Walking The Tender Minefield – Quiz Night

Posted in CWA, Mixed Nuts on November 29th, 2010 by MadDog
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After my last post, all cheery and grateful, I’m ahead far enough on happy credits to grow all sombre and introspective again. Today I took delivery of a lonely, stormy Sunday. Last night I attended the annual Country Women’s Association Quiz night, a sort of mega-Trivial Pursuit distraction which provides the folk of Madang with an evening of aimless and good natured competition.

Since this is going to be yet another soul-searching ramble through the back alleys of my cranium, let me first demonstrate that I am not in a bad mood at all. These are among the finest bananas I have ever had the pleasure of smushing up in my still toothy gob. Somebody brought them up to the beach at Blueblood a couple of weeks ago. I must have eaten about six of them. As you can see they are rather small. They are incredibly sweet and the flavour is slightly reminiscent of green apples:

See, that’s a happy thing. You may find little flakes of freeze-dried happiness elsewhere on this page. Let’s see what happens. I’m winging it.

As I plan to intersperse scenes from last night’s frivolities here and there as I plod along, I may as well get started. This is our intrepid QuizMaster, Shane McCarthy overseeing the presentation of the craft projects. Each table of six participants was required, on pain of merciless ridicule, to create an object d’art  from the miscellaneous contents of a cardboard box. Imaginations ran rampant on the theme of “Christmas Carol”:

Once again I found myself facing a dilemma, the magnitude of which might seem trivial when seen from some remote location outside my skull. Over and over again, because of my life situation, smack dab in the middle of everything which meant anything to us,  I have to decide if I’m going to do this or that and wonder what my reaction is going to be. The problem is that there is no more us.   There is just me.  The range of effects which I have experienced has fallen between the extremes of euphoria and despair. I honestly don’t know beforehand what is going to happen. I’m just along for the ride.

This is a tender minefield. While that expression may seem oxymoronic, it is not. All that is happening here is that my community is allowing me the freedom to find a new normality. People are treating me as if everything is business as usual. This is exactly what they ought to do. From their perspective everything is  business as usual. The minefield is of my own device.

I had waited for an invitation to a table at Quiz Night until I felt that I had to take some active part in my life once more. Two days before the event I called two friends asking, in a not-so-transparent manner, if they had a table and if it was filled. Later that day, I did receive an invitation, after I mentioned it, from another friend. So, committed as I am to allowing life to carry me where it will with as little interference from me as is prudent, I accepted with a mixture of gratitude and foreboding. I’m such a drama queen. Everything has to be a big production. Nothing is easy. Truthfully, I blame my mother, but don’t tell her.

It is  a minefield, but it bears me no malice. It is simply there, inert until provoked. If I stay in place, I won’t get anywhere. I’ll stand and take root in this miserable existence. I can walk gingerly, experimentally, but I know that the odds are against me. I’ve already stepped on a few and I have big chunks missing here and there. The wounds are painful, but they heal rapidly, some more rapidly than others.

There is fun aplenty at every Quiz Night. Ridiculous, giggly fun. Here three teams compete to determine which can most rapidly expend an entire roll of toilet paper by wrapping a team-mate in it:

Following the analogy of the minefield, I’ll tell you a true story (really) about a related metaphor, The Point of No Return.

When you note that you have reached the geometrical centre of the minefield and you count your injuries, it dawns on you that you are only half-way home. Injury-wise it might make more sense to retrace your steps and return to GO, not collecting $200. Yet that way lies the madness of arriving back at the beginning and realising that the only reasonably safe option is to once again retrace your footsteps back to the point at which you turned around and proceed from there. You needn’t have wasted the energy. Rational decisions at this point are extremely difficult to reach.

Late one Sunday afternoon in the early ’70s, I roared away from Chicago Midway Airport in a US Army UH-1 “Huey” helicopter with my crew of four en-route to Decatur Illinois, our home airfield. It was a late departure and each of us had a severe case of “get-home-itis”; families and jobs awaited us. I was Pilot in Command, as sorry a situation as you could want. I was neither much of a pilot nor much of a commander. Deeming that we had sufficient fuel, we lifted off post-haste.

Shortly after passing Kankakee, we could see a massive line of thunderstorms ahead of us. This is my no means unusual for a summer evening in Illinois and it seemed that there were plenty of non-flashing holes through which we could safely pass. We fluttered on, listening to AM radio rock-n-roll through our helmet speakers. After a while it was becoming more and more obvious that we were going to be doing some ducking and weaving. I tapped my finger on the fuel gauge. My co-pilot nodded and frowned. I considered a hop back to Kankakee and a miserable night with a grumbling crew in a motel and rejected it.

