Simple Pidgin

"Tirpitz" Knows

Now!

N. Guinea Economics In Simple Pidgin

IHAD been on a recruiting trip and now sat in the Buka sunshine, get ting a bit of sun tan. It was much more restful than chasing around the villages trying to induce the local lads to take up shovel and hoe and join the ranks of producers.

I had promised that they should begin work at seven and finish at four, with an hour for lunch, and that no one would speak crossly to them or cast any doubts as to the married state of their parents.

But, it would appear, many quite un expected and urgent jobs had suddenly cropped up in the villages and prevented them from accepting my much appre ciated offer!

So, after mutual expressions of regret and esteem, I bowed myself out and con tinued my merry journey. Blessed is he that expecteth nothing for, verily, he shall not be disappointed. I hadn’t ex pected anything.

And now, as I sat. I saw a canoe approaching the beach. Big, gondola like it sat the water like a duck, and was being powerfully propelled by 11 “highly respectable gondoliers” who sang the high, wild song of the Buka boat men as they came rapidly towards me.

When they disembarked, I observed an old acquaintance of mine advancing— one who had worked for me in the Ad miralty Group years before. He had been

with the Germans as a youngster and had tripped round on their gun-boats.

When I first knew him he had worn a two-pronged beard and was known as “Tirpitz”; but, since razor blades had become common, he had turned clean shaven.

Halting in front of me he gave me a Jap naval salute, bowed and said, “Good morning, Master.” This greeting was really a nice change after the “Goo’day” of the modern Buka-ite, or the “ ’Alio, Joe” of the British Solomons, but I felt I had to utter reproof regarding the Jap salute.

It seemed that he had had a fit of mental aberration, as sometimes happened in his later years. He had been under the Japs during the four-years’ occupa tion, and they were strong-minded people who were most insistent about observances of the kind. If you disre gard their wishes they might “shorten you a whole head’s length”; so the thing had become a habit with him. Yes, he admitted that it was a bad show!

He said he had just dropped in for a chat, so I invited him to be seated, which he did. He produced a filthy and battered pipe, into the empty bowl of which he thrust a grimy forefinger, and looked appealingly at me meantime.

I took the hint and handed him some tobacco, so he loaded the gun, borrowed my matches and lit up. remarking that “tobak” was a scarce commodity these days. I remarked, “You’re telling me!”

HE said that times had changed since the war—and for the worst. Formerly on his coast-wise trips, he would see smoke rising from the copra-dryers, signs of activity on the plantations, pinnaces scooting about the big lagoon,

natives in mons and canoes taking copra to sell at the trade stores or returning with purchases, an old schooner with sails up coming in from Rabaul, and signs of life and commerce.

He used to enjoy taking his bit of copra to a plantation store to sell, whilst he talked and decided upon his purchases.

He liked to exchange news and views with the planter folk, whom he got to look upon as good friends.

He missed the regular inter-island steamers and copra schooners coming for copra and bringing their cargoes, and time-expired labourers returning to their villages. It all meant movement and life and kept the natives alert and in terested.

Now, the whole coast was silent and deserted, with overgrown plantations and generally depressing air of desolation and abandonment. He said it made him feel sad and at a loss.

I sighed, and said, “True too much.”

Having borrowed my matches again he went on to say that the district was full of disturbing rumours. The natives seemed to be expecting the millenium— or something like it—to arrive shortly.

There was talk of higher education and that grown men and women were to at tend schools and be paid and fed by a benevolent Government. Wages were soon to rise substantially—all the native ex-soldiers said so. No one was to work unless he ardently desired to do so, and then the urge must come from within!

They had heard about the wonderful sums that were being paid out, and were to be paid out, for war damages, to natives. Was it true that one small coastal village had been paid £3OOO for war damages?

The authority of the older men was now

being seriously undermined by the younger men who said it was part of the New Order. Why were all trade goods so scarce and dear, and why did not the ships come as formerly? Could I explain things a bit to him and could I tell him what to expect in the future? Was an other war impending and would the Japs, return, as they said they would do, in due course?

ITOLD him in careful Pidgin that I could not give him any enlighten ment as to future prospects, policy and security. Like all other plantation people, I was much in the dark. Our pro blems centred round shipping, supplies, and labour available, without any of which we could not operate. He must understand that times were difficult, and one could only hope for the best.

He seemed to be a bit disappointed, and more than a little bored, and his pipe had gone out again. So, between us, we re-lit it and I then decided upon a new angle of attack. I would give him straight English.

Rising from my chair, and hitching up my slacks, I shook an admonitory fore finger under the ancient’s nose and said, forcefully: “Now, you get this! It’s a question of economics. Without shipping, supplies and labour we cannot hope to produce copra, and plantations must close down.

In order to have things, you must pro duce something in exchange. Without copra, we cannot provide two-way freights for vessels, and there is no reciprocity of trade, which is essential to our economic set-up, and if we want any con sideration in way of shipping services, supplies, trade goods, and the good things of the earth.

“People who don’t work and produce just don’t get anywhere or have any thing! That, my friend, is a ‘law of God,

and Man, and cannot be dodged, side tracked or avoided!

“To sum up the position: No labour, no production. No ships and no supplies means isolation, stagnation, desperation and damnation! Alright! Finish Palaver!

You been hear ’im good, eh?”

THE ancient’s pipe had gone out and had dropped from his nerveless fingers, but his eyes were bright with what I hoped was comprehension! He gulped, girded his lap-lap round himself and told me it was “strong fella talk too much,” and although he was hazy on many points, he felt quite sure that I was right in my contentions and now he would go and “show ’im good along all the boys!”

He strode across to his friends and was soon ringed about by an attentive audience. He declaimed loudly and at length, and, apparently, successfully

rammed home point after point. Finally, he struck first into open palm and de manded of the circle, “You fella savvy good now? Suppose you no savvy you must talk!”

They answered him as one man: “Me fella hear ’im finish, now me fella savvy, too.”

The ancient one now turned back to me, saying, “Orright, Master, me like go now.”

Soon the gondoliers took their places in the mon, the steersman gave curt orders to trim the ship properly, the paddles dipped as one, the water churned under powerful strokes, and they shot away over the wavelets.

Presently their chant was borne back on the breeze, and it seemed to have a new note in it! I hoped that it might be one of clearer understanding and a determination to do the right thing!—

Ppa,