Fortitude

How Papuans Can Endure Pain

WRITING from San Francisco, Mr. J.

Nixon "Westwood is reminiscent: — I notice a Samarai paragraph in the February “P.1.M.”, entitled “Papuan’s Fortitude”; and this recalls the fortitude of a Mawatta woman (or girl—she was about 18), when I was Collector of Customs in Daru, Western Papua.

One day I found on my back veran dah a female who looked as though she had been mauled by a tiger. From head to foot, she was covered with dried blood; her head had a gash about eight inches long; both breasts had been lacerated; her abdomen torn open; her back had two gashes, from shoulder blades to waist.

Fortunately, Dr. Leigh Boag had just arrived, and brought serum for such injuries, and he immediately treated this poor girl. He had to put in 80 stitches, and, although the attack had taken place three days previously, the girl did not show the slightest nervous ness or fear.

She had been bathing in the river and stood up, preparatory to leaving the water. Suddenly, something grabbed her by the neck. She managed to tear herself away, receiving the gashes on her back. Turning, screaming with fear and pain, she discovered that her attacker was a full-grown alligator.

Hearing her screams, her father and other relations rushed into the river, and managed to beat the monster off— but not before the girl had suffered terrible injuries.

The village medicine-man did his best; but, after three days, the father brought the girl into Daru.

Day after day the girl, her father and relations watched Dr. Boag manipulate the various instruments, until finally the stitches were taken out and the girl was ready to return to Mawatta.

The sequel was interesting. Appar ently, when any sickness was overcome, or sores healed, the native who helped to do this was expected to pay the father of the patient something in kind, such as yams, or manioc. As soon as the girl was ready to return, the father came to Dr. Boag and me, and demanded payment for allowing us to cure his daughter!

It took me some time, and at least four interpreters, to make the man understand that, if any payment was to be made, he, as the girl’s father, should pay Dr, Boag all the money he had.

The fortitude shown by that girl amazed us. Although she must have experienced excruciating pain, she did not murmur or give the slightest sign of suffering.

Another case of fortitude comes to mind. It was on the Laka River Estates, up behind Marshall’s Lagoon.

A Mambare boy, Boi Boi by name, cut one of his fingers with a piece of Kurri grass. My standby remedy in those days was Friar’s Balsam, so I put a few drops on. The result was that I found myself faced by an infuriated boy, who threatened to chop my arm off with his weeding knife. Fortunately, the boss boy, Tomu, from Bona Bona, caught him in time. After the pain had left him, Tomu and I lectured him, calling him a “small baby”, and a few other choice words in keeping with the case.

We had a horse-drawn reaper on the

estate and, by some mischance, Boi Boi, a week later, managed to walk into the knife. The contact almost severed his left foot. He was carried to the store, treated, and sent to Port by the lirst available means. He must have suffered great pain, but all he said, as he was leaving for Vilirupa, was: “Taubada, I no baby.”