Papua New Guinea Adventure

Journey in an Unknown Culture

Walking through the maze of narrow alleyways of the Maloro Market, it’s easy to get lost in the sea of smiling, bloody faces. Not literally bloody of course, but from an outsiders perspective it sure looks that way.
Papua New Guineans are notorious for their consumption of Buai, more commonly known as beetle nut. The act of chewing and sucking on this local stimulant gradually turns the gums and teeth vibrant red, which in turn makes for one malicious looking smile. Is this why there are rumors that cannibals still exist in Papua New Guinea? No, those rumors are actually true, but it’s not surprising that the small majority of tourists that travel here believe that the red teeth is residue from last nights dinner.
The market’s pathways, (along with the rest of the city streets) look like Jackson Pollock took his paintbrush and splattered bright colors of crimson on the floor of the country. Spitting buai on the floor is not only tolerated, but also socially acceptable. And no one seems to mind, since the market vendors strategically place their various merchandise on the red, dusty floors of the Port Moresby countryside, while their families sit beside it under the hot sun all day. No chairs or umbrellas needed.
Through the midst of vibrating sounds of bartering, and the large amount of people crammed in the tiny confines of the market boundaries, it’s strange to think about how even though the population of this country is quite large, it’s still the most unexplored inhabited chunk of land on the planet. To call this a strange land is truly an understatement, and with more than 850 tribes still in the country, all with their own languages, it’s easy to see why.
But it’s not the blatant poverty, pungent smells, strange food, or indecipherable languages that made this journey so unique. It’s their reaction to me, an outsider, which is most evident.
The locals gazed upon me as if I was a beautiful white ghost that had transcended through time and space into their world. Most had never seen a young Caucasian female walking their streets alone. Having tribesmen asking for my autograph, or mothers wanting a picture with me was a natural occurrence. One young woman in particular had a deep, intense stare that startled me at first. She was beautiful, and her dark eyes sparkled full of understanding. She was half naked, and had a cluster of sweet potatoes for sale by her dirty feet. And I, with my designer jeans and expensive camera, could do nothing but stare back. I smiled at her, with my sparkling white teeth newly manicured from my recent dentist visit, and she smiled back with that bright red, bloody smile which minutes before had frightened me so much. And in that instant our smiles morphed into portals that displayed our personal worlds to each other. Immediately I understood. We are not so different. We love, we laugh, and if things get strange, just smile.