After almost 3 weeks, 5 different accommodations on 5 different islands, 17 days of diving, lab-rat-quantities of bananas, papayas, pineapple, yams and taro, countless fascinating conversations with many sweet, kind, genuine, and always really interesting people, I am really sad to be leaving Solomon Islands! I’m on a 2-hour, 50-minute flight to another country that no one goes to: Kiribati (pronounced “Keereebahs” the Polynesian pronunciation of “Gilberts” i.e. Gilbert Islands; the first one of “rarely visited places” on this trip was Tuvalu which, curiously, used to be part of Kiribati).

Just before boarding, I spent my last Solomon dollars on overpriced coffee, and before that slid through the most pain-free security check. And just before that, I devoured a super yummy motu-backed potato and boiled banana – a staple meal/snack on the Solomons, so healthy yet sold at a road-side stand. The motu was built on the stand surface (corrugated iron and hot rocks).

Oh yea, it is Christmas. The hotel where I was staying had 2 lovely singers nailing Mariah xmas tunes with voices that even Ms. Carey would envy. Is that how you spell her last name?

I spent 24 hours in Honiara, the Solomons’ capital. The “city” consists of 2 streets: the main mega-crowded and loud one and the sparcely frequented quiet one. The main one is lined for miles with Chinese shops selling anything you may imagine with piles of garbage and continuous rows of betel-nut sellers. The quiet one features government offices in spacious well-landscaped yards, a museum and the once-most-snazzy hotel. The latter has been out-snazzied in the recent years by 3 modern (I would guess Aussie-owned) waterfront hotels. I stayed in one of those for $119 a night. I figured I’d splurge for the holy night. I was a good tourist this morning and visited all that can be visited on a major holiday and in Honiara: an artisan market (my new shell earrings are dope!) and the port where the outter-island-bound (super ancient and paint-lacking) barges were getting loaded with goods and people. One boat in particular had the passenger deck shaded with bed sheets (yes, there were at least 3 sheets to the wind) and the main deck cluttered with sacks of detergent, cement, dog food, SolRais, taro, flour, as well as cloth-covered buckets, I presume, full of homemade food items. Presents to relatives living somewhere around the boat’s destination?

Last night, I wanted to hear some beautiful Solomon singing that I have been hearing while traveling through the Western Province. Alas, the Catholics are minimal on singing but maximal on brainwashing. The arch diesis had an Irish-accented and pasty looking archbishop talk about a little poor Irish boy James who regifted the only present he had received for christmas – a small red truck – to the miniature of the baby Jesus in a nativity scene. We heard “small red truck” about 17 times during his liturgy. Do Irish folks not say “lorry”?

The cathedral was a giant roof supported with columns and no walls. it was illuminated by big Communist-style neon lights. The wall to the right of the pulpit served as a cheat sheet with the psalm lyrics projected from behind the 1,000 or so parishioners in attendance… I gotta say, 1,000 people singing Alleluja in unison is pretty incredible, red truck or no red truck.

I flew from Seghe to Honaira yesterday morning and was the only passenger aboard. The pilot and copilot in the cockpit and me hanging out in the back watching the million islands glide by… I had finished my last dive the previous afternoon at 3:30pm so I was a tiny bit nervous about potential bends. The ancient puddle jumper was not pressurized and we def did not go up more than 5,000 feet. And I did have good 18 hours to off gas… And I am fine so yay!

The Hitler Plus found a way to charge me extra 200 Aussie dollars as “cancelation fee” (apparently they have a 4 or 5 day minimum stay; the husband and wife couldn’t agree which). Anywho, I guess I paid the asshole tax and was happy to be out of there.

Did I ever mention that my flight to Honiara from Nadi, Fiji was full of 7-Day Adventist kids going to Honiara for the “Pacific Campery” – a multi-week camp akin to scout camps in the States. But with a religious slant. When I was in Marovo Lagoon, the Solomons’ bastion of 7-Day Adventism, one of the ladies and a couple of kids from the family were in Honiara at the Campery. And now, my flight is full of Tarawa 7-Day Adventist children going home. 

OK, I need to put the computer away and stare through the window. Byezee!