Due to a "native uprising," the US State Department listed Port Morsbey and all of Papua New Guinea on it's list of dangerous places to avoid. Because of this, many liveaboard dive boats in the area were having a hard time convincing people to come to Papua New Guinea for vacation. But as usual, the O'Neil family was game for going diving no matter what the situation. So my mom, dad, sister, brother in law and myself ended up as the only guests on a 120 foot liveaboard dive boat with the single exception of a British ex-pat. We all felt a bit sorry for this very posh British lady who had moved to Singapore with her maid many years ago and was now stuck with a family of Alabama "rednecks" on this boat in PNG. The boat staff asks for any dietary requirements well in advance of your trip so that they can try to have all possible requests imported from Australia. Our family compiled our list into one sentence, we all enjoy that most southern staple, Coca Cola and would be so happy if there was some coke and diet coke on board. Our British friend had a 2 page list of flax seeds, wheat germs and special vitamins that she needed to maintain her healthy lifestyle. Imagine her complete gaul at the breakfast table on the first day of the trip when she saw my mother cut the fat off her bacon and give it to my dad to eat! He of course devoured it and washed it down with an ice cold coke. Luckily, our new friend had a great sense of humor and though shocked, she began passing her bacon fat to my dad as well. I think she was more in awe of the Alabama cultural experience she was receiving on the boat than the New Guinea experience outside the boat. She asked so many questions and gamely began using "y'alls and mams." About half way through the trip we stopped near Walindi Plantation and were offered an excursion through the palm plantation to a natural volcanic hot spring. Excited by this, we all got off the boat and walked over to the 2 door pickup truck that was to take us up the hillside to the hot spring. Without a word from our driver or between any of my family, the Southerners all climbed in the back of the truck. My dad and brother in law being gentlemen had of course left the area over the wheel well for us ladies so we wouldn't bounce quite as much. Our posh friend was standing beside the truck with her mouth open. "Surely you don't plan to ride back there?" she says. We all looked at each other wondering where else 6 people are going to fit in a 2 seater (ok maybe 3 seater if we are talking Alabama standards) pick up truck. We tried to explain to her that the bumpy ride would probably be much better in the back but she was welcome to the inside seat if she preferred. Immediately relieved she climbed in the cab where she was rattled and rolled in that old truck with it's very worn shocks. After one week on the boat and one very rough pick up ride, we finally won her over. On the way back from the hot spring, she road in the back of that truck like a true all american redneck. You just don't realize how different you are culturally until someone stares at you like you've lost your mind for doing something that comes very naturally to you. A few years later, I received an email from our British friend after Hurricane Katrina. She wanted to know if her Alabama friends had come through the storm unhurt and was it true that so many people where I lived had guns like she had seen in the news coverage of the hurricane's aftermath. I didn't have the heart to tell her yes, she's probably still having nightmares about riding in the back of trucks and eating bacon fat, why add to her list of worries.
