- Date: May 7, 1987
- Location: Sawasawaga, Sariba Island PNG
- Subject: Visiting the Village of Sawasawaga
Dear WaterFairy:
Today, we got up bright and early, and did a quick lash down of loose items, and motored to Sawasawaga Village. But we were not the only ones up and at ‘em. We saw Nauset, preparing to leave. They were going to be sailing the opposite direction. I spent a little bit of time waving goodbye to ZuZu and Chloe, who looked so cute in their life jackets, sitting in the cockpit. Capt said, “Those young girls are seasoned sailors for sure. They have done more blue water sailing than I have, and they are not even teenagers!” Blue water sailing means sailing in the deep ocean, away from land.
Anyway, it took us about 3 hours to get to the anchorage off of Sawasawaga. We followed the southwest coast of the island Sariba. There was not much wind and Capt just wanted to get there and not worry about sailing around coral reefs, so he turned on the motor. The water was clear, blue and the sky was full of clouds, which helped keep the sun off of us. It was still hot. The best part of the sail happened at the end of the trip. We had to go through the Sawasawaga pass, which is a very narrow channel in between Sariba Island and Sideia Island. It was so narrow that all the sea water coming from the west had to squeeze into that little channel, so this means that all the water going through the channel get squeezed together and makes very huge waves. It felt like I was riding some type of carnival ride-up, up, up the wave Sacha-B went. At the end of the short passage the waves spilled into the bay and Sacha-B shot out of the channel like a bullet. It was really fun, but a bit scary as the rocks of both islands were pretty close to Sacha-B.
We are anchored off this cute little village Sawasawaga, on the island of Sariba. Like the few other places we have seen so far, the village huts are along the shore just up a bit from the beach, tucked in along the lush green jungle plants. Most of the houses are woven palm wall huts, built on stilts. Under the houses are open areas where the pigs sleep at night. Mona Lisa told me that most folks that live in the huts usually only go inside to sleep because they mostly live outdoors. Even if it rains, they just hang out under the hut to keep dry. Most huts have a cool outdoor kitchen, alongside their huts. The outdoor kitchen includes bamboo shelves/counters, a big washing basin that is either metal, plastic or sometimes an upside down sea turtle shell, a fire pit on the ground that has a cast iron pot for cooking (maybe rice or fish stew). Looks a bit like our outdoor kitchen when we were in the boat yard, only we could not have a fire pit. The fires always seem to be smoldering morning, noon and night. I LOVE the smell of the smoke. Capt says they are probably burning small dry sticks, coconut husks and dried palm fronds (leaves). We are going ashore later to meet some of the locals, but first we have to get permission from the chief of the village. Capt said it would be rude to just show up to their homes and walk around.
When we were eating our breakfast, some of the village kids paddled out to Sacha-B in their outrigger canoes. There were six or seven outriggers, and each canoe had at least two kids in them. It seemed that there was always an older kid and a little kid paired up together. Capt asked the kids if they would go ask their Chief if we could come for a visit. The boys paddle back to shore SOOO fast, ran their outriggers aground, hopped out and ran yelling and hollering up to the village to find the Chief. It only took them about 5 minutes before they headed back to their canoes and back to Sacha-B, with the good news that we were welcome.
Mom gathered up some magazines and a few fish hooks to bring as gifts for the Chief and his family. Once again, Mom said, you “ALWAYS” need to bring a little gift when you go visiting somebody, whether it is on land, on another boat or to an entire village. It doesn’t need to be a big gift, but something useful or something to eat. It is only polite and proper. You want to get invited back, don’t you???”
We got into the dinghy and rowed over to the beach, surrounded by the kids saying, “Hello, Hello Missy!” and giggling, smiling and singing. These kids always seem to be so happy. The boys are about my age. They were asking me, “You speak English, Missy?” “Where are you from, Missy?” “I will take your family to meet the bossman (Chief)!”
We dragged the dinghy on the beach where the kids told us and walked to the village clearing with the kids. One of the reasons why Capt wanted to take a look at the village was to see the remains of the American Catalina Base that was built during WWII. There is a large concrete floor that used to be the mess hall, right in the middle of the village center. Other than the concrete floor, there did not seem to be much evidence of the Americans being there, but Capt reminded me that it was 40 years ago.