We dodged thunderheads visible only by their fireworks and suffered some moderate turbulence which reminded us how long it had been since lunch – just long enough. Nobody wants to barf into his helmet bag. With all of that dodging and searching for holes, I could see that fuel was going to be a teensy-weensy problem. The chatter on the intercom went significantly silent. Everybody knew that we had just passed the Point of No Return. I was wondering precisely how many Army Regs and Flight Rules I had already busted. I was about to bust a few more.

Well, I see that it’s time to shorten this long story. We passed safely, if unsteadily through the flashy Texas Line Dance of cumulonimbus incus aircraft washers and into the still, star-studded air of central Illinois. We were about twenty-five minutes from Decatur when the Twenty Minute Fuel Warning light began excitedly to advertise its presence. Uh-oh. As pilots are wont to put it rather indelicately, the pucker factor increased by an order of magnitude.

Let me take a break from that breathless and somewhat pointless reminiscence to show you our creation: (and then I’ll try to explain the inexplicable)

I sincerely hope that you can see that it is a manger scene, complete with a tiny, fuzzy Baby Jesus. I contributed, somewhat distractedly, the snowflake and the exclamatory Moo from the spotted cow.

So, was there any point at all to the helicopter story? Probably not. But, if I had to guess, I guess it would be that we are sometimes so distracted by what we so desperately want that we are unable to recognise what we so desperately need. Now, connecting this somewhat tenuously back to the minefield thing, a few of those mines might capriciously explode into bouquets of roses, unlikely as that might seem. Others will blow a leg off. Some might be duds. The problem is that I must  keep moving and the only way I know the intent of a mine is to step on it. You know, my situation is not a bit different from yours, now that I think of it. Humpf! And I thought I was special.

Some things which I fervently desire now are not yet available to me. Someday some of them might be. Time will tell. Time will also tell whether they were things which I actually needed. Other things, things which I do not currently yearn for, may turn out to be the things which I need. It would have been such a senseless tragedy if I had killed my crew and myself in a flame-out crash because I did not want to spend a night in a motel in Kankakee. That is what I needed.  I realised that most certainly when that warning light came on.

I’m striving quite earnestly to keep my eyes peeled for the warning lights. Right now, I know that I can’t trust my desires to be in my best interest. Though some, with that fearful symmetry, burn as bright as William Blake’s tiger in the forest, I can never forget the minefield. It is not just a figure of speech. I must move forward. Carefully.

So, with that hopeful thought, I will give you a happy, pretty face. No, not mine. Though I have now made myself happier than I was a couple of hours ago I am still no prettier. Writing does that for me.

This is the lovely smiling face of Michaela of Vienna, who rescued me from an evening of solitary regret:

Saved again by a sensible and loving friend.

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CWA Melbourne Cup Day – A Party For Eunie

Posted in Mixed Nuts on November 3rd, 2010 by MadDog
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Yesterday was Melbourne Cup Day. If you are not an Australian or you don’t hang around with Australians, then that might not mean much to you. Let me tell you that it is a very big deal here. The Country Women’s Association of Madang threw a lovely shindig yesterday –  the Eunice Messersmith Melbourne Cup Day Party. It made me very happy to attend.

Our local Wonder Woman who goes by the alias of Maureen Hill assisted the ladies of the staff of the CWA Cottage who, along with other members, organised a terrific lunch and provided a delicious fruit punch and a well-stocked bar, an obligatory facility for Melbourne Cup Day.

Maureen sported a stunning chapeau featuring my favourite orange lilies:

Sometimes I think that Melbourne Cup celebrations are more about hats and less about horse racing, though the race was quite exciting and ended with a nice surprise for me.

Lady Anna had come in from Kar Kar Island  with Sir John. I hope that I’m not mistaken, but I believe that Lady Anna won the Best Dressed prize:

All of the ladies were decked out in their finest.

I wore an old but respectable silk shirt and tropical white trousers. I have one pair of black leather shoes which have not succumbed to jungle rot. I wore them with an ancient pair of black socks with only a few holes, none of which showed. I love to tell uppity youngsters that I have underwear which is older than they are. It’s true!

Not to be outdone, Trevor represented the men of CWA (we are both dues-paying members) with this smart number which he picked up in a used clothing store in London:

The betting tickets make snappy accessories.

