I wanted to go snorkeling today, and yesterday I had
indicated this wish to the young man who does the maintenance here, Lutta. “No
problem”, he said, “we have a dinghy”. I was really thinking that Kimbe Tours
probably had some arrangements with a diving outfit, because getting on a
dinghy with the handyman didn’t seem all that safe. “I just need to talk with
my boss.” “And where is your boss?” “Oh, he is asleep. He went drinking last
night and didn’t get back until late.” Great, now I have to deal with a guy who
has a hangover and will probably not be up until noon.
So I waited and waited, reading and snoozing in the
beautiful back yard. I also had the chance to chat with the gardener Terrance,
the maids Clara and Christina, Julie who is the desk manager, and Conrad who
came in a boat last night and was putting his family and their innumerable bundles
in the helicopter for a ride to their remote mountain home. Lovely people all,
delighted to meet a Mexican and delighted to meet a geologist.
Eventually, around 11 am, Lutta told me he was going to the
house to talk with his boss. I did mention to the desk manager that there
didn’t seem to be any set arrangements for Kimbe Tours to offer any tours, and
with clear disapproval in her voice she told me the story of the place: Kimbe
Tours Guesthouse was established by a couple, who put real money and effort to
create a first rate guesthouse; but then they divorced and she got the
guesthouse. She didn’t really want to manage the guesthouse, so she put her
good-for-nothing son in charge of it, and hired Julie to do the desk
management. Since then the guesthouse has maintained itself on inertia and a
well-trained staff, and no new ventures (like adventure tours) have been
implemented. Lutta came back from his interview with his boss with a long face.
Yes, of course they could take me snorkeling to a private beach, and drive me
up to the volcano, but not today. These things need to be planned. So we will
do it next week, when I come back from Rabaul. Rats!
Now what? Well, I had had a very nice time talking with the
people around me, so I said I was going to go to the fish market and buy what I
needed to cook lunch for us all. I gave Julie money to go to buy six loaves of
sego bread. Sego is harvested from palm trees, and I understand it is the
equivalent to the “fruit” that in other palms bears the dates. It is a staple
of PNG folks, and it is cooked in all sorts of forms. In this particular case,
it is covered by a thin jacket of bread dough, and baked in the form of a small
baguette. Pretty tasty when fresh, and pretty disgusting when eaten the
following morning for breakfast.
As far as the main lunch went, Lutta and I took a PMV to the
open market place, bought a couple of pikes (and a snapper for my dinner later
on the day), rice, oil, onions, garlic, green peppers, a papaya, and a couple
of liters of coke. While we were there we stopped at the store where Lutta’s
wife works and he introduced me to her. Back at the guesthouse I took over the
kitchen, with the able assistance of Clara and Christina, and in half hour we
had a delicious meal of rice and fish ready for everyone. This is PNG, however,
so in the last minute people decided they had something urgent to do and we
ended having lunch in three shifts. It didn’t matter, really because I had
nothing better to do.
In the afternoon the easy conversation continued, with new
people drifting in and out. I showed them pictures of the family, told and
retold the story of the adoption of Ronnie, who everyone pronounced a very
handsome boy. We talked about volcanoes and plate tectonics, about tourism in
PNG, about where I should stay in Rabaul, and I even got an offer to drive me
to the Hoskins airport tomorrow morning!
So no, I am not disappointed. I may not have had a
sightseeing day, but I had a wonderful cultural day 😊
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