Not on the bombing side but the whole racism being taught is crap.
It may be enhanced and the fire of hatred may be fanned but the fact
that children do not fear other races instinctively is pure fantasy.
You live in a place where a child is introduced to other cultures and
different looking people from birth almost. You can not go a day without
seeing a person of a different heritage if you leave the house in most
places in Australia. It's the conditioning of children to accept other
cultures, that is what takes place, not the teaching them to fear them.
Babies at birth don't care about race, up to about 6 months they start
seeing a face and will not care what colour it is. Usually at about 9
months it all changes, instinct I think. Children that have seen me
numerous times will withdraw and will need coaching to accept me again.
As I said the child has to be encouraged to accept a person of a
different colour, even though they recognised me on their last visit.
This isn't a one off, I've seen it happen with every baby that I have
had a lot of contact with. After the second reintroduction it seems to
be ingrained that I am OK. I have even seen kids that accept me run and
hide at the sight of another "whiteman" and just about go into hysterics
if a group of them arrive.
I do harp on sometimes but I have, on many occasions, been the first
person of a different race that children have seen. Sometimes they may
have seen a light skinned person before but have never been close to
them and they have never interacted with them. Very young children will
cry, most will try and hide but all will be extremely timid. It's
ingrained in the human subconscious to be afraid of what is different.
Of course after a bribe (I often carry lollies when away from town) or
even better their friends laughing at them for being afraid, I will be
accepted, but always treated differently to those of the same race.
It can humerous to see reactions of some people, not just kids, when I
arrive in a remote place. It's not just the stranger part as because I
am white they seem to not rearguard me with the same suspicion that a
stranger of the same race as themselves may receive. The adults always
show more curiosity than anything else. The kids usually just run in
fear. 95% of the time they have heard that I will be in the area, and
know who I am, my name, who I am there to visit, and how long my stay
will be in the area. There seems to be a ritual to follow when visiting
a place and I have always been greeted warmly wherever I go.
End of statement about born in racism.
Following is just dribble really.
I always walk into the centre of the village, this allows me to be seen
by anyone there, and allows a few minutes for them (the villagers) to
work out who they are going to send to greet me. The most senior male,
or a relative of the person in the area I am there visiting will come
forward and will greet me with good morning/afternoon and introduce
themselves, and ask me if I am Brad, friend of ? who have come to see
the area. If they didn't know I was coming I will have a guide (local to
introduce me around) with me, I usually do anyway if I have not been
there before. I am welcomes and asked to sit down in the shade, while
this introduction has been happening the finest chair in the village has
appeared in the place where I am now invited to sit.
Now the pow-wow begins with greeting and an offer of refreshment.
Usually it is only men that will sit and talk on the first visit but it
relaxes more after each meeting. Bringing a small gift is polite but not
necessary.
One such gift I took to a village near Bulolo was comical. I had
purchased a bag of live mudcrabs in Lae and as I was going to one of my
employee's wives village I decided to take the crabs as a gift as it was
one of my workers and his kids favourite treats. After the 2 1/2 hour
drive and about an hours walk from the end of the track into the village
we sat down for the talks and stories. I had the crabs under the chair
in the plastic shopping bag. I was soon presented with a bilum (a
locally hand made string bag that each area has their own design and is
a traditional gift) I in return stood up and presented the bag of crabs.
This caused a small scurry with almost everyone leaving the area to
examine the present, it wouldn't have been polite for them to discus it
in front of me, perhaps. Mud crabs are not found in this area, my worker
had married a woman from a different area, as is becoming more prominent
now, he is from Madang where they do have them and they are a delicacy.
The spokesman returned with a strange question, "Where did you get these
crabs?" As it was a strange question, as he knew I had come up from Lae
that day I responded that I had picked them up in a small creek we had
crossed while walking from the car. The spokesman returned to the group
looking in the bag and a spirited conversation took place between the
clan. My worker was at this time having a difficult time stopping
himself from laughing, as he could see the confusion my statement was
causing. It was not even considered by the group that this important
(all whiteman seem to be considered important) person would carry live
creatures all the way from Lae, then carry them himself on the walk to
the village, as they saw me walk in with the bag. The spokesman
returned after some time with a simple statement, "No you didn't"
By this time my worker couldn't retain his mirth and explained that, I
myself ate crabs and as I was looking forward to the visit to the
village. I knew they did not have access to what I considered a tasty
treat I had purchased them in Lae, with the knowledge that they (the
tribe) would give me a gift that had taken days to make, and I wanted to
give them something special. He also included that I had responded in
such a way to the question because I am a clown, but had not shown or
intended any disrespect, I had just not understood why they had asked me
such a question about my gift to them. He also explained that I had
asked him to show them how to roast them on the fire if they needed
instruction, and added that in his home that these crabs are considered
the tastiest of all meats. Steven also added that I was showing them
some of his culture as well as my own, as they had done with the bilum.
This statement, and the fact that they now realised that I had
considered their gift as important, and wanted to return to them a gift
of similar uniqueness went over quite well. (Just this minute I heard
they had thought the crabs were ugly and quite scary while alive but the
taste when cooked, had won them over. Steven's suggestion of a little
salt had made them all happy.)
Years later I was in the rough area looking at a hot spring when some
local teenagers had approached us to say hello. I had my parents with me
at the time and these lads were carrying their machetes and would have
been quite scary for many people. The local I had with us introduced me
and told them I was Steven's boss as well as explaining that I was
showing my parents around the country. As they were walking away I heard
them talking about cooka, which made me grin, I told my parents that
they were talking about the story of the whiteman that had carried
strange creatures all the way up here to give to the people on the next
hill. Cooka is Tok pisin for crab. Mum had remembered the story I had
sent in an email to her and was amazed that even people so far from the
village knew the story so many years later.
No power or TV means that any notable event gets told and retold and
stories are the main form of entertainment in the villages. Most of the
conversations that took place were in Tok pisin which is far more
comical when told in story form then English.
I visit a few different places around the country and have made quite a
lot of friends in remote areas. I'm not a misho or an environmental
rapist (logger or miner) so I am welcomed almost anywhere I choose to go.
Almost every trip into the bush has a story to tell, if you enjoyed this
one I am glad, if you didn't, I warned you this was dribble.
--
Brad Leyden
6° 43.5816' S 146° 59.3097' E WGS84
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