the siren

I heard a siren this morning - first time I had heard one in PNG. It went for two seconds - enough to alert me to a noise I hadn't heard in this context. On the way to work too I saw this young mother and her friend walk her liklik pikinini son about 4 years old across the road whereupon he had to walk across the oval to his play school. He was the smartest dressed kid - long socks up to his shins, nice shoes, tucked in shirt neatly done, lovely brushed curly hair, bilum over his shoulder, but not yet even a metre tall. At four years, how different he looked to the grunge I have come to expect in the west. Even the older kids who go to school bare foot look impressive with neatly brushed hair and tucked in shirts. Bikpela rain last night was the heaviest at my house for some time although the storms have been just next door. This time it got to my place. They have been having severe rain up in the mountains, enough to displace people from homes and cause road disasters.
Thinking yesterday about the authority here. In spite of the korupsen, there is still respect for the institutions which is different from home. Church, Politics, Business, any sort of authority there has used up its store of goodwill and people are cynical to the point they lack respect for authority. As I said asde, here an elder speaks and people listen and act.