The local customs in Papua New Guinea are indeed as fierce as expected. In the airport waiting hall, a mother with three children rushed to the boarding gate just as it was closing. She pleaded with the staff to open it for her convenience. The ground crew, indifferent, closed the gate and left. The mother exploded on the spot, holding her child, chasing after the ground crew, launching a furious attack. The father rushed over, not to intervene, but to take the child with waving fists from the mother, fearing the child might get hurt. The mother chased the ground crew for several minutes, a tense and thrilling scene. A piece of the ground crew’s hair was even torn off. After being stopped by other staff, the ground crew ran away without looking back, leaving a clump of hair on the ground. The mother was still ready to pursue and settle the score, but the father grabbed her back and slapped her to bring her back to her senses.
It seems that force can indeed solve problems in Papua New Guinea. No wonder you rarely see thin people here. Thin people, like the ground crew, are powerless and always end up suffering when away from home.
The airport situation is chaotic. For the flight to the small island, after everyone boarded, we waited for an hour in the scorching cabin without air conditioning, on the verge of heatstroke. Finally, the captain announced that the plane was broken and couldn’t fly. Everyone returned to the waiting hall. The staff gathered everyone and said the flight was rescheduled to depart at 4:50 am the next day. They told us to go home, take our luggage, and come back tomorrow. That’s it, meeting adjourned! After hearing this, I was stunned and shouted, “What about compensation? Accommodation?” The staff gave me a disdainful look. Fortunately, having experienced a beating at the airport at the beginning of the trip, everyone was educated to be obedient. We quickly dispersed.
After being here for a few days, every agreed-upon time and schedule was not kept. On the first day, they were supposed to pick us up at 9 am to go to the Mask Festival, but they arrived at 10 am, claiming a flat tire. We missed more than half of the opening ceremony. The next day, they said we would leave at 6 am to see dolphins, but the boat arrived at 7:30 am, saying they had to send the boss in the morning. We agreed to depart early the next day to visit an outer island, but we waited from 6 am, and the boat arrived at 9 am, causing the cancellation of the diving trip due to the late departure. Getting angry was useless. When we said we wouldn’t cooperate with them anymore, they immediately threatened to deduct 30% of the cost if we canceled. We hadn’t paid the cost yet, and we didn’t know what kind of thunderous means they would use to collect it. Clearly, they breached the contract, but they wanted to charge you for breaking it. No explanation, just a sorry. If you asked again and got no response, it meant, “I’ve already apologized, what else do you want?”
The return flight, without surprise, was canceled again. This story could fill another two pages. Traveling in Papua New Guinea is truly a matter of both money and life.