Perth Bush flowers & Wild Kimberley tour September 2013

September 29, 2013 at 11:23 pm (Commentary)


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A disturbing account

September 29, 2013 at 8:07 am (Commentary)

An Account of a Disgusting and Deplorable set of actions against an Innocent Child!


Some years ago a young man in his thirties gave me a written account of an event in his life:

I knew about this event, but didn’t really know how painful it was to me until my wife asked me the question around whether I was abused as a child. That question just triggered my memory about it and I started crying, saying over and over again things like: “Why did he do this to me?” “I did nothing wrong.” “I was just a little boy.”

I remember when I was about 4 or maybe 5 years old at a family gathering, this young guy, started at first taunting me. He did things like putting me on his shoulders and walking back and forth under a low doorway bashing my head continuously. I don’t remember all the things that happened, except being petrified of him as he kept threatening me that if I cried or screamed that he would kill me and my family. For hours he just kept verbally and physically aggressive. My brother saw some of it. I think he also threatened him. I remember feeling really trapped and scared. I couldn’t cry or do anything because I knew he’d hurt me more. I just wanted to escape and get to my parents but he made sure I couldn’t.

He later took me outside in a park and took my pants off. He was saying my penis was an ugly, disgusting thing. He then started poking at it with a stick, slapped at it a few times, threw things at me. He was laughing, telling me something like I should be ashamed of myself. He also kept threating me. He then saw some people coming from a distance, he then said I should be ashamed of myself for having my pants down and showing this to him, saying something like: “Look there’s girls coming, aren’t you disgusted by yourself, they’ll come here and start laughing at you too.” I can’t remember how I got away, but I managed eventually to get to my Dad.

I told him about it. I’m not sure how much because I was scared. All he did was to tell me I should stay away from him. I felt really let down by that. I also felt let down by my brother not doing anything. I remember the guy was staring at me for the rest of the afternoon in the same threating way. I felt like if I said anything more he’d start again and maybe hurt my family.

I didn’t ever cry about this event or really tell anyone about it, I think I just dismissed it. I know I’ve suppressed a lot ot it. But when it came out I only realized the pain  I held inside over it and that it’s been a large factor in the disturbances I’ve had all my life, (especially in regard to sex and shame and self-loathing).

The perpetrator of these shameful acts would now be a man in his late forties. I know his name but very little else about him.

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Knights of the Realm in PNG

September 25, 2013 at 1:13 am (Commentary, Dreikikir, East Sepik District, Maprik, Papua New Guinea, PNG, Sir Pita Lus)

To say that knights of the realm are thin on the ground in Wewak is not exactly correct. Without too much trouble on any one day in the town, you could run into Sir Hugo, Sir Michael, Sir Pita, and other knights.

In January of this year I saw Sir Pita Lus, but didn’t recognise him, as it had been many years before that I had last seen him.

Sir John Kaputin once wrote this of Sir Pita:

“The former member for Maprik, Sir Pita Lus might have been perceived as vociferous and a loose cannon, but, behind this façade, there was a very serious mind concerned with real issues, expressed in pidgin with lots of humour and punctuated with colourful phrases in English.”

I had encountered Pita many years before in and around Dreikikir, well before he was elected to the House of Assembly. On one occasion he waved down the Land Rover I was travelling in from Maprik to Dreikikir, and in a rather forceful manner seemed to be demanding a lift to Dreikikir. I responded to him by asking, was he asking or telling me to give him a lift? His manner then changed, and he said he was asking. I then said to him: “Get in the back.”

This year while in Wewak in company with Peter Johnson, Peter saw and started talking to Sir Pita. After Pita left I asked Peter: “Who’s that?” I was informed that  was Sir Pita Lus. (Please excuse my conversational grammar!)

Later I was motivated to write to Sir Pita in my rather poor Pidgin, resulting in me not sending the epistle:

16 Janueri, 2013

Dia Sir Pita,

Mi sori tude, mi luk long yu, tasol mi no save pes bilong yu, taim yu tok long Peter Johnson long klostu pos ofis long Wewak.

Bipo mi wok long Malaria Control long Dreikikir, nau mi save long yu wok long Talatala Misin.

Bihain mi ofiso long 1964 Ileksen.

Mi lik tok gude long yupela,

Dave Wall

What I was trying to write in so many words, was that I was sorry not to have recognised him, and that I knew him many years before when I was with Malaria Control in Dreikikir, and he was with the Protestant Mission.  Also, in 1964 I was an electoral officer

Here are just a few thoughts of mine about a knight of the realm, and a former colourful PNG politician.

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The years take their toll!

September 21, 2013 at 11:59 pm (Commentary)

d-d1 Dave Wall with Graham Greene 002

They went with songs to the battle, they were young.
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.

They shall grow old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall  weary them, and the years condemn.

My apologies to Laurence Binyon! Also to Don Bosgard!

The good news is that I’ve just been offered honorary membership of the Soviet Ministry of Sex for the Elderly.  See:

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If nothing else we live in interesting times!

