House sitting

As well as renting about half of the King Solomon Hotel, Aspen Medical also lease several houses for managers and very long term employees. Recently the Deputy in-country manager approached me about house sitting his house while he and his wife went on leave for three weeks. What sounded like a nice offer just got better and better as the details were revealed.
The house is up in the hills on leafy Taveo ridge overlooking Iron Bottom sound. The house is simple but light and airy with three bedrooms. Although architecturally nothing to write home about it comes with wireless internet, computer games (bit hooked on the Wii) and 600 DVDs! It is set right on the edge of the ridge, the gardened property falling away down to the pool and leafhaus. There are two giant mango trees, heavy with fruit and numerous other exotic plants, all tended three times a week by a gardener. The house staff thing is taking a bit of getting use to. In addition to the gardener, Rose, we have a cleaner, Doris, who also comes three days a week who does the laundry and house cleaning. Hardest of all to get used to are the security guards. There are two at night and one during the day who regularly patrol the 8ft high fence that surrounds us. They are very nice guys who keep to themselves in their little office when not doing regular patrols. It feels very odd being guarded in what seems like a quiet cul-de-sac in a leafy suburb but there is a history of affluent properties being targeted during times of unrest so their presence isn’t an option.
The best bit is the other member of the family we are sitting, nine month old Wally the dog. He is a local dog they found in a rubbish pile as a tiny pup. Being local he strongly resembles a dingo. This, Rachael informs me, is because they are closely related, having come with the first settlers from SE Asia some 40,000 years ago, long before they made it to Australia. Unlike his somewhat emaciated and mangy cousins Wally is a clean, well fed specimen. Like all pups he is going through a chewing phase, principally our feet and knees but also furniture, pool equipment, gardening equipment, electrical appliances and pretty much anything that falls from the trees.
As I mentioned we are here for three weeks, and though somewhat out of the loop not seeing everyone all the time at the King Sol we are really enjoying the space, the full size kitchen and the peace. If I try to tell you we did it tough at all when we return you may slap me.

Finally earning my keep

There’s always something to do at work. Apart from the vital work of writing this blog and answering emails, paramedics have daily equipment checks and regularly train the ambulance drivers and army personnel in first aid. When available we also help out on the ward and assist the GP’s at Saturday morning clinics. In the event of an off-base mass casualty incident we run the triage and transport operation and then assist doctors in resuscitation at the hospital. Apart from all of this there is also the actual job we are primarily here to do – that of aero medical evacuations (AME’s). These, by their very nature are unpredictable. In the first fortnight I was here there wasn’t one, yet the week before I arrived the paramedic I took over from had done five. There are on average a couple a week.
Last week I finally got to earn my money doing what I’m here for, almost. A PNG soldier was sick with a fever near Avu Avu on the southern coast of Guadalcanal. Initial reports suggested he couldn’t walk, although as is common with these things the reports were sketchy and third hand. Whenever someone has a fever Malaria and Dengue have to be considered and so an AME was ordered. My drivers and I loaded the Ambulance with the necessary equipment (probably about 80kg worth of stuff) and headed out of the base in the required 5 minutes to the airport which is just down the road.
It had been raining on and off all day. This was good because it was a little cooler than normal and wearing a nomex flight suit in this weather is akin to sitting in an oven, and that’s before you get in a hot helicopter. It didn’t bode well for the flight though. The pilot, an irritable old ex-army pilot met us with,
“#!@* me! what %&@* head thought this *%#$ was ^%!!ing funny?” The crewman translated this as,
“The Weathercoast of Guadalcanal got its name for a good reason and the weather will only deteriorate as we approach it. Crashing this helicopter isn’t worth retrieving one soldier this afternoon so we may well only get halfway there. What ‘s more these people are still quite traumatised having been at the centre of some of the most horrific atrocities during the “tensions” and are consequently not always the friendliest, so we would rather not put down uninvited.”
Having loaded the helicopter (a Bell 412) and completed pre-flight checks (which to the pilot’s credit were performed calmly and very thoroughly), we took off. It struck me at the time that if the rain is coming in the pilot’s open window despite something like 2 tonnes of downdraft going past its getting quite heavy. Cloud cover on the 2000 meter high mountain range running down the spine of Guadalcanal meant traversing the island was out from the start so we began a clockwise coastal route at about 1000ft above the beach.
The sky got darker and darker and the rain heavier still. Sunset is around 6.30 throughout the year here but at 3pm none of us needed our sunnies on. Though visibility was down to about 1500m the views of little villages on the coast were fantastic. Not a kilometre went by without a river disgorging its contents into the sea. The jungle was thick right to the water’s edge in most places with the only little clearings generally occupied by a leafhaus or two (Pidgin not German).
As we approached the eastern tip of Guadalcanal a black wall of weather could be seen approaching through the mist. The pilot, whose nickname on the back of his helmet was Bad Santa, calmly announced,
“"#!$ this &%$!"
and with that banked the helicopter in a steep turn through 180 degrees. The weather slowly seemed to be catching us despite our 110 knot airspeed and the sky got darker and darker. As the visibility reduced so did our altitude until we were just clearing the tallest palm trees on the beach. The crewman had been calling out potential landing sites every couple of minutes on the way out which was about as often as we saw them. He was now identifying them about every 30 seconds, most of which looked to me more like the size of a front lawn or a not-so-steep bit of beach.
Our flight back seemed, and probably was, a lot faster than on the way out. We were all fairly wet by the time we landed – equal parts sweat and rain. No sooner had the rotors stopped than the full force of the weather front hit and I have to say I now have complete faith in Bad Santa’s judgement.
It turned out the PNG soldier had a case of what is known here as man-flu, a debilitating illness that is otherwise known as the snuffles. Further assessment resulted in no AME and the administration of a couple of panadol.

