Sunday 27th Feb

I dragged myself out of bed 5.30am for the flight to Santa Isabel Island and eventually, via a two hour boat ride, to Kia, my soon-to-be home base. Even before the sun came up I was sweating in the humid warmth. After helping some guys push their truck out of a boggy puddle on the driveway and picking up another volunteer on the way, we arrived at the airport to find the flight cancelled. Iu on ailen taim nao wait boi.

Having no pressing matters to attend to (as seems to be a common issue for many Solomon Islanders) I decided to mount a mission to a ship wreck about 15kms down the road for some snorkelling. So I set out with a vague idea of where I was going and whole day to work with. Lucky for me the locals seem just to enjoy helping people out and after a few mish-mash conversations of English and Solomon Pijin a couple of young guys took me to a bus stop and told me which one to catch.

The bus took me just beyond the edge of town, so with no shortage of time I walked... and ran, and walked, and ran, and sweated, and bought a coconut from some old ladies on the road-side. They reckoned I had about 6kms to go – a long way in the tropical sun – but “no wari,” a couple of the boys were going that way and they’d drop me off. So I jumped in the car with a couple of 14 year old lads and a 4 year old little bro and hooned off in uncles taxi trailing a cloud of black smoke behind us. They waved to all the kids we passed on the road-side, all of whom howled with laughter – apparently I was a rare novelty.

I gave them some chocolate bars as thanks when they dropped me off and they were hapi tumas for mitim mi. After that it seemed unusual to pay SI$10 to walk out onto the beach full of overweight, sun-burnt Aussies, none of whom said hi or even offered to sell me a coconut. But to their credit, when I asked nicely, they allowed me to sit on the back of their truck for a ride back to Honiara afterwards – a triple score as I didn’t have to walk, stayed cool, and didn’t have listen to their bad accents. Cheers Aussies, you’re alright ay.

Later on (mid afternoon) the priest who runs the Chester Rest Haus where I’m staying, invited me to the local pub. Apparently I was the second white guy to ever go there and the boys were stoked to have me. They celebrated by attempting to get me drunk and beating me respectfully at pool. Luckily for me, my extra-curricular education at Otago University has provided me with some necessary training in these areas so I got out unscathed. Unfortunately however, Otago Uni failed to prepare my stomach for the curry roll that I ate for tea afterwards and which had me up all night. Nonetheless, I can’t help thinking at the end of this long day, I’m stoked to be over here helping such cool people.