The art of walking upright Is the art of using both feet... One is for holding on The other is for letting go...

Thursday, November 09, 2006

You Could Cut the Tension With a Bushknife...

Last week saw soccer move from ol pikininis to the big boys, aka the NISCOL Cup final (with one white missus photographer in tow!). The day of the final coincided with the arrival of my first visitor - my cousin, Brandon, from Green Bay, Wisconsin, USA. After picking him up from the airport and letting him spel smol, we trifala (Jess tagging along) headed off to Shapi Stadium to watch the drama unfold...

Shapi Stadium is not exactly Eden Park, but hey, at least there are seats, shade and a raging reggae soundtrack. Highlights of the day included:
  • Vanuatu's version of a streaker - a ridiculously drunken man without a shirt, who stumbled on to the pitch during the first half. He was very ladylike and didn't disrupt play too much before being quietly led from the field by one of the organisers. The streaker then raised his beer to the crowd, climbed in his car and drove away. The two policeman sitting not 10 metres away didn't lift a finger to assist, just called for play to resume.
  • A fight erupting on the field between St Anne and Sariaga, quickly mirrored by a fight between the fans in the northern grandstand and their southern rivals. The bushknife-taut tension was only broken by an impassioned plea from an official over the loudspeaker that funding for future events would be pulled if people didn't calm down.
  • Brandon's first ride in the back of a truck, through the pot-holed back streets of Luganville.
  • Brandon's first taste of kava (as esteemed guest at the after-party for the officials).

Other firsts for Brandon have included:

  • kakae lap-lap (not bad)
  • kakae Vegemite (not good)
  • handwashing his own clothes (lil' bit crispy)
  • purchasing Bob Marley jandals and a fetching trucker cap
  • cooking dinner (quite good!)
  • rum and coconut... drunk from a coconut (smooth tumas!)
  • being forced to endure the heat / island life-induced lunacy of three missus who've lacked sane company for a little too long.
  • storianing with ol pikininis at Kamewa School while his cousin attempted to teach them touch rugby. The game eventually disintegrated into scrag football and Brandon shared his amusement with the children over Bislama words like "Basket blong titis" (use your imagination)

Today he's headed off with the Baby Doctors to Tasariki on the West Coast for an overnight excursion to a village. He should be in safe hands, as they've had some medical training.

As for me, I've had another medical mishap. After buying a family-sized basket of HOT chillies, I had the wonderful idea of making a tomato chilli sauce. Having not previously cut and handled such potent chillies before, I wasn't aware of the devastatingly painful effect contact with these can have. The first warning sign was when I wiped my eye and felt a burning sensation. This was swiftly dealt with milk, but then my hands started to tingle. It got to a point where it felt like I was holding fireballs in my hands. Yet, there was no rash, no external heat, no nothing! Ice cubes, frozen bananas and further milk-dowsing could only provide momentary relief. At about 2am, I finally succumbed to the pain (after a Panadol / Nurofen cocktail), passed out and woke in the morning to find the pain was gone. Bizarre! Early the next morning, I gave the remaining chillies away to neighbours blong mi.

Otherwise, the general plan is still to head to Pentecost next week. The more specific plan has been thwarted by the fact that MV Brisk (the cargo ship we were booked on) has had engine troubles and is not sailing at present. So, it's now a case of trying to find another ship and get a message to a village on another island with no phone contact. Another big learning curve...

This weekend sees the first international flight into Luganville's newly registered international airport, and the finals of a local handball tournament. More exciting tales to follow...