The Evolution of a Sinabada

By Vyvian Garth

“VTOW that you are going to Papua ll you will be a lady of leisure, with nothing to do, and natives to do all your work.” So said my friend as she bade me good-bye when I sailed for my new home, in Papua.

After two years in this country with a “native to do all the work” I could en lighten her quite a lot. Things are not always what they seem, dear sister. The little “fuzzv-wuzzy angels” of war-time poem and song are just as fuzzy-wuzzy as ever, but as for being “angels” . , .!

Of course, a new Sinabada is a great target for the designing schemes of brown-skinned cherubs. She is new to the country. She does not know the tricks of natives. She can be taken in beautifully.

And they proceed to take her in. How can she know how hard natives should work? It is clearly an opportunity for a go-slow policy on the part of the cherub. If Sinabada says, “Now, get on with the work, Mero”, Mero shakes a fuzzy head, raises languid eyes, places a hand over his stomach, and says mournfully “Too hard, Sinabada; me plenty big pain; me job him tomorrow; me go sleep boy-house; me big sick.”

And how is an anxious new Sinabada to 'know that plenty big pains never existed? Or that the need for sleep was caused by the fact that up in the boy house was Mero’s friend just returned from work on a plantation?

It is only old Sinabadas who know in tuitively when brown tummies are all right; and who is visiting the boy-house at any given moment. New Sinabadas never know such things—to the un bounded joy of all brown Meros.

Neither, for that matter, do new Sina badas know the various ways and means of procuring Taubada’s clothes, either temporarily or permanently. To procure them temporarily is really quite easy, providing there is a laundry in the house.

What could be simpler, after washing is finished, than to quickly iron a white singlet and shorts instead of leaving them for the main “iron” next day, sneak them up to the boy-house, don them at walk-about time that evening, show off to all one’s uncles and brothers, and then return them with the other ironing next day? Who is to know what happened? Certainly not a new Sina bada.

Neither does she yet know the wisdom of mending all holes in clothing before wash day, as two quick eyes soon dis cover. It is amazing how quickly a hole, carefully assisted by two brown fingers, can become an ugly tear. Later, when the clothes are dry, an apparently woe begone laundry-boy approaches Sinabada with torn shirt and downcast eyes.

“Sinabada, me plenty sad. The wind he big. Taubada’s shirt he break.”

Sinbada, who has noticed the hole be fore wash day. and read a new novel in stead of mendins her lord’s attire, looks at the tear with guilty eyes.

Later, confession being made to Tau bada, and the force of the wind being duly stressed he says tolerantly, “Don’t bother, dear. When things start going in this country, they go. You can’t do anything about it. Give it to the boy.”

After which, the shirt being bestowed, two bare, brown feet skim the path to the boy-house, two bright eves gleam with proud possession, two grubby hands pull a* torn shirt over a fuzzv head. Yes, it is easy enough to get Taubada’s clothes when you work for a new Sinabada, and know the way.

THEN there is the question of the boy’s rations. It is amazing how soft is the heart of a Sinabada who has just arrived in the country. And equally amazing how hard it can become in a few months’ time.

At first, the fact that Mero’s father and mothers, uncles and brothers auto matically arrive from the village every ration day, and just as automatically tread the path to the boy-house, holds no significance for her. None, that is, till the inevitable happens—the week’s rations are finished in four days, and a very hungry boy arrives in the kitchen, belt pulled in, face pinched, eyes pleading “Sinabada can you help me please? Me big hungry. Kai he all finished. Last night no kai. Breakfast no kai. Very big hungry.”

Sinabada’s astonishment is unbounded, “But your ration, Mero? I .gave you your week’s ration.”

“Sinabada, my fathers, them come from village. Them very old. Them eat him.”

Righteous indignation flares in Sina bada’s soul. This poor innocent! To have all his food eaten by those wicked men! Ah, tender indeed is the heart of a new Sinabada!

The fathers and mothers, the uncles and brothers rejoice exceedingly, and assist with unabated zeal to help Mero eat the loaf of bread she gives him.

SUCH are some of the varied ways in which a new housewife in this country becomes initiated into The Wise and Wary Order of Papuan Sina badas.

But the end is not yet.

The next stage is one of enlightenment, during which the scales drop from her innocent eyes, and the wings from her fuzzy cherubs. Strange presentiments propel her into the kitchen just as Mero’s finger is hastily withdrawn from the jam pot; memory ticks off Taubada’s hankies on the very wash day when two are miss ing; she developes an X-ray knowledge of the source of “plenty big pains,” and Epsom salts take up a permanent home in the cupboard.

The age of innocence has ended. That of knowledge is ushered in—and know ledge, especially half-knowledge, can be a very painful thing. For instance, why is one’s tooth brush so wet just after the bathroom has been done? How is it one’s hair brush has a greasy smell?

What makes the bed crumpled when one has been out for the afternoon?

Who knows? Certainlv not Mero. His face is quite blank. He did not touch any toothbrush; he knows nothing about Sinabada’s hair brush; and he never went near the bedroom.

There may be times when “Ignorance is bliss,” but there are certainly times when it is not.

But as knowledge increases, wisdom at last comes into its own. Tooth-brushes are put out of the way of curious fingers; hair brushes are locked in the wardrobe; mysterious locks appear from nowhere and find a home on cupboard doors. The appearance of the house undergoes a subtle change. It has become “boy proof.”

The lines smooth out of Sinabada’s forehead. She has learnt the tricks of the trade. Her training is finished at last.

She is a fully qualified member of The Wise and Wary Order of Papuan Sina badas.