#53 - Random Weekend

#53 – a weekend of randomness

I love the weekend like most everybody else, but when the prospect of another 48 hours on call hovers you feel a little trapped.  The boss told me that he’d take me fishing on the weekend, and I was looking forward to that, and crayfish spearing under spotlight on the reef, but when he didn’t get off the Friday afternoon plane, I was a little let down.  Saturday morning came, the Saturday morning plane came and went, no boss!  Saturday afternoon plane came and went, no boss.

It was an interesting Saturday, with a pot pourri of presentations, some mundane things, coughs, colds, sore this and sore that.  Then a little island princess came in aged 6.  While fishing with her Bala (brother), she had sustained a fish hook through her finger.  This sucker was in prapa deep.  After performing a ring (digital) block with lignocaine, I used a needle holder to get a good grip of the hook, and pushed it all the way through the finger so it broke through the other side.  Once through, it was a simple matter of using wire cutters to snip the barb off the hook, and retract it back the way it went in.  Praise God for lignocaine anaesthetic.  My knees were jelly while I was doing all this, but this little darling felt nothing.  I was really proud of myself.  I  reviewed her this morning (Sunday) and there is no signs of infection or any pain.  I am mentally High fiving myself.

After this adventure I decided to walk around to some secluded beaches.  On one of the beaches, there were fresh turtle tracks in the sand.  They lead up the beach to a resting spot, no doubt a nest of eggs; and then another set of tracks coming back to the water.  I stayed tight lipped about it, because I know that Turtle eggs are a delicacy, and had anyone known that the nest was there, then there would be a race to the bounty.

Sunday morning started like every other on the islands.  Clear blue day. There were recalls of Saturday’s patients, and a church service.  Now I have blogged on the church services here before, but this morning’s service was different.  During the week, for confidential medical reasons, I cant discuss here, I got to know the pastor of the AOG church on Yam Island.  He is a straight shooter, who preaches the gospel with power from the pulpit.  He delivers the service in creole, which at a slow pace, is ok, but when he gets his blood pressure up and starts going for it; I feel like I am in another country with a language I don’t speak.  It is just so fast.  I have been in churches where people pray in tongues before, but at times there today, I wasn’t sure if it was broken English that I was hearing or prayer in tongues!!  Im all goosebumpy now writing about it.  As usual the music was awesome, loud, colourful and spine tinglingly catchy.

Then Brother Harold stood up to do announcements.  Now I know that in many churches, the parishioners are referred to as brothers and sisters in Christ, but in the islands this is taken to the extreme, and bala, or sissy is the term used, and is a prefix to your name.

So Harold gets up and introduces the children from Sunday school for a musical item.  After some disorganized shuffling, the children sing “Jesus loves me, This I know”.

There is clapping, wailing and whistling, and the kids sit down.  Harold gets up and says “ Now we ‘av another item from some of the Balas. “  he calls out four blokes names, and looks straight at me and calls BalaRob.   All the men who were called, make their way to the front of the church, make a line across the stage, feeling very self conscious, and oh so white, I line up with the blokes.  Wonder what the heck is going on?  I thought.  Then as the thought passes, music starts.  It is an up tempo Negro-spiritual that I am vaguely familiar with, yet, I neither know the words or the tune well. The other 4 blokes start clapping to the beat, Im there with them.  Then they start singing!!  Not in English, but KLY the old language which doesn’t resemble English!  I am feel very uncomfortable now.  I keep clapping with the boys.  To my horror, the 4 men now start actions, which resemble island dancing!!!  I don’t do dancing!!  I am standing in a 5 man line up neither singing nor dancing, with a dumb look on my face clapping like a halfwit.

Have you ever seen a group of kids on stage, doing a song or dance routine, which requires coordination?  There is always that one kid that isn’t singing, or doing the wrong words, or isn’t dancing in time.  They turn left, the kid turns right….You know that Kid.   Well today in front of a congregation enthusiastically singing a gospel song in a language I don’t understand, I was that Kid!.

If ever I have prayed for the rapture, it was right then!  In 2 painful minutes, the song was over, and I could crawl back to my seat.  I realize that when I get in front of my class room, or my Toastmasters friends, or even my own church, I have prepared, and know what I am doing there.  Today, nope, I was way out of my comfort zone.

The afternoon was much more productive.  I went fishing with a local lad who showed me how to catch bait fish by foul hooking them, then catch dinner by using the still live bait fish to catch the big white fish under the jetty.  Trevally, and Queenfish were on the bite, and in just under 10 minutes I had dinner.  A 700gram Queenie.  Yummo, lime, chilli and ginger marinade, fish, on a bed of coconut brown rice.  It doesn’t get better than that!

I have 5 more sleeps left on Yam.  I do hope that the boss arrives home from Thursday Island tomorrow, but that is anyone’s guess.  I am in wind down mode.  I am ready for my holiday back home, and with my family.  It has been a hard two weeks away from them this trip, but the light is at the end of the tunnel, and I cant wait to bring them up to share this island paradise. 

In just 6 days, this dream will finish and a new one will begin!