A family do

You will find Sikaiana and its population of 400 just above the A in Solomon Islands

Sometimes you just find yourself in the right place at the right time. An Australian Paramedic, Gordon, who worked in the Solomons a while ago had returned to visit his local girlfriend, Barbara. This is a regular thing for him as their relationship is getting quite serious. As a result, Barbara’s family asked him out to their village for a bit of a celebration of his return. Gordon was told he could bring a few friends and we got an invitation. There are many villages that will welcome tourists to see local life for a kastom fee, but this was a fabulous opportunity to see genuine, non-commercial village having a authentic celebration.
Not only was this the real thing, but it turns out Barbara’s family (for that read Barbara’s village) are not Gwale – people from Guadalcanal. The family migrated from the tiny Solomons island of Sikaiana about a generation ago. Unlike the rest of the country Sikaianans are Polynesian so we were treated to feasting and dancing differs from what you would see in most villages on this island.
The Solomons archipelago of 900+ islands is so widespread and until recently diverse that cultures vary enormously. Western province people are very dark skinned and share much with their PNG neighbours, all of whom are Melanesian. The further East you go the lighter the skin becomes and the more Polynesian the influence. It was a bit of a surprise to see dancing that I associated with Hawaiian people.
We drove about half an hour East of the capital through Copra plantations to Red Beach, the site of one of the major American landings in WW2. Although most of us had come ready for swimming in the warm coastal water we changed our minds when stories emerged of large salt water crocodiles found in the shallows. The village was an idyllic little place set just back from the beach. Unfortunately the ethnic tensions (a polite way of describing the inter-island massacres of the 90’s) are never far away. Barbara explained to us that during the tensions half the village had fled in fear of their lives. Their houses were, and still are, occupied by Gwales. Although everyone seemed to be getting on, the Sikaianans that returned after the tensions died down are still waiting for compensation for their houses and land some 5 years later. To further complicate the situation, as the Solomons does so well, the half of the village that stayed has limited sympathy for the other “cowardly” section of the community.
All this aside, we were shown around the village and made to feel very welcome. The church was proudly shown off and the pikininis gave us a terrifying display of tree climbing. We were then treated to a stunning banquet of locally caught fish and chicken, cassava, rice and tropical fruits of every description. These people really know how to eat well. Although Barbara’s family did not start until it was clear we were full, there was food left over even after the entire village had eaten. This was then washed down with generous, but unrefrigerated Solbrew.
After all of this the dancing began.

