Having just reads some of Barry's writings and cognizant of all the brickbats against PNG and citizens (Mi save) I thought that I'd post the following experience of Barry. Barry hopes to have his book ready for the big ex tataas/chansett/patair reunion later this year.
The "Eddie Foi" Mat. PNG national Eddie Foi worked as an Asst. Operations Controller, or perhaps Asst. Tech Crew Scheduler, at Air Niugini, and from 1989 to 1995 I had overall management responsibility for whichever dept. it was. I didn't know Eddie very well personally, but he'd been in trouble with his Department Mgr. a few times for various misdemeanours, and had been referred to myself to discuss his sins on a couple of occasions. I can't remember the details, but on his second visit to my office I probably would have given him the old "three strikes and you're out" routine. Fortunately it didn't come to that, although at the time I would not have been surprised if it had, because he seemed to think he was being hard done by, and although he didn't say much in his own defence, Eddie did appear sullen, and certainly didn't offer any indication of trying to do better. Perhaps a year or so later, just one day before "going finish", wife Suzie and I were ensconced in a room at a leading Port Moresby hotel, having moved out of our unit on Air Niugini Hill so that our personal effects could be packed for air freighting back to Australia. Late in the afternoon the telephone rang, and it was Eddie Foi calling. "Mr. Hockings, I'm sorry to disturb you, but I'd like to come and see you." What's the problem, Eddie ?", I asked. It's a personal matter, Mr. Hockings, and I'd like to bring my wife along if that's OK". I became wary at this response, as domestic violence was a common problem in PNG, as in the rest of the world. "Can you tell me what the problem is ?", I persisted, but Eddie respectfully declined. "Not really, Sir. It's something I need to discuss with you face to face." I explained to Eddie, that as he knew, I was going finish next day, had vacated my office earlier that afternoon, was talking to him from a hotel room, and doubted I could do much to help him, whatever the problem. Eddie replied that he understood all that, but would really appreciate if I would see him, if only for a few minutes. "Where are you, Eddie ?", I asked. Eddie explained that he lived in a settlement, well known for violence and lawlessness, on the outskirts of Moresby, and could be at the hotel in less than half an hour, having managed to borrow a vehicle to make the trip. That was a minor miracle in itself, and perhaps added to my apprehension that I was about to get involved in a serious problem. It was late afternoon with darkness coming on, and quite apart from problems at the settlement itself, the trip into Moresby would have its own dangers, as it was a route on which even locally owned and operated PMV's, (Passenger Motor Vehicles), would often refuse to operate after dark. Particularly as he was bringing his wife, I pointed this out to Eddie, who as a settlement resident who ran the travel gauntlet daily, would have been entitled to think such advice was a touch presumptuous. However, he merely repeated that the matter to be discussed was very important, to the extent that he was quite prepared to risk any trouble on the road. I was running out of excuses,and so it was agreed that I would see Eddie in our hotel room. About a half hour later there was a knock on the door, and there was Eddie and wife. Eddie was carrying a roll of some plaited pampas grass type material, which I could see was about a metre and a half wide, and perhaps twice as long. This was set aside, introduction of our wives was carried out, and we sat down to discuss the business at hand. As is sometimes the case with PNG Nationals, there was some almost evasive small talk, during which I waited patiently for Eddie to come to the point, but eventually I had to bring the conversation to a head. "Now, what was it you wanted to see me about, Eddie ?" Eddie looked uncomfortable, and there were nervous glances exchanged between husband and wife, but he finally took a deep breath, stood up, and got it out. "Mr. Hockings", he said. "I know I've been a trouble to you at work sometimes, and I would like to say sorry for that. I would also like to thank you for the advice that you gave me on those occasions, and for allowing me to continue working at Air Niugini, and I hope I can repay you by doing better in the future. To thank you, and in the hope that you will remember us, my wife and I would like you to have this mat to take back to Australia with you tomorrow." Eddie went on to explain that this type of mat served a multi purpose in many PNG families, being used more as a sitting and/or sleeping area, than as a floor covering, and considered a family bonding area, much as we would use a dining room table or BBQ area. Such mats were sometimes given to family members leaving the family home, not just as a handy going away present, but also stating that the person departing would remain in the hearts and minds of those left behind. As an extension of that family tradition, Eddie said my acceptance of their gift would ensure that a similar link was forged between us, even though we might likely never see one another again. To say I was totally gobsmacked would be an understatement. These were people whose worldly possessions would have been few, and who lived in very basic third world conditions. Their settlement may have had any or all of electricity, sewerage, and running water, but just as likely had none of the above. Supply of whatever services they did have would have been erratic, as it was in Port Moresby proper. Their accommodation could have varied from a concrete block building at best, with two or four small rooms housing large numbers of extended family, (wontoks), to some sort of earth floor lean-to, covered with scraps of corrugated iron and similar, at the other end of the spectrum. Regardless of the standard of accommodation and probable lack of basic facilities such as toilets and running water, these people were expected to present themselves for work each day with an acceptable standard of dress and cleanliness, which was no mean effort considering the conditions. They would also have been expected to consistently report for work on time, which was another good trick considering the unreliable, sometimes non-existent transport, through a very dangerous area. Suitably humbled I thanked Eddie and his wife as graciously as I could, and shortly afterwards they departed, to make the dangerous trip, now in full darkness, back to their settlement. I don't know how things went for Eddie after I left, but "The Eddie Foi Mat" became an important part of our personal effects back then, and remains so to this day. After fourteen years of hard work underfoot it has become a bit frayed around the edges, but it will see a few more years yet, and might even see me out. If and when it does give up the ghost, we plan to cut out a small piece and frame and label it for posterity. Most importantly it has achieved its intended purpose, and we remember Eddie Foi fondly, as we trust he remembers us. I tell the story of "The Eddie Foi Mat" often. I hope life has treated him well.
Barry Hockings,
P.O. Box 64, / 3 Tharra St.,
Coolum Beach. Q4573.
email:
[email protected]
phone: 07-54463339