I can’t say that I’m particularly proud of the pictures. I was shooting for fun, not technique. I ran them all through a noise and softening filter to get the look I wanted. They are just a bunch of shots of people having fun. I always loved to go to the CWA Melbourne Cup Party with Eunie. She enjoyed it so much and I simply enjoyed soaking up that feeling which I got from being with her when she was having fun.

The ladies did seem to enjoy the attention of my camera. Here is Maggie in her very fine leopard spotted cap:

Maggie’s daughter, Annie, was a stunner in this outfit:

And Leanne showed her lovely smile for the lens:

The name of the horse which won the race as Americain. I found this intensely amusing. As the winners were delivered their spoils, I stood and asked why anyone, having thought about it, would not  have bet on that horse. The connection between the party for Eunie, one of the few Americans in Madang, and the fortuitous name of the horse should have been obvious. Americain paid about twelve to one. Too bad that I forgot to bet.

Here Karen shows off something which might be called a hat, I suppose:

Whatever it is, I like it.

This is Helen. I like this unpretentious headgear. It claims to be a hat and nothing more. Sometimes less is  more:

It’s a good look for Madang.

Heather was not in a mood for complex metaphors. This hat shouts Melbourne Cup Day!

I wonder where she found those little horses.

CWA was one of Eunie’s passions. It is one of the more remarkable organisations in Madang. I can’t think of another wholly local operation which does so much good with so little. The cottage makes a nice income as do the social functions. All of the income in excess of expenses is spent in support of local needs such as the Children’s Nutirion Ward of the hospital and Kindergarden Long Ples (pre-school programs at the village level) among many others.

Every time I think of CWA I have happy moments. I had some very happy moments yesterday.

Thank you, ladies.

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Ancient Art Show Material Discovered

Posted in Mixed Nuts, Photography Tricks on March 26th, 2010 by MadDog
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Regular readers may note that my mind wanders more towards the end of the week. This is because I dive on Saturdays and I usually have enough pretty pictures beginning on Sunday which I can intersperse with mind numbing jibber-jabber to fill a page. Heaven knows that I seldom have anything important to say. I do, however, strive to say it with some degree of flair, if not true style. Polish is way beyond me. If I could polish prose, I’d be making a living from it. Prose polishing doesn’t run in my genes. I’m more of an assembler. I’ll screw and glue the chair. It’s someone else’s job to polish it.

Which leads me to . . . well, nothing. So, instead, I’ll concentrate on telling you more about me,  my favourite subject. Write what you know about, eh?

Yonks ago, when I was a young feller in my mid-50s the Madang Country Women’s Association up and did themselves an art show. Being a dilettante artist, I decided to try my luck. It was all for charity, you see. That usually means any fool can pretend to be anything he likes and pretty much get away with it.

If you’re a regular here, you’ve seem my so-called art work. It’s pure fakery – the purest kind. I take pretty pictures and grind them up in a computer and it spits out something that, when printed on paper, might fool bumpkins into thinking that the producer has some sort of talent. That, of course, it the whole point of the excercise.

Not wanting to get caught in a lie, I had to coin a new word to describe my wholesale pimping of digital excretion as art. Thus the novel term “Photostylizations”. I even adopted the Americanisation of inserting “z” in place of “s” to further confuse the issue:

That’s the poster which I prepared to introduce my “work”. That’s more or less how I looked at 50. I’m considerably more handsome now.

One of the “pieces” that has enjoyed the most longevity is this Beach in Christmas Bay  from an image I captured at Bag Bag Island:

It didn’t sell. So it, along with several other of these, is still hanging behind the “Blue Dolphin Bar” at our house to give the place a little class. I’ve also used this one several wedding program covers as a background image.

This is an old favourite of mine. It’s titled Fletch.  It’s based on a photo of Jan Fletcher which I grabbed at Kar Kar Island.  She was free diving down into a fresh water spring just off the coast:All of these were framed and numbered 1/1 meaning that they would never be printed again in the same format. Some people in Madang own 1/1 MadDog originals which will be worth a fortune when I’m dead. I hope that they laugh all the way to the bank.

Here’s a nice little pair of Clark’s Anemonefish (Amphiprion clarkii):And another lone one:

This is a Many-Spotted Sweetlips (Plectorhinchus chaetodonoides):The common name is obvious. The taxonomic name, not so.