A typical village house

This was not a demonstration but the normal culmination of an afternoon of celebration. Barbara and Gordon were clearly the focus of the festivities. The music was provided by the assembled voices in fantastic harmonies, clapping and what I termed a Solomons drum machine – a small wooden box that was thumped with a stick until it collapsed during the last number. I hope the pictures I’ve included give some sort idea about the raucous enjoyment that characterised the dances. The ladies dressed up in their lavalavas first and then the men, led by Barbara’s father, Desmond.

Gordon was encouraged to dance with them which was a really nice inclusive gesture. He gave it a red hot go, but not having performed these dances since a small child like the others he retired gracefully and exhausted after a while. Finally Barbara and her cousin Juju performed some dances much to the ladies pleasure. Their pride was palpable. Throughout this the pikininis almost exploded with excitement, at one stage forming their own percussion ensemble with empty Solbrew cans and sticks.

Preparation for the festivities - flower garlands being made
Village pikininis keen to be recorded (Gwale)

Sikaianan pikininiGordon and Barbara
Village dog - obvious dingo heritage
Pikininis showing obvious Polynesian heritage

Desmond with his sons

Walkabout

I had intended to write a piece about our walks then show you some pictures, but I am stuffed if I can make this thing do what I want. So here are some picture and below is the story that goes with them. Pikininis waiting to greet us

Little pikinini making a second hand bath towel look good. Quite common clothing for little ones.

My favourite 2 storey leaf haus

Someone's front garden

Rachael on our walk

Evidence of the "tensions"

Some of the endless Frangipani trees and the afternoon clouds behind

Mendana Avenue, Honiara CBD

When I was last here Prime Minister Sogavare was facing a vote of no confidence, which he lost. As a result security was heightened. It had only been a bit over a year since a change of government had caught the RAMSI security forces off guard. Three days of rioting resulted in 80 buildings being burnt down in Honiara. I can see how this happened because from day to day the capital is a peaceful, bustling little town. Strangers will wish you good morning as you pass them on the street and though it might seem a bit chaotic, all seems orderly. There was, however, an underlying tension fuelled by the perception (mostly accurate) of government corruption. The vote in 2006 was felt by many to be rigged and within minutes of the announcement of the new Prime Minister, Snyder Rini, rocks were being thrown at parliament and the RAMSI police guarding it. Several police were injured and the rioting swept through town.
So when I arrived last December RAMSI was definitely not going to be caught out again. Security was tight. Soldiers patrolled the streets and helicopters did regular low level passes. As it turned out there was little in the way of disturbance (I think about ten people were murdered in the following nights, but drug and alcohol fuelled violence in the middle of the night results in a few murders most weeks). What all this meant for me was our movements on my last visit were quite restricted. We were not allowed out of town unless for a special reason and only then in reasonable sized groups. Walking in town alone was discouraged and walking after dark was definitely not on.
This time the country seems to be a lot less volatile. The Prime Minister that replaced Sogavare after his vote of no confidence, Dr. Sikua, has wide spread support and there is a new found sense of enthusiasm for what the future holds. As a result the travel restrictions have largely gone. We are still required to be within half an hour of the RAMSI base for mass casualty incidents and walking through town in the wee small hours would still be a bit silly, but going for a walk is now fine.
Rachael and I have been taking advantage of this, walking a 5km circuit from the King Solomon hotel up into the hills behind town and back. Down-town Honiara is really just a main street with a parallel secondary street, but the traffic can be a bit noisy and the constantly burning rubbish heaps mean the air is always a bit smoky.

A view across the hilltops

A short but steep walk into the hills reveals the residential areas of Honiara which are a series of villages perched on ridges and nestled into valleys. The air is clean and the loudest sounds are chickens and pikininis playing. People are even friendlier up here. At times it’s a little like being a rock star. You sweat like you’ve just done a three hour set at Wembley Stadium and pikininis run up to “high five” you or just hold your hand. Despite the meagre conditions in which people live, the houses are very well kept and everyone is really happy. It is hard to believe that only five or six years ago, during the “tensions” gun shots rang out nightly in this idyll.

