Celebrating 50 Years of Papua New Guinea’s Independence

Featured

This week is the fiftieth anniversary of Independence in Papua New Guinea. Our family’s ten years in Port Moresby were extremely rewarding. We lived on the university campus from 1976 till 1986. The years after Independence were times of intense development. At the University, students told you they were proud of where they came from their [Ples] and their language [Tok Ples]. They were good enough to invite us to visit their region, no matter how far away they lived. 

We met interesting people in town, and my best friend nicknamed me Mauswarra [the mouth that runs fast in Tok Pisin], in the same way as my family in France used to say I was Un moulin à paroles [a continuous word-windmill in French]. If I still lived in Port Moresby, I would now be called Bubu Mama [Grandma in Hiri Motu].

I am grateful for the warm welcome we received and how much we learned about a varied country with amazing landscapes of soaring mountains and seaside beaches. We had a Christmas lunch at a windy Ella Beach: lettuce leaves flew off, but we were able to eat the slices of cold turkey that remained on our plates. Two events at Idler’s Bay: a difficult one when our daughter was stung by a jelly fish; and a cheerful one when we attended David and Faith’s wedding. We also had a wonderful time at Gabba Gabba where the villagers gave us cool and large watermelons to eat, and their children played cricket with ours. We went to Yule Island on an outrigger canoe with eskis full of supermarket fruit and came back with fresh coconuts.

We were lucky to fly inland to Tapini and back safely in spite of the difficult airstrip; went to Bulolo and Wau to look at the remnants of gold mining and to the best market in the world at Goroka where I bought two of my favourite bilums [traditional string bags]. We also met with friendly people in stunning Madang and in the Island of Bougainville who always expressed the love of self-sufficiency. I cannot do justice to this country, and I regret not visiting other exciting places, like Milne Bay, the Sepik, the Western Highlands, East and West New Britain and Manus.

Papua New Guinea has in excess of 800 languages, Austronesian and Non-Austronesian which are able to do things that western linguists never thought possible. Through verb-stringing and other infixes languages focus on the manner of an action rather than on its timing, which is marked by adverbs. Besides liklik Tok Pisin and Hiri Motu bada (not really ‘much’!) I would have loved to learn languages from the Goilala people.

When we left UPNG students and staff organised a mumu, pig cooked in the ground with taro and vegetable wrapped in banana leaves as a farewell party.

On behalf of my family, it is my pleasure to wish all my friends and their wantoks [relatives], whom I cannot name here because I’d be sure to forget someone special, and in honour of those that have passed away, my absolute best for the 50th Independence Day Celebration on 16th September 2025.

Three French chansons/ 1970s Nostalgia

Featured

( Thanks to Salvatore Adamo, Joe Dassin, Yves Duteil – Lyrics below)

A tune and a few words.
I hum a song or two.
I remember Tombe la neige
At the trail end of the nineteen sixties.
Adamo sings of a lover’s distress
Emotions buried by steady snowfalls.

Next I follow dreams and wishes of those
who mastered obstacles
They reveal their dynamic life
and a rhythm to sink all pessimism.
My voice attracted by Dassin’s
Taps to the refrain : Aux Champs Elysées.


I leap into action
with the energy and passion
of the adults and the parents
who relish their new lives
and will revel in inclusivity.
Prendre un enfant par la main
Walking with a child near you,
and holding their hands as a way
of 'giving them the confidence to walk'
Going with Duteil to find snow
And maybe the gift of optimism.


Salvatore Adamo – Tombe la neige
Tombe la neige
Tombe la neige
Tu ne viendras pas ce soir
Tombe la neige
Et mon cœur s’habille de noir
Ce soyeux cortège
Tout en larmes blanches
L’oiseau sur la branche
Pleure le sortilège
Tu ne viendras pas ce soir
Me crie mon désespoir
Mais tombe la neige

Tombe la neige
Tu ne viendras pas ce soir
Tombe la neige
Tout est blanc de désespoir
Triste certitude
Le froid et l’absence
Cet odieux silence
Blanche solitude
Tu ne viendras pas ce soir
Me crie mon désespoir
Mais tombe la neige
Impassible manège


Joe Dassin – Aux Champs Elysées
Je m’baladais sur l’avenue
Le cœur ouvert à l’inconnu
J’avais envie de dire bonjour
À n’importe qui
N’importe qui et ce fut toi
Je t’ai dit n’importe quoi
Il suffisait de te parler
Pour t’apprivoiser

Aux Champs-Élysées
Aux Champs-Élysées
Au soleil, sous la pluie
À midi ou à minuit
Il y a tout c’que vous voulez
Aux Champs-Élysées

Tu m’as dit “J’ai rendez-vous
Dans un sous-sol, avec des fous”
Qui vivent la guitare à la main
Du soir au matin”
Alors, je t’ai accompagnée
On a chanté, on a dansé
Et l’on n’a même pas pensé
À s’embrasser



Yves Duteil – Prendre un enfant par la main
Prendre un enfant par la main
Pour l’emmener vers demain
Pour lui donner la confiance en son pas
Prendre un enfant pour un roi

Prendre un enfant dans ses bras
Et pour la première fois
Sécher ses larmes en étouffant de joie
Prendre un enfant dans ses bras

Prendre un enfant par le cœur
Pour soulager ses malheurs
Tout doucement, sans parler, sans pudeur
Prendre un enfant sur son cœur

Prendre un enfant dans ses bras
Mais pour la première fois
Verser des larmes en étouffant sa joie
Prendre un enfant contre soi

Prendre un enfant par la main
Et lui chanter des refrains
Pour qu’il s’endorme à la tombée du jour
Prendre un enfant par l’amour

Prendre un enfant comme il vient
Et consoler ses chagrins
Vivre sa vie des années, puis soudain
Prendre un enfant par la main

En regardant tout au bout du chemin
Prendre un enfant pour le sien


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Meditation

Featured

Is doing nothing better than mindfully focusing on one thing only? 
But how do you ever find the elusive quality of nothingness ? 
Silence doesn’t suffice because millions of thoughts 
pile up on one another. Taking regular breaths 
requires you  to move  and direct them 
in and then out with deliberate action
Closing one’s eyes is simple but this
brings memories to front of mind. 
Following musical rhythms 
makes you stir. So this is 
my answer: to achieve 
nothing I’ll simply
spell out the word 
N O T H I N G
or the word 
R I E N. 

Est-il plus facile de ne faire rien sans ne penser consciencieusement
qu’à une seule chose ?  Mais comment trouver la qualité élusive 
d’arriver à ne rien faire ? Le silence ne suffit pas car il apporte 
des millions d’idées qui se superposent les unes aux autres. 
Si vous respirez de façon régulière vous devez diriger 
votre souffle à monter et à descendre, donc c’est 
un geste délibéré. Fermer les yeux est simple, 
mais cela  apporte des souvenirs à l'esprit. 
Suivre des rythmes musicaux vous force 
à vous remuer. Donc ma réponse, pour  
en venir à Rien, c’est simplement 
d’épeler le mot R I E N, ou 
le mot N O T H I N G.