September 20, 2013 at 1:06 am (Commentary)

Something – that great Beatles song!

Something in the way she moves
Attracts me like no other lover
Something in the way she woos me
I don’t want to leave her now
You know I believe and how

Somewhere in her smile she knows
That I don’t need no other lover
Something in her style that shows me
I don’t want to leave her now
You know I believe and how

You’re asking me, will my love grow?
I don’t know, I don’t know
You stick around now it may show
I don’t know, I don’t know

The way things are shaping up in the ACT, I’ll soon to able to marry my mate. I must say the prospect doesn’t grip me! But then again, one man’s meat is another man’s poison.

I’m not sure the above song could be sung at my wedding, but then one never knows.

A friend of mine some years ago was carrying on with a married woman, and she suddenly got pregnant. He wasn’t worried because he said he’d done his sums. Not myself having too much faith in his maths, I was not as confident as he was, in that he was not the father.

In this day and age one is not permitted to speak of : cutting off a slice or being red-blooded. If a term like this slips out my feminist friends go up in arms!

One, of course, should never say as I sometimes say: I need a bad woman.

A philosopher friend of mine once told me that the average red-blooded male only loses the sex urge three days after death!

First world countries have the luxury of being rather obsessed with sex. Their societies are flooded with pornography and commercial sex. The Internet is a hot bed of debauchery and unspeakable visions, as Henry Mayer prophesied it would be years ago. Even a rather self-respecting male like the writer is sometimes tempted to exchange a few dollars for a quick roll in the hay! What all this does for the concept of romantic love and relationships I hesitate to say!

A film like Brief Encounter starring Trevor Howard and Celia Johnson made in 1945; a rather beautiful protrayal of love and romance, would hardly get any regard/currency with the general public today.

There’s no doubt that sex is a great thing, but if its pleasure becomes all there is to it, I fear for such societies.

I must confess in my case the her is always there not the him, and I identify with the song, and agree that there is:  Something in the way she moves (and)
Attracts me like no other lover… 

Another thing that bugs me in today’s thinking is the word, spirituality.

A definition: OED: “spirituality The quality or condition of being spiritual; attachment to or regard for things of the spirit as opposed to material or worldly interests.”

In Australia the indigenous are always described as spiritual, whether they are bush dwellers or dysfunctional urban people. I never seem to hear the British, or those of British descent described as spiritual.

I must confess that I’m rather proud of my English ancestors who hailed from Shepherds Bush in London. Some of them in my book were truly spiritual.

At this stage I’ll end as I’m sure I’ve irritated enough people!

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Michael McNeice on the Sepik River with Sava Maksic in 1968

September 19, 2013 at 7:02 am (Commentary, PNG, Sepik River)

Doc17.docx Michael’s trip upriver Doc17.docx Michael’s trip upriver Doc17.docx Michael’s trip upriver

Click on the above to see Michael’s photos.

Michael McNeice NSW said,

September 18, 2013 at 9:10 pm ·

“I would like to make contact with Sava Maksic as I have a lot of photos I would like to share from 1968 on the Sepik.”    Michael McNeice

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A reunion of those who knew Angoram in the old days

September 18, 2013 at 8:53 am (Angoram, Commentary)





Or just make a comment on the blog.

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Ministry of Sex for the Elderly

September 17, 2013 at 4:23 am (Angoram, Commentary, Donald Gordon Bosgard, East Sepik District, Sepik River)

A Tribute to Comrade Stalin

This is a true account of an initiate taken and proposed by the great Stalin when he was still General Secretary of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union on the 17th of May 1952.

He announced that he intended to create a new ministry under the Council of Ministers, and this ministry was to be headed by a comrade who at the time resided in faraway New Guinea in a town on the Sepik River called Angoram.

This new ministry was to be responsible for all sexual activity undertaken by Soviet Citizens over fifty years of age, and was to be called Sex for the Elderly. All successful sexual orgasms by the elderly were to be recorded, and kept in the Ministry of Sex for the Elderly.

You can imagine what an uproar this caused in the Central Committee.

Molotov and Khrushchev respectively asked Stalin, why this new Ministry was necessary?  In their opinion, as Soviet Citizens the elderly did not, and should not indulge in sexual activity.

To this Comrade Stalin responded, by pointing out to them that he himself was an old man, and were they questioning his right to have sex. Their only answer was to recognize the General Secretary’s right.

The discussion then moved to questions about this Comrade in Angoram – who is he?

Stalin pointed out to them that he is a Georgian, and in the early days of the revolution he was always with him. After Lenin died he left the Soviet Union, and under an assumed name studied for a liberal arts degree at Oxford University, specialising in Sexology. After this, he moved to Australia, ending up in PNG on the Sepik River. The name of this gentleman was only given guarded mention, but Stalin assured the Committee that he was well known to Temoshenko, and Bulganin. Also the concept of Socialism in one country was very dear to him.