And this, regulars will recognise as a Spinecheek Anemonefish (Amphiprion biaculatus):Above is the mom.

Below is the baby:Cute, eh?

This is a Shadowfin Soldierfish (Myripistis adusta):It does have a bit of the military look. Maybe it’s the chain-mail armor.

This one I titled Piscus Psychedelicus  for obvious reasons. It’s really a Midnight Snapper (Macolor macularis)  with its colours radically modified:The colours on this one came to me in a dream.

Another little fellow who will be familiar to regular readers is the Reticulated Dascyllus (Dascyllus Reticulatus):The title of that one is Size Doesn’t Matter,  one of my favourite phrases.

Just because I could, I threw a gratuitous flower into the show. Straining my imagination, I titled this one White Flowers:The Madang Country Women’s Association apparently never recovered from the Art Show, though it was a financial success. I think that my stuff alone garnered about K500 and I was among possibly twenty genuine artists.

I hope that they do it again someday. My legend needs constant nourishment to stay alive.

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A Hen’s Party and Melbourne Cup 2009 Combo

Posted in Mixed Nuts on November 7th, 2009 by MadDog
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This Tuesday was Melbourne Cup Day. It’s arguably the biggest horse-race event in Australia and it’s a very big deal here in Papua New Guinea. Country Women’s Association has traditionally hosted a party for the event. This year was a bit different from the last one that I attended.

Work prevented me from attending this year until my wife, Eunice, called me at the office to suggest that she was ready to be picked up at the CWA Cottage. I was mildly surprised to arrive to a room packed full of . . . uh . . . happy women who descended on me, the only man present, as a plague of locusts. It was like a dream come true.

The dual-purpose party served also to celebrate the impending marriage of Karen Simmons to Trevor Hattersley. I suspect that the intensity of the partying (not to mention the number of empty Champagne bottles) was due to the nearness of the wedding at which I will participate as the Celebrant on Saturday.

In case you don’t remember Karen, I’ll show you an image that you’ve seen here on Madang – Ples Bilong Mi  before – the way The Water People  know her:

Karen Simmons as The Water People know herI really love that image. It’s one of the best photographs that I’ve ever captured. It’s not technically perfect, but it has a beautiful voice – like a Paul Simon love song.

I present here this humongous gallery uncensored and without comment:  (What could I say, anyway? Girls just want to have fun!)

I’m looking forward to the Wedding on Saturday. It will be a pleasure to be the Celebrant at the marriage of two of my fondest friends. These things come along only a few times in one’s life. It’s a blessing to me.

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A Birthday for a Queen and an Audience with Swami Monty

Posted in Humor, Mixed Nuts on November 1st, 2008 by MadDog
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It’s a Rainy Saturday*. No boat action.

So, I’m at home going through the news archives. I discovered a horribly underreported event of significant significance which occurred in 2005.

Our humble abode was the venue for a double celebration – The 39th Jubilee of Queen Eunice of Madang and an Auspicious Visitation of Swami Monty**.

Out of fairness to the other resident royals, I must mention that there are actually several Queens in Madang, most of them women.

Each Queen influences events with immense grace and mercy within their respective areas of expertise. It’s a sort of power sharing deal. There are Business Queens, Social Queens, NGO Queens, and not a few Bar Queens.

Here is Her Majesticness Queen Eunice in her Royal Regalia:

Queen Eunce of Madang

At her Royal Backside hangs her Royal Flogging Belt. She uses this instrument of splendid torture on me only when I truly need it. Come to think of it, in her copious wisdom, she employs the RFB only when I request it on bended knee.

Her Stern Mercifulness is a Matron of Great Virtue and a Lifetime Member of the Country Women’s Association. All in all, she is a person with whom not to trifle.

All hail Queen Eunice!

I shan’t dare to say that I’m saving the best for last. Queen Eunice may deign to read this wretched missive. I do not wish to dally with the RFB when I am not in the mood.

Nevertheless, the mere happenstance of being in the Presence of Swami Monty is a blissful transcendence into realms of Humbuggery that mercifully induces a trance-like state not unlike that of having consumed a half-litre of Glenfiddich. If fact, any decent single-malt Scotch will do quite nicely.

Being of humble nature, he delights with self-effacing speech. When I addressed him as Your Sublime Insightfulness, he responded jocularly, “Oh, my goodness gracious! Call me Monty.” We all giggled nervously.

