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A Store Shelf in Tuvalu. Envy of the lesser Pacific Nations.

Due to some unexpected difficulties, we’re still on Tuvalu. We haven’t been able to secure the fuel for the Catalina as anticipated as the stuff we had to sell, (the complete Shakespeare, Tristram Shandy’s “Life and Times”, our entire repertoire of Charles Trenet 78 rpm LP’s and a signed copy of the late Minister for Armaments Christopher Pyne’s autobiography) failed to illicit much interest from our Chinese friends. In some frustration we are hoping, (in consultation with our friends from the Property Council) we can sign a release form granting them first option on Phillip Island as a staging point for the Belt and Road initiative. Chinese surgeons were on hand to speed the negotiations, scalpel in hand “two kidney’s or one?” they asked, and thankfully Clarrie sacrificed a few non-vital organs as surety.  We may have erred on the side of caution, but a lifetime entry to the Penguin parade, and koala enclosure is prized amongst senior party officials intent upon advancement. After the formalities we gave a splendid rendition  of ‘Advance Australia Fair’ till we realised none of us knew anything beyond the first verse.  

We have also been promised the fuel will be  forthcoming if we approve in writing as “accredited journalists”  a repudiation of Hong Kong Citizens rights, and an acceptance that Taiwan is forever China. We looked on our Jacaranda Schoolboys Atlas, and couldn’t find the bloody country. So figured it wasn’t worth worrying overly much about. And besides, in this part of the world, countries all look the same. 

TWO LEADERS. Both Revered in TUVALU as GODS!!!

If ONLY, they could be more like US and show some gratitude for the money we dole out to them.

Still,  it’s been an excellent opportunity to get to know Tuvalu. And the more we  wandered the one main street we concurred it was quite right for Scott Morrison as the elected head of Australia to ignore their plea for climate relief. The fact is, when we went to the only supermarket, a tin shed and awning between two coconut palm trees, we were greeted with a cruel reality. The shelves were half empty, we asked then why? And they said , that the only thing they stocked was tin fruit. Apparently, and this’ll surprise you, is that the locals after they’ve finished picking fruit, send case-loads of tin fruit back to their homeland as a kind of payment. Its an admission they’re not the full bottle on money management. And that the Australian Government kindly pays them in tinned fruit rather than the Basics Card, cos they’re not REAL Australians. Fruit is currency in these parts. Cec joked “jeez, they’re a banana short of the monkey”, and then we pissed ourselves the way we used to when “Goodsey” was on the field. 

It symbolised  the important role Australia plays in keeping their economy, (whatever laughingly passes for an economy) going. You see all the working people are picking fruit in Queensland and along the Riverina. There’s hardly anyone left but a few old buggers and some kids who haven’t learnt to piss off yet. 

COCK BRAND!… Very popular for worshippers of dieties, and frontbench VISIONARIES!

We had to paint this Queensland Sheila a deeper shade of Guava so she’d appeal to their local customs.

That’s what Scomo demonstrated leadership on. And Mr McCormack, the leader of the Country Party, (they still refer to it as such) is a bit of a hero. Sort of a cargo cult status figure. At the souvenir shop they sell effigies of Mr McCormack, whom they refer to as the “Big Mac’*, and when we enquired further, they produced Barnaby Joyce effigies made from Australian sun-dried tomatoes. They explained in Pigin, that they thought he may come back, and like the Yanks during the war they’d be showered with cargo. They believe in cargo, and they said in Pigin, ‘like Australia they just dug up stuff, produce nothing,  and hoped to be rained upon with advice from Real Estate Agents, white goods and stuff from Bunnings’. They had great hope in being airlifted en- masse by the Australian government. They said the last time Australia was interested in them was when they kicked the Japs out, and when they airlifted them from a nearby atoll when they detonated atom bombs for their own good. They quite liked the aeroplane ride, (being primitive people) and their faces beamed with anticipation when we told them we used our native people in atomic testing also. “It annointed them (as flora and Fauna) with the benign hand of Civilisation”.. That and religion, to make them shameful of their lonely and isolated position.  A bit like global warming and sea level rising is a consequence of their laziness, their intransigence and their deserved allotment as  acknowledgement from an all consuming loving GOD! Who for all intents and purposes probably looks a bit like Barnaby. 

The Chinese Airfield looks a lot like the old HMAS Melbourne. it’s even got a “bow-hole” like the one the Voyager made. Uncanny!!

Still, we had to move out of the Catalina yesterday. The pier we’ve tied it to is under water.  Found some high ground, the Australian High Commissioners tent, which is almost underwater.  The kind Chinese men are building an international aerodrome for the natives which looks a little like an Aircraft carrier. They explained that all modern airfields look like aircraft carriers.  So that they (the natives) can watch people arrive and be connected to the world outside. It’s touching to see nations pulling together to make simple peoples lives more enriched. Like the nice men form Rio Tinto who arrived the year before, in search of precious minerals.  There were none, just useless sand and coral, and they left for East Timor, where the Australian Government has set up a level playing field for business. That’s the benefit of being in a global economy, reciprocity and respect. And as we laughed: ‘a decent pair of gumboots would also help”. 

• Not to be confused with “Big Mack’ ( Frank Macmanus former leader of the DLP)  who’s spiritual presence still guides  the Coalition. 
  

  Scott Morrison’s “Hello Colin moment”