Chris is currently out of the office

Shopping in PNG is always an adventure. I try to encourage the other expats to go shopping for themselves so they can understand the difficulties that the buyers face. When I first arrived, I suspected that our buyers were taking breaks when shopping because it took them so long. Then I saw how the shops worked – if you want a discount you need to find a good sales person who will give you a formal written quotation for each item. Then, if you accept his price you need to get him to produce a picking list, then you need to negotiate the check out staff who require a code for every item. It’s depressing.

So we had a visit from one of the Canadian operations team and I was advised to tidy up the table I share with my 2 assistants in the very small logistics office. “Letter trays” were the recommended solution. So the next day I go letter tray shopping.

Shop 1 actually has a wide range of good quality letter trays. Unfortunately, it has none of the riser rods needed to support them. Puzzled, I asked the manager “Have I got this right – you sell the trays but not the riser rods?”. “Yeah, it does seem a bit crazy” he explains, “but our suppliers can’t get them to us”.

Shops in PNG tend not to have a regular stock of anything, they seem to just sell what ever they managed to get hold of. If you see something you need, best to buy it immediately as next week it could be gone. Shop 2 also had a range of letter trays and riser rods. “How much are these?” I asked. Puzzled looks all round. Nobody could tell me the price, “Could you come back tommorrow?” Shop 3 had some, but most were broken, very flimsy and clearly were not sufficiently Chris-proof to survive our cramped and hectic office. “Is there anywhere else?” I asked David, our driver/carpenter/artist/guide. David knows Lae and its’ residents pretty well. A few months ago his wallet was stolen and within a week it was handed back to him – money still inside. Arriving at the last shop I was relieved to see letter trays with riser rods. I got back to the office to find there was only half the number of riser rods needed to support the trays.

So it took 3 hours, but at least I can see the wood on the table. Shopping in PNG is stressful.

Photo: Chris Houston | The wood on the desk.

We had to buy colostomy bags – the hospital emergency department performed a temporary lower bowel bypass on a client of ours, but it doesn’t stock colostomy bags.  I asked why and I soon wished I hadn’t; she had been raped so violently that her excreta had been leaking into her vagina.  It makes me wonder about the hell that the women here go through.  What would havehappened if MSF were not here, what would have happened if she was not lucky enough to be within travel distance of our clinic?  What the hell is happening in the world?  It makes me upset and angry to write about it.

Our nurse basically forced the doctor to take a lunch break today – she hardly ever takes a break.  I went with her to get some food at the house. She was despairing that she has sent about 15 clients to get X-rays for broken bones this week and it’s only Thursday lunch-time.

As I write this I ponder…….should I write about this……..I think yes. People should know what is going on in 2009.  I hear stories every day that would make front page news in most places I’ve lived – but they don’t here.

Photo: Chris Houston | "Gender Equity" by Winston Kauge (junior)

I don’t know how the medics cope.  The stories I hear haunt me and I only
hear so few.

A women in last week with 2 broken arms.  When I thought of “domestic
violence” before I arrived I did not think that someone could break both
their wife’s arms.

A child raped and given 6 Kina (3 Euros not to tell).  A 14 year old raped
by the land owner in her village and then told that her family would be
evicted if she told anyone.

We open on public holidays and for a while we debated if it was worth it as
there is no public transport.  But there is no need for the debate now, we
opened following a holiday and had 10 new cases (which is a lot when there
are no busses running).  2 had been raped.  One by 3 men, one by 7.  The
doctor had to stitch one up.

I hear so little of what our clients endure that the tiny snippets make we
wonder how the medics and councellors and nurses don’t go crazy.

Our new boss arrived in town and after a busy week she instructed me to take Saturday off. I don’t take many days off, partly because I enjoy my job, but partly because there is not much to do in Lae when I’m not working.

So I decided to spend the morning having a look about the shops. The main house/hardware shop has a cafe, but I’ve not had the time before to try the food. It turns out they do fantastic food including a full breakfast which I was very much enjoying when I received a phone call from our nurse: Our third vehicle had broken down and she was stranded. In terms of all the day-to-day things that can go wrong, a vehicle breakdown ranks as a high priority. Raskols are quick to strip down or steal vehicles that are stranded in insecure areas and the nurse herself could be in danger without transportation. Fortunately she was in a car park of a transport company that we deal with and she quite safe. Nonetheless, getting the vehicle moving again was now an urgent priority. Our first car was being driven by a qualified mechanic so I sent him to the scene while I approached in vehicle 2.

Upon arrival the mechanic quickly diagnosed the battery as the problem. Seeing the vehicle parked facing up a small ramp, I guessed we might have a chance at jump starting it by letting it roll down the ramp and then bringing up the clutch, but the ramp was so short we would only get one chance at this. And in reverse. Expats don’t normally drive vehicles, but under pressure from the watching crowd of expats (telling us we had no chance to jump start a car down a 4 metre slope, in reverse) I decided it me who should give it a try. We got it moving and took it back for repair.

So much for my day off… I ended up back at the clinic sorting out flights for our registrar who is going to represent our project at an annual event in Canada. She has never been outside of PNG before, so she was pretty nervous.

Photo: Chris Houston | Tree in the MSF clinic

Later in the afternoon, I was working in the garden when I heard and felt a crunch that shook the ground. We get earthquakes every few days, but they are normally silent and this sounded of metal mangling. Well, it was; our driver had crunched our best vehicle’s wing into the compound gate. He was still sitting in the vehicle when I got there. He looked like the most terrified man I have ever seen in PNG – but getting angry with him wouldn’t have improved the situation. He was extremely shaken by the incident, so I told him to go and drink some coffee while we planned how to fix this one.

In the process of mangling the front wing he had also bent part of the gate so it could not lock. Fortunately the guards and I already have a plan of action for gate damage and we used a chain and padlock to close it pending bolt repairs.

The driver recovered his composure, but was clearly feeling awful about the incident. He offered to repair the vehicle himself (he is also a mechanic) although we declined – but I did take him up on his offer to fix the gate.

He turned up the next day with a welding machine and a grinder and our gate is now even better than it was before the accident.

Photo: C Houston | The boys and their cars, driver Noah and guard John

I warned the team to expect disaster as everyone should know that problems come in threes. With 2 out of 3 vehicles being in problems in a few hours I was keeping a watchful eye on the only surviving vehicle, but it was not until 11pm when we discovered our fate. Our generator failed. Working in the rain, our driver/mechanic, guard and myself tried everything to get the thing started. I advised the team that it seemed unlikely we were going to get it going and to stock up on batteries and prepare for an uncomfortable night without fans. The mechanic tried everything. Last time this happened we had to change the electronic control panel. We took it off, but was a sealed unit and not user serviceable. Maybe it was the contacts to the cable that were not so good? After 90 minutes, soaked and oily we decided to moisten the electrical contacts between the wire and the panel (with some Scottish saliva) and try to start her up again. It worked, much to the amazement of us all. We all burse out laughing. “You have very strong spit” the guard complimented me. The team were quite happy too.