When we retired to My Garden for meditation and yet another single-malt, His Trustworthiness exclaimed, “Great balls ‘o fire! I observe with sublime satisfaction that you have planted the seeds of the Harmonious Daisies that I previously sent to you. Is it not amazing how quickly they blossom?”

As the Swami delivered a brief homily concerning the beneficial effects of sacrificial smoke of the Harmonious Daisies, I retreated to the house to snatch my camera and a chair, hoping on hope that I could persuade His Unpretentiousness to be seated for a portrait.

From the vast, unimaginable magnitude of plenty in his storehouse of goodness, he summoned the humility to sit it a homely chair, next to the Harmonious Daisies and greet us with wry humour.

And this is what we saw:

Swami Monty

Note how his blissful eyes sparkle; his mischievous grin; the girding of his splendid feet in humble sandals.

Swami Monty entranced us all.

If ever again the Swami graces us wretched servants with his Beatifical Presence, I pray that my bar is well stocked and my camera battery is charged.

Peace, baby!

* If you’re not to make jest of your friends, then who? And, by the way, this is what you get when I’m really bored.

** For the uninformed, I’ll note that Swami Monty, for purposes of security, uses the alias “Monty Armstrong” – a likely enough moniker. As a cover, he pretends to work for Airlines PNG.

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CWA – Madang

Posted in CWA, PNG Culture on October 12th, 2008 by MadDog
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This Sunday morning, I’d like to present an article that I asked Maureen Hill to write for Madang – Ples Bilong Mi. People in these parts are familiar with CWA, but I’d like for readers in other places to know something about this energetic and vital community organization.

So, settle in for an interesting read. Here’s a photo of the CWA Cottage in Madang:

The CWA Cottage in Madang




The CWA, as the Country Women’s Association is better known, was assisted in its establishment by the Australian administration at the time they were dividing PNG up into provinces and appointing District Commissioners to the provinces.

CWA was an organization known in Australia for the help it gave to families who lived in the out back of Australia. The kind of help given was to provide places for women to come and stay while they waited for their babies to arrive, to come to town for other health reasons or shopping purposes. Men were also welcome.

At that time there were Australian families being sent to outstations in PNG who were going to require the same services as was given by CWA in Australia.

While seeking land to build the District Commissioners house land was also sought to establish a CWA close at hand.

The Madang CWA was opened in 1952. It was a small building at that time on a choice block of land with lots of room for expansion.

As PNG has changed so has CWA over the years.

Madang CWA still has a guest house that profits from go to support the organization’s projects.


CWA provides women in Madang a meeting place to find friends, learn new skills and find ways to raise money to help women and children in the community.

All CWA projects are to help women and children (families) in the Madang province.

Apart from the staff (7), who manage the guest house side of the organization all members are volunteers giving freely of their time to raise funds and run the programs.

Programs Include:

Kindergaden Long Ples (KLP):
A village based kindergarten program that operates in villages in the Gogol, inland Madang and up the North Coast. Village parents organize the kindergartens while CWA provides office space, transport, training and monitoring of the teachers and supplying of materials. It has been operating since 1982.

Early Childhood Health Care Program (ECHP):
This is a program that CWA started operating in 1996 to help improve the health of children in the villages where the KLP kindergartens are established. A CWA appointed nurse (HEO) goes to the villages to give health education to parents and children. She also does health evaluations on the children. If there are health problems, she advises the parents on ways to help the child or, if necessary, she advises the parents to seek further medical help.

Village Health Volunteers (VHV):
This program works in conjunction with the Madang health Dept to train village women to become health volunteers in their respective village. This training provides training in birth attending and general health work. This course is accredited by the Madang Health Dept and when the volunteers have finished their two year course they receive a Health Dept Certificate.

Adult Tok Pisin Literacy Classes (TPL):
These classes started in 2006 are designed to teach women who have no reading or writing skills. There is a great need for this.

CWA hopes at a later stage to have teacher training workshops to train women to go to their villages and hold literacy classes there.

Children’s Ward Modilon Hospital:
CWA has been a major sponsor of the Children’s ward at Modilon hospital ever since the hospital was built. Currently CWA pays much of the maintenance for the ward and weekly supplies vegetables, eggs and milk for the children.

Village Birthing Houses:
CWA has helped fund houses in villages for mothers to give birth in privacy and traditionally.

Over the years CWA has helped many students with school fees and supplied much in the way of books stationary and sports equipment to various schools.

Play Group:
A play group meets on a regular basis at the cottage it is operated by willing volunteers and funded by CWA.