Just like back home, the boys are much more noisy and louder and pushier than the girls! We met the Chief and his wife. They were waiting for us at the edge of the village. The Chief spoke Pidgeon English, which Capt understands a little, so they were able to communicate. Mom gave the Chief’s wife the ladies magazines, which she seemed happy to get and was looking at all the photos of the babies. The locals call babies “picaninny”. Mom said that picaninny means small baby, but usually a black baby and it was a bad word for us to say back home, but ok for the locals to say it, because it was part of their language. That’s confusing to me but maybe someday I will understand. The locals also call white people “dimdims.” So when the local girls see the ad’s in the magazines that have photos of white babies, they giggle and laugh and point, saying “dimdim picaninny.” One of the girls asked Mom where her piccaninnies were and Mom just smiled and patted my head. The girls seemed disappointed we didn’t have any little babies to share with them.
Anyway, back to the village. Most of the houses were built around the main clearing, the concrete floor. We got to see some of the houses close up. The huts were about 12 feet by 12 feet and built off the ground. There was one main doorway which had a ladder or ramp from the ground to the doorway. Some of the walls of the huts could be lifted up, so there were windows in the walls. Not windows with glass or screens, but big openings that allowed the air flow in the house. All around the huts were beautiful flowers and plants and big white shells that lined the pathways from one house to another. The yards were very neat, clean and tidy. Mom said that it was probably one of the kid’s chores to keep the yard clean and plants alive and any of the dead leaves that dropped were snapped up and put on the fire. Of course, there were chickens running around, clucking and pecking the ground, looking for bugs to eat. There was one BIG rooster, who crowed a lot. He is probably the one we heard early. I like the sounds of the rooster, even if he wakes me up. There are also tons of other bird sounds we can hear. I don’t know much about birds or their noses, but they are very pretty and make nice background noises.
The Chief brought us to another clearing, just outside the main village. We were accompanied by the gang of kids, some of them were holding hands with Capt and Mom, and one girl seemed happy to get to hold my hand. Some of the younger kids looked REALLY terrified to see us “dimdims”. Mom said for some of the kids, this was their first time to see white people. We must looks so different to them, especially if they have never seen white people before. The locals have dark brownish skin, dark brown eyes and tight, black curly hair called an “afro.” We, on the other hand, have white skin with freckles and hair on our arms and legs. The locals do not seem to have hair on their arms or legs like we do, so some of the little kids holding our hands would pet our arms to feel the arm hair. I didn’t mind the attention because the kids were just curious and nice and polite. Mom and I both have green eyes and Capt has blue eyes, so you can be sure the locals were very interested in looking at our eyes. But the thing that the kids seemed really interested in was our hair. Mom has long, reddish brown hair which is really curly, I have long, curly dark brown hair, and Capt has short blonde hair. It seemed to me that the girls were most interested in running their fingers through our hair, so Mom and I took our hair out of our ponytails and let the kids comb our hair with their fingers. I am not sure if the purpose was to feel our hair, or collect the few strands of our hair that ended up in their fingers. A few of the girls seemed really pleased when they were able to hold up a few, long strands of our hair.
Anyway, in the open space was the school. There was a thatched roof over a concrete foundation, under the roof was 4 rows of benches and a black board nailed onto 2 poles that supported the roof. The kids were not in school, because it was Saturday. There was also a HUGE mango tree in the schoolyard, and the Chief said most of the kids picked the mangos off the tree for lunch! They didn’t need to worry about packing a lunch like I used to! Well, really Mom used to. The Chief told some of the kids to gather up the mangos and give them to us to bring back to the boat. YUM! I like mangoes, especially if I cut them into cubes, squeeze lime juice on them and freeze them, which I did when I got back to Sacha-B. It is like ice cream.
The school had a metal thing that looked like a bomb, hanging from a tree. The chief told us that it is an old bomb case (from WWII) and used as a bell to call the kids to school, because they didn’t have clocks. The chief also said the students did not have any books, pencils or paper, so the students just listened to the teacher as she taught class and wrote on the blackboard!
On the way back to the dinghy, we got to meet a couple of the village pigs. They were huge, and pinkish-black, and very noisy, grunting around the dirt for a snack. The kids told us that they fed the animals yams, corn and coconuts along with all of their food scraps, so they don’t have any problems getting rid of their garbage. Later, when we back on the boat, enjoying a cup of tea, Capt said if he owned those pigs he would name them “Scrumptious” and “Delicious”, because when he would be eating them, he could say, “Oh my….. this is Scrumptious, or maybe it is Delicious!” Mom said, “That’s in poor taste, Captain!” We all cracked up over that joke.
Now, it is almost “happy hour” so I am going to toast some bread and spread some avocado whipped with yogurt and topped with sliced pickled onion. YUM. After dinner is over, and the dishes are cleaned, I will play backgammon with Mom. It is a very still and quiet tonight. When the sun goes down we will most likely hear the village children singing while they fish in the dark.
All in all, it was an BIG adventure day.
