Tuesday, 8 October 2013

Back at my drinking hole

Only 3.30 so having a less strenuous day today and on way back to hotel already. But already an interesting day. Decided yesterday to do the touristy thing so bought up on postcards. 21 are now posted and winging their way to you. A bit like Russia I doubt they will all arrive, but please tell me when you receive yours. My host, the anthpologist cum art historian Rose, has evolved a museum of original marquesan artefacts and so this morning I visited that. Great that she has collected, stored and done the best she can to maintain the artefacts, but hells bells I wanted to offer my services this morning. But where would one start  - in a non airconditioned climate controlled environment. Rose is getting on and I asked what will happen in the future. Apparently different people will claim different objects and the collection will be dispersed. There are so few remains of the old culture, thanks to the missionaries, that the loss of such an integrated collection would be a sad day. On the museology theme, heard there was an Australian couple arrived on a bigger yacht. Ran into them. They had already heard of me (small town here where differences are notable and the town crier is always at work - not really just seems that way) and Lesley Jenkins now NSW remembers me from my museology days in Qld. We knew all the same people etc etc. They are about to sail to Samoa, then she flies home to work (whoops that 4 letter word has struck). I cannot believe that in a few days time I will back in that gloomy office with its dirty windows while here, as I sip a refreshing beer looking out over the glistening harbour, and palms, frangipani and grapefruit trees shield me from the sun, I have fresh air, breezes drying my hair, and more glorious adventures to come. What else? At the bank I met young adventurer Phil from Canada who is sailing solo and has just taken 32 days to reach here from Hawaii. Currently he is taking a breather from work as a submarine engineer, but is en route to Adelaide to try and pick up some work. No Aussie girl will let him leave - both smart and gorgeous. I have invited him along for the road trip tomorrow. Discovered an information centre so now I know where I am. Which is important now I'm onto my 2nd beer. Found the only example of street food outside a convenience store and bought a Nam (from a transexual/would be transexual - not sure - lesbians and transexuals are well accepted here but not gay guys apparently). The Nam is a local version of a Spring Roll. Quite large and contained lots of vermicelli and then various other bits. But it was tasty and I have suffered no ill effects. Lets call that the morning tea snack. For lunch I discovered a van by the side of the road selling 2 lunch options. This was a smart French man not spreading himself too thinly. I wasnt so excited about 1 option but bought the second. C'etait magnifique. Let me get the saliva slipping once again from memory. A not so small mushroom quiche which would have won Masterchef for its slighly crumbly short pastry and the good quantity of mushrooms chopped to a good size and cooked so texture still sufficiently firm enough to be mushrooms. This was accompanied by two slices of excellent moist bread with firm crust. Plus a box with 3 half eggs resting on bed of finely sliced pale green leaves - unsure what that was but very edible; a massive amount of small pieces of fresh lettuce mixed with halved cherry tomatoes and halved sliced cucumber, a cluster of green string beans, and a pile of white cooked beans ( are they haricot?). There was a container of specially prepared salad dressing. This was a class act in presentation, in freshness and equals the broccoli and poisson a la chinoise dish for the best meal on Nuku Hiva. As I started lunch sitting in the shade, my normal guide Philip found me and that helped me get through all the food. Then, because I wanted to go up to the Territorial govt offices and find the person who organises the small husiness courses, Philip insisted he come up. Independent me wanted to go alone, god knows why I have to be something independent. Without Philip I would never have found the woman. Her English was as good as my French, so we didnt communicate fluently. Here if someone wants to start a business, they must get a license and to get this a person must complete a weeklong business course. When she asked would I consider coming to live here, with certain eyes, we both laughed. What an uphill battle it would be in this extended family environment where everyone takes offence easily, to teach someone how to be a profitmaking operator  - who speaks English. Well maybe more happened today but this 3rd beer is like the sea breeze, clearing my mind.

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