PLAYING FOOTY WITH SAM BASIL IN GARAINA

 

Beautiful Garaina Valley where Sam and Lofty last played football. Picture by BIG PAT.

LOFTY’S TWO GOALS TO REMEMBER

 

By BIG PAT

It is often the simple pleasures of life you enjoy in the company of giants that you remember most.

In Morobe, football is king and the gladiators, they come in all shapes and sizes. But one mistake and they can gobble you up, as Lofty found out many years ago in the company of the man we now mourn – Sam Basil.

Many green mountains ago, when Lofty was not so young and brittle, and my skinny legs could still obey my side step, Bulolo MP Sam Basil took me for a joyride to Garaina.

It was 2009. Lofty was enjoying the green food of the garden city of rainy Lae when Big Sam rolled in with a bagful of ‘krusako’ the leafy green favourite of Mumeng, Bulolo that makes your soup go yummy and your tummy go mama mia mummy.

He said, ‘Lofty after you chew this with your ‘marafri’ Markham banana tonight, pack your bags, we will be away in tea leaf country’.

We flew in by NCA. Garaina, famous for its tea, is in one of Morobe's most beautiful valleys, the Waria Valley. My eyes were fabuloso wide as Lofty starred at the horizon. I first heard of Garaina when my father brought home a big box of tea some 40 years earlier.

The simple lettering on the box read Garaina Tea. Little Lofty thought the Mekeos in Bereina were turning their ‘fere koko’ into tea until my sister slapped me silly and said tea came from Garaina, that is in Morobe, just over the mountain there, pointing at Paga Hill.

I was deeply impressed with her knowledge of geography and even more depressed that behind Paga was a big ocean and a small island!

In 2009, Basil was a first term MP. From Garaina, he told me he had received only 9 votes in the 2007 NGE. But 9 or 900 votes, the number did not matter. The people who did not vote for him were still in Bulolo District. He was their MP. And they were still his people.

Our trip back then was to launch the VSAT communication systems in Garaina. It was installed by Telikom engineers including local boy Henry Esara. Lofty remembered the trip for several reasons, first our pilot for the trip was the late Thomas Keindip, who became a good friend; it was my first ever visit to a place whose product I had sipped and drank from childhood and thoroughly enjoyed; and it was also my first time to hop unwillingly, on a one propeller balus, ‘mona bikpela gari kisim mi na mi guria olsem lip saksak blo Miaru River’.

And lastly, as innocuous as it may seem, my football adventures in tea country Garaina was to procure a valuable experience. And what a lesson it was as you shall find out.

This footy match in Garaina was another test of my sago mettle as a lofty goal keeper. One thing Lofty learnt and still keep in my heart is that ‘meri’ Morobes are softly as ‘mafu’ and sweet all over the place like ‘krusako’ but when it comes to football, they can hard yakka boot you off the park like wild taro – ouch!

In Morobe soccer has the same status as ‘kande kulung’ – the Garaina tea and Ramu sugar party. The party must go on and goals must be scored whichever way, wadeva is lareva, anything is gageva, asa sumbac, who says no!

And so, captain Keindip flopped in at Garaina and we rolled off with the cargo. As the program was to start the next day, Sam decided we should show our football skills among the next generation of tea growers.

In his Buang ‘ari’ wisdom, Sam decided he would captain the Bulolo admin team against the Garaina village team. One look at me and he said I would look handsome leading the village team from the back. Namel stret lo goal post!

He announced to the Garax hanua team: ‘em yah, longpla kerema brata blo mi, yupla lukautim em’.

Lofty sensed this was courting double trouble. Even my trusted sidekick Pisai Sarufa Gumar deserted me that humid afternoon. Shivers.

Lofty looked at his new friends. I was very confused. They looked me up and down. They were even more confused. Sam had dumped me in a team that had about 6 lovely tough Garaina girls! No play up Lofty.

The PNG National Parliament won't be the same again without the towering presence of late Sam Basil. A straight shooter and anti-corruption advocate, Basil was feared for his no-nonsense approach in the people's house.

Mona ya, last time Lofty played in a team against six girls, I got 2 kiaus. Shalauoooo ara leatiro.

The girls shouted, 'hey longpla, yu save lo kik tu ah?' I looked at the closest one and winked. She knew Lofty was lying, unsure of my footwork, uneasy about my wobbly legs, Lofty still managed a smile.

Lofty began his slow walk to his three solid friends, two rusty but trusty goalposts and an equally woody halfhearted crossbar. They were weather beaten but solid. Four of us would make a good defence but we had no mosquito net behind us.

The shrill whistle signaled the Garaina Tea Cup proceedings. The sweet ‘mori’ next to me whispered, ‘nau nait bai mi kisim laif blo you sapos yu no play gud,’ shivers . . leg han blo lofty guria!

Lofty went ‘mafu’ in the legs and stiff in the middle stump adding the fifth goal post to the game, albeit pointed in the wrong direction. The lalokau kekeni smiled. Her ‘mafu’ trick had worked.

Soon Sam Basil was leading the attack. SB mangi buang bai pukpuk kaikai yu . . lofty thought to himself but before I could even spring to the left, Sam smile tasol and rolled a lefty to the right. Score 1-0. Karanas lewa . . big problem, wara Kumalu flow!

It was a very tough game and we were just warming up. The sun was also setting behind Mt Minarua.

But even shadows don’t stop football games in the Garaina Valley. Its goals that matter and not how much space one take ups with his useless last bet air swing. The village girls needed an equalizer to restore their hurt pride.

And then the inevitable happened. Big Samisoni Pasil, mangi buang, ariooo why yu bagarapim mi! Sko go 2-0.

That was the last straw. The angry Garaina girls shouted ‘rausim goal keeper, rausim trausis blo em’.

Meaforoe, isi tasol, Lofty said goodbye to the goal posts and retired to the kunai grassed side line, afraid that my 'piripou o trausis' might be stolen in the dark.

Shorty fullback stared hard at my departing frame. She took over the goalkeeping duties. I had left her with no cover and my poor performance made me feel ‘kava kava’.

Darkness was descending and finally there was a loud roar at the other end, much to the joy of the local ‘lalokaus’. My heart skipped a lalokau beat on FM Lareva, Garaina station.

Lofty on the phone in Garaina dialling up his lalokau in Bereina.

You know in good old teaspoonful Garaina, the older people actually speak ‘motu’ as their valley is still famously known as the Papuan Waria. But the younger generation don’t enjoy the simple pleasure of conversing in motu. They would rather go kava kava for soccer.

In the valley, you will find a sprinkling of Goilalas who manage to leg it over Mount Minarua and Mount Essie. Most are my wantoks from Guari at the headwaters of the mighty Miaru River.

In the dark, I don’t know if we had crossed Sam’s line. But the final score 2-1 was not a bad induction into Garaina hard yaka footy. Sarufa appeared out of nowhere as we trudged back to the station.

My football account was now leaky with 2 goals against my lousy name, scored by SB himself.

After dinner, we showered our tired bodies and climbed into our beds to rest our weary limbs. Goal keeper must have dozed off but my slumbering mind remained in dreamy fearful suspense of the shorty lalokau fullback.

In the distance a dog barked, my hand reached for the torch and Lofty instead felt a ball!

Bugger! It was too hairy for a goal! mamina oi abia . .

In memory of my trip to Garaina with Sam Basil. Brother, you left me with two goals, I will remember you SB when I think of Garaina.

The old tea factory in Garaina.