Membership to CWA costs K10.00 a year.

The Branch and Guest House are managed by a volunteer committee elected on an annual basis.

Most of the mentioned programs are funded by money raised by the volunteer members.

All of this is only possible by the tremendous community support given to CWA when fund raising events are held.

My thanks go to Maureen for that interesting report.

Here’s a shot of Maureen from a previous post about Project Handclasp and the visit of the USS Peleliu to Madang:

Maureen and kids

Cheers to all the ladies (and gentlemen) of CWA! (Yes, they do allow male members. I joined several years ago.)

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¡Vaca Santa! – CWA Latino Night

Posted in CWA, Madang Happenings, Parties on October 10th, 2008 by MadDog
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I feel that I am in danger of becoming a hermit.

Latino Night at CWA is the second major Madang party that I’ve missed in a row. The first was because the tickets were sold out. I missed Latino Night because I was “too tired” – translation: Too embarrassed to admit that I am hopeless at any sort of Latin dancing.

Fortunately for the patient reader, I have this fine report from our budding journalist, Lorraine Collins along with a nice kiddie photo and a couple of others featuring some very fine legs.

This from Lorraine Collins:

Hola! CWA hosted a Latino night for all its Amigos and Amigas. Based on previous successful, fun-filled CWA events, the tickets actually sold out days before the function (quite a rare event in Madang). A flotilla of volunteers slaved away cooking and decorating for the fiesta to make it as bueno a noche as possible. Guests received an uplifting Caipirinha upon arrival; a not-too-shabby cocktail of white rum, brown sugar, and freshly squeezed limes over crushed ice. It was yumliscious and full of Vitamin C, therefore making it an exceedingly healthy drink.

The evening’s entertainment started off with a posse of brave little children doing a dance from Bolivia. The miniature stars were Grace McCarthy, Lottie Beschel, Lilani Mackie, Chloe Senn, Alice, and Mathieu Senn as the token boy. They performed perfectly a beautifully choreographed dance involving scarves. I reckon they will be looking for an agent soon.

Food was then served, most of it being a vegetarian’s delight; Spanish Rice, Vegetarian enchiladas, Vegetable Salad, Mexican Vegetable Stew and Beef Enchiladas for those who needed some carne. For those who had some space left, pudding was Spanish cake with rum-soaked raisins.

Next up were Heidi Majano and Pascal Michon (our naughty little Frenchman in Paradise) demonstrating a very sexy and fast moving Salsa. Man, were they impressive! They shimmied and salsa’d, twirled and strutted and shook their bootie to a fine tune. The audience was very impressed (especially yours truly) and I think Salsa classes should definitely be something in the future. Good exercise plus “sex” that you can perform in public.

That stunning performance was followed by “The Saucy Salsa Sisters” strutting their stuff to a slinky little number from Cuba. We should probably have been introduced as the “Sauced Salsa Sisters” as co-ordination was lacking slightly, but we tried to cover it with excessive bum wiggling and boob shaking. That usually works.

From then on, it was a free for all, with all the Madang Señoras ‘y cabaleros Salsa-ing the night away, learning new moves from Heidi, our resident Latino from El Salvador, and gaining confidence with every red wine.

It was a magnifico noche with all the ingredients for a great night; healthy cocktails, sumptuous food, great dancers, sexy music, and lots of booze. The night would not have been possible without all the volunteers that made the food (Heidi, Lorraine Collins, Eunice Messersmith), decorated (Heidi), danced (Heidi, Lorraine, Cessa Beschel, Fabiana Ponting), and most-importantly, filled the eskis with booze and ice (Trevor Hattersley). The CWA staff and Committee Members that helped in all the preparations were also an integral part of the night’s success. And, of course, Heidi herself, who taught all the big and little girls their moves and hopefully a large part of the Madang Community too! Who said CWA is boring? It’s “The Place To Be” – fun-filled events with all the profits going to worthwhile, Feel Good Charities.

Well . . . I feel as if I had been there.

Here are the kiddies doing the scarf dance:

Kids dancing

Gotta admit that Mathieu is a brave lad.

And here are the ladies getting it on over a Frangipani strewn dance floor. Hey, we’ve got it all in Madang:

The Dancing Señoras

And one more leggy shot just for fun:

More of the Dancing Señoras

Please don’t ask me why Lorraine is balancing a clock on her fingertips. I wasn’t there and she didn’t report it. It must be a Latino thing.

Adios amigos.

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