Goodbye already?!?

Well in a way we were all born to say goodbye – I don’t suppose there’s much else to say when people die besides “I love you mum” and “wwwaaaaauu uggghhh aaaaaahhhhahh uuuhuuhuuuhuuh”.

And then there’s the odd ebb and flow of people, close and not-so-close, who in the interregnum between that time you get spat out all bloody and mewling and to the time of your final departure constitute your social world, teach you most of what you know, share the odd beer and otherwise just piss you off.

Being ‘away’ makes this whole process an even odder one, as the cavalcade of people taking their leave seems to be a pretty common event. Already some people we know well (or well enough at least) have taken there leave of PNG and it’s safe to say our lives here will be different in their absence. So here’s to youse…

To Emma in Hagen – was it ten weeks? No, eight weeks once you discount the two you camped at ours in Moresby. Oh well, there’s nothing like a good ol’ fashioned attempted carjacking to make you critically reevaluate your position in life. Safety em nambawan, and whoever said you were lucky not to be gang-raped was a FUCKER. Cheers to you, sorry it didn’t work out, catchya eh.

To Susie also in Hagen – well, I wouldn’t have stayed either. It’s one thing to be full of piss and bravado, and another thing to live by yourself in a town being ripped to bits from the inside out by blood-mad political partisans a la Western Highlands. Screw. That. As with Emma, I’m sorry it didn’t work out, but like I said, safety em nambawan. Take it easy Monty!

To Brigid – The profession I have come to appreciate the most in PNG thus far is the ‘driver’, that poorly paid individual who uncomplainingly gets you from A to B and to Z if necessary, typically without complaint. So cheers, and sorry mipela olgeta taim sidaun long back seat a. But of course there was more than the limo service – there was gin! And STOUT!!!!! So thanks for being casual on the balcony and tolerating two utter dags. Sapos yu lukim mi long Australia yumi ken pilai ‘raskol raskol’ na no ken wari tru. You’re a champion, and I wish you were sticking around – but I daresay you’ve been through enough! Cheers.

To Dave – if you ever drag yourself out of the steaming jungles of FNQ again then feel free to drop by. You’ll probably be madder and bushier next time we meet, but I think that’s the natural evolution for North Queenslanders – they don’t die, they just become giant crazy hairballs with a XXXX Gold constantly wedged in there somewhere. I’ll enjoy shocking people with your stories, but not all of them – I’m afraid sometimes stories should remain in the past where they came from. Oh, and I won’t forget you owe us a beer or two eh. Tall tales do not satisfy one’s thirst after all.

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