Tropicalities

A PASSENGER who recently returned to “civilisation” after the Matuh had called at Pago Pago (American Samoa) for the second time in her career, says that there is a rumour that she will call there about once every four months in 1949.

Our passenger also brought a story of a recent visit of the French sloop, Dumont D’Urville, to Pago. It appears that the sloop was there almost a week and that the purpose of her visit was to effect necessary repairs to a monument to Frenchmen who were killed by Samoans a number of years ago at Asu.

Pago was full of French sailors but, on the whole, they appeared to have a thin time due mostly to the shatter ing exchange rate of francs on dollars.

They made little progress with the local belles, also, no doubt because of the above and also because of their inability to speak English.

A party of six of the sailor lads did, however, find something of the once famed Samoan hospitality. They had gone into the Pago beer tavern and pooling all their resources managed to buy three pint bottles of beer which they took turns at sipping.

This is how the Samoan Chief of Police found them. He was so horrified at what he took to be their poverty, that there and then he stood treat for a bottle of beer each and a carton of cigarettes.

Those French sailors thought he was a millionaire.

In spite of their dollar-poverty, how ever. they are reported as being a “happy lot of men, of good physique—and I never heard that they were involved in any brawls while the ship was in port. Per haps because they couldn’t afford to get drunk!”

THE recent return of the £NZ to sterling naturally had many reper cussions in Fiji, but I’m afraid that to many of the Fijjians the in tricacies of international finance are beyond comprehension—as they are to me, sometimes.

I tried the other day to explain the situation to a Fijian who quite under stood that some money was “bad” and other “good”, but could not see how, overnight, the position could change.

My arguments were complicated in his eyes by the fact that many of the Fijian notes are NZ notes overprinted.

However, the incident made me think of a time when I was living in a rathei remote part of the Pacific, and where many of my daily wants were provided by a very likable old rogue from a nearby village. Money rarely entered into our transactions. Instead, we had a delightful ‘'service-barter” arrangement which worked to our mutual satisfaction and advantage.

The book-keeping consisted of a sheet of paper pasted up on my back porch and the transactions were recorded after this fashion;—

Pereti

Solder kettle.

One white shirt (old).

Pay Tiko’s water rate (10/-).

Fix sewing machine.

Mend bicycle.

Write letter to Govt, for Tiko.

Even without Govt. Price Control we somehow managed very well, and I’m afraid we never worried over the “ex change rate”, although from the twinkle in Tiko’s eye at times I’m sure he imagined the rate to be “in his favour”!

Periti.

PROFESSOR Charles Schindler, who has been at the University of Queensland since it opened in 1911, has retired, and he says, he will go to live with his son in New Guinea.

He says that he has marked so many examination papers that he does not know whether the number is 120,000 or 12,000. Nor does he care. His main object in going to New Guinea is to get the natives together to form a League for the Prevention of Examinations!

I HAD an illuminating chat with a Sepik native, the day the New Guinea Administrator paid his hurried visit to Angoram—he arrived there by plane and was gone again in side 90 minutes (writes a Sepik correspon dent).

I was walking along the air-strip, near the dais which had been erected for the convenience of His Honour, who was to address a large assemblage of natives.

I explained to a curious group the pur pose of the dais.

Rather hesitantly, one of the natives asked me if the “Gubmint” (the admini strator) was one of my colour.

I answered “Yes”; and to my surprise the native registered extreme disapproval.

He uttered a lament that they had come such a long way merely to see another white man.

Rather puzzled, I asked him what he had expected. He told me that they had expected to see a man like themselves— a dark man—because they had been assured by Government officials that the “Gubmint” was now designed for the natives and not for the whites.

The disappointment of this group of primitive Sepiks was marked—and re markable.

FIJI Arts Club, in a three nights season in mid November, presented Coward’s “Blithe Spirit” to delighted Suva audiences. Great attention to details of production and the designing of the set, as well as good acting, lifted the show far above amateur class.

Mr. James Crawford, of the Suva Bank of New Zealand, took the part of Charles Condomine, the novelist; Miss Dorothy Kearsley played Ruth, Charles’ second wife; Mrs. Joan Chalmers was the medium, Madame Arcati; Mrs. Delia McDonald was Elvira the Spirit. Support ing roles were taken by Lorna Bradley, Eric and Enid Bevington. Stage manager was Mr. Kelvin Pinson and the very excellent set was built by architect Fred Beckett of Suva.

Tiko

Basket Taro. 2 baskets kumera.

Cut grass 2 days.

Bunch bananas.

Chop firewood. 2 chickens.

ERROL FLYNN may be seen in New Guinea again. He has urged* his studios to let him go to Australia to make a film based on the pearling in dustry; and if he gets his way, it may be taken as certain that his film-making will lead him back for one more look at his old stamping-grounds in Papua and New Guinea. At present, he is on his way to Europe—he is to star in a film made in Paris.

AS monuments to the Rockefeller Foundation and the raising of • hygienic standards in the South Seas, there is one thing that has attained extraordinary prominence: The family outhouse.

In Western Samoa they adorn the waterfront in endless varieties of in genious architecture, even though the degree of decrepitude is pretty constant, as is also, I imagine, the precariousness of the visit thereto.

One cannot say that they enhance the beauty of otherwise delightful beaches, and they must surely detract from the romance on tropical moonlight nights!

Over in the Cook Islands the style varies, and although the prominence remains, at least the waterfront has es caped. From what I can gather, the original specification ordained a pit of a certain depth. But to dig a pit in coral rock is really hard work, and so some ingenious digger, after a while, called it a day, but in order to keep to the specification, he transferred his energies to the top of the hole, built up a coral cement hollow-mound, placed the edifice on top, made a few steps to reach same, and hey presto!—the‘job was done!

Apparently the idea caught on, and it is now common to see the family throne perched up five or six feet in the air, and of course in full view of all.

Alas, as in Samoa, time has wrought havoc with many of the buildings, but, after all, what is a missing door or a few wall boards if the view from within is so much better?

This brings to my mind an occasion some years ago when I was cycling around Titikaveka, in Rarotonga. I could hear a great hullabaloo in the distance, and on coming around a bend in the road the scene which greeted me was mother, yelling blue murder, and marooned up in the throne house (which was sans door, by-the-way), an irate bull bellowing and stamping around the base, and, at a discreet distance, the whole family verbally endeavouring to induce the bull to raise the siege.

I had no camera, unfortunately!

Periti.

11HE manner in which a slice of Prin cess Elizabeth’s wedding-cake, re ceived at Government House, Fiji, was divided up and distributed far and wide across the Pacific, to serve various charitable and ceremonial purposes, was described in the September issue of the “PIM.” Here is some further history. The section destined for the British Solomon Islands was raffled, for the benefit of the leper settlement on Guadalcanal. The winner, Mr. G. F. Witty, viewed the pre cious morsel, and then re-wrapped it and sent it to his daughter, at a school in New Zealand. There, the package was greeted with wild enthusiasm: the unwrapping was made a formal ceremony; the confec tion was then split up into crumbs, which were distributed among certain lucky girls; and, at last advices, the youngsters were meticulously sleeping upon their crumbs and comparing dreams!