1975

Port Moresby. My father had left a year earlier for contract work as a refrigeration/air condition mechanic at Papua New Guineas capital city. I remember holding onto to him so tight at the airport, the feeling of dread, not knowing when I'd see him again. Someone took a photo of us, my arms around him, his arm around my shoulders looking down at me. I had my eyes closed I didn't want him to see how hard this was for me as I knew that it would be harder for him, leaving his family off to an unknown place all alone. But to this day, I can still remember how I felt.

So, 1975, after he had settled down, he sent for us, I don't know why but for some reason he couldn't bring all of us over at the same time. Mom, Nona and Noel went first, Nancy and I were left for what seemed like forever, then we followed. I remember being scared on the flight, but I was also extremely excited. Not only were we travelling on our own, but our flight also had a stopover in Hong Kong, our very first plane ride. The stewardess were so nice, they looked after us, the captain even asked us to go visit the cockpit. Needless to say we were totally entertained, not wanting the flight to end, by the time we landed Nancy and I were convinced we were going to be a stewardess, travelling the world.

I don't remember the family reunion very well, I can only assume that we were happy to be together again. What I do remember was seeing a New Guinean for the first time. They looked fierce, scary. But as long as I had my family by my side I knew I was safe. Oh, then there was the very first time I opened the fridge! It was chucka block full of lollies, candies, and ooooooohhh chocolates. Sneakers, Mars Bars, M&Ms, Chokitos, you name it we had it. I look back now and realise that my parents did the very best they could for their family. Sacrificed a lot just so we could be given the chance at a better life. I was 10 years old and knew that our move to Port Moresby is a start to a great family adventure.