Because it would be well-nigh impossible for him to proceed to the Soviet Union without direct assistance Stalin directed that a submarine be sent to the mouth of the Sepik River to collect him.

During these discussions Stalin only ever gave the man in question the name, Nikolai.

He informed the Committee that Nikolai had been discreetly informed of his appointment, and gladly accepted it. He was told to proceed to a village called Kopar, at the mouth of the Sepik, and await developments.

To the reader there may be aspects of this tale that appears to be purely fictional, but there is local evidence that supports the validity of this account.

In the early nineteen sixties I spoke to a well- known local identity, Potoman. He was a native of Kambaramba Village, and a domestic servant for a number of expats in Angoram.

He spoke of a Masta Charles, who spent a lot of time in Kambaramba, and then suddenly disappeared after going down river.

Don Bosgard, the President of the Angoram Club from the late fifties to the early seventies, told me there was a character in and around Angoram who was known to the locals as Masta Charles. Don did meet him once or twice, and to him, he seemed to be an Eastern European who spoke English with a slight English accent. Well, he was around, and suddenly was no more to be seen! Don also told me he’d seen a letter from the Australian Security Intelligence Organisation dated in the early fifties, asking the Kiap in Angoram to keep his eyes open, as a suspect Soviet agent was in the area.

I can’t get any direct information about the Ministry of Sex for the Elderly in the Soviet Union. We know that Comrade Stalin died in 1953, and perhaps this didn’t give him enough time to fully support Nikolai and the Ministry.

I sometimes wonder if Guy Burgess heard anything of the Ministry of Sex for the Elderly. He and Maclean fled to the Soviet Union in 1951.

As to Nikolai maybe he had an orgasm with an elderly Soviet Citizen, and just passed away.

Lapun Willie, a doktaboi in Angoram, and a native of Kopar Village, at the mouth of the Sepik, told me of many strange things that happened near his village, after a white man arrived there around about the time we are looking at. This man he said suddenly disappeared, and there occurred a number of unusual happenings at the mouth of the river with lights going on and off.

Whatever else happens, it’s important that these historical facts are recorded for posterity.

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A part of me remains in the Sepik forever!

September 16, 2013 at 2:43 am (Angoram, Commentary, East Sepik District, Sepik River)

I recently watched: “An Englishman Abroad  a 1983 BBC television drama film, based on the true story of a chance meeting of an actress, Coral Browne, with Guy Burgess (Alan Bates), a member of the Cambridge spy ring who worked for the Soviet Union whilst with MI6. The production was written by Alan Bennett and directed by John Schlesinger; Browne stars as herself.”

Source: Wikipedia

In this Burgess is portrayed as something like a fish out of water. He is exiled to Moscow, but still remains an Englishman through and through.

For some strange reason, which to me just now is not obvious, I thought of the numbers of former PNG expatriates now living abroad from Papua New Guinea with that country still deeply imbedded in their hearts.

For those of us who went there as young people, the experiences and the people we encountered have remained with us forever.

As a young man of nineteen I worked on a plantation in Papua.

What a strange inexperienced, racist, and rather objectionable individual I was in those days – a person indoctrinated with a Catholic view of sexuality which condoned only one form of sexual activity outside of marriage – the wet dream!

I can remember being rather amazed to learn that some whites had sexual relations with the local woman. One Australian acquaintance explained things to me like this: “Don’t worry about it young chap, they get whiter and whiter the longer you stay here!” I think he thought to himself where to hell I came from.

You, I’m sure, can imagine the stupid way I sought to direct and control the labourers on the plantation – for my troubles I was somewhat sorted out by four of them, and severely bashed up – something I well deserved, but unfortunately they were sent to prison for it.

I must say I did improve after this, and two years travelling around the world did wonders for me! But PNG still beckoned, and I did a stint working on plantations near Rabaul and Madang.

After this I was very fortunate to meet Dr Jan J. Saave, who was head of the Malaria Control Service with the Department of Public Health. Jan was a legend, in his own time, and reams could be written about him. He saw something in me and employed and posted me to the East Sepik District, where I more or less stayed for the rest of my time in PNG.

Probably where I really came into my own was after my posting to Angoram. It was there that I meet and worked with the river people – the Keram and Grass Country people.

In Angoram the expats developed a certain affinity with the local people. The women of Kambaramba Village were often more than welcoming to the single white males there – images of enchanting black bodies still linger in my subconscious. At this stage I didn’t just have to wait for wet dreams!

I do still return to the Sepik, usually each year. It saddens me to see the breakdown of government services in the country. But the old people remain the same, and are still very dear to me.

Guy Burgess, by all accounts, in spite of his supposed treason remained an Englishman at heart. David Wall, in spite of many misdeeds, and some good deeds, remains forever a PNG expat with a love of the country and its people.

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How wise the Bard was!

September 14, 2013 at 5:57 am (Commentary)

What three things does drink especially provoke?

Marry, sir, nose-painting,7 sleep, and
urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes;
it provokes the desire, but it takes
away the performance:

From Mabeth: Act 2, Scene 3

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