Sobering sites

Last weekend the long serving storeman here was good enough to take a group of us to see some sights around Honiara. Not only do you need someone who knows their way around because the hills behind the town are like a very steep maze, some locals are still occasionally in the habit of forming road blocks for a little extra cash. Les the storeman assured us it wasn’t really a problem unless you stopped. The trick is to be in a 4WD and just drive over/through the road block. Luckily this wasn’t necessary.
The view over Honiara's suburbs looking NE from the American War Memorial


Our first stop was the American war memorial on top of a hill overlooking town. The hills are amazingly steep so the view was really spectacular. The memorial is a series of huge granite slabs etched onto which is a very detailed account of the battle for Guadalcanal. The bravery involved and the number of lives and ships lost on both sides is hard to comprehend. The result, in 1943 after a succession of battles, was America’s first successful naval campaign of the war.


From there we drove to Bloody Ridge for a much grittier example of the war. As well as the naval battles the Americans and Japanese fought many pitched land battles. The Japanese had first occupied the Islands as a point from which they could attack shipping lanes and eventually the Australian mainland.

Gifu hill looking South down its precipitous slopes

As a result they were very well fortified and ready for the American attack. The part of Bloody Ridge we visited was called Gifu Hill by the Japanese, now the site of a beautiful little village. This was the site of one of the most intense battles. Some of the Japanese had retreated to the top of this hill after the American invasion as it gave them a perfect view of the airfield below which was at the heart of the conflict. The battle for this hill was the subject of the film Thin Red Line which I encourage you to see. That anyone could climb this hill is almost inconceivable, let alone assault it under heavy fire. In the end there were 8000 Japanese lying dead in an area not much bigger than a tennis court.
At the village just down the ridge we inspected all sorts of war relics that emerge from the ground from time to time. The village museum has an amazing array of items from weapons to everyday objects which make the whole experience very real. One expects to see ammunition and weapons, but the teeth and glasses and pannikins remind you these were all otherwise normal people. There is so much war litter only the week before some men walked a different route to a neighbouring village and found a crashed Japanese fighter. The pilot was still buckled into his seat.

Here we go again!

Having had such a good time in the Solomon Islands last year I've returned, this time for a three month contract. The biggest difference from last year is that Rachael (my wife) has come with me and will be staying for the duration. That, along with the fact that we have a flat with a kitchen means it will be a lot more like living here rather than a prolonged holiday.

The weather seems to be a little more tolerable than last time. Interestingly its no cooler (32-33 degrees c. every day and 27-29 at night) but there are trade winds at this time of year in the afternoon and the humidity sometimes drops a bit below 80%! This is great for acclimatisation because its only going to get steamier towards December as the wetter season starts. As I may have mentioned the Solomons doesn't really have a wet and dry season, just wet and wetter. Rachael arrived yesterday and wondered if this was really true. The streets were a bit dusty and everywhere, though lush, was certainly dry. Well this afternoon it started raining and as I write this (mid evening) its still pouring down with no sign of stopping.

The political climate seems much calmer now than when I was last here and the government was being voted out. This means we are allowed a little more freedom to go for walks to nearby villages. Last December a lot of people had gone home for christmas to their home islands so many shops and eateries were closed. All of this means that Honiara is a livelier place.

Nothing much has changed at work. One difference is the really big helicopter, the SuperPuma has gone. This means a few of the islands such as Ontong Java Atol are now out of range. As a result if someone needs medical evacuation from there, as they did the other week, its not a three hour round trip in the chopper but a thirty hour trip in a patrol boat. I wouldn't mind cruising over the sea trenches seeing manta rays, dolphins and giant jellyfish. Work still trickles in. An AFP member got machetted (sic) in the leg the other week and obstetric emergencies still crop up fairly regularly.

Well thats about it for now. We're here we're safe and we're looking forward to the upcoming 12 weeks. I'll charge the camera battery and show you where we are staying in the next exciting episode.