BY JOHANES SEDI of Vanimo Village
It was aptly named Romantica. A bit of a case like, "When in Rome, do what the Romans do".
Except that the setting is in little-known Wutung Village, tucked away between Hollandia Bay to the north and Mt Bougainville to the south.
Think of Rome and you remember priests. Former padre and Wutung villager himself, Patrick Muliale took idle youngsters from the village, cleared a rocky edge saddled between rock, sand and sea; and established Romantica, a convenient watering hole and niteclub.
It was the turn of the millenium; and the beginning of brighter things to come in this sun-drenched frontier bordering bustling Asia and palm-fringed Pasifika.
For the passerby on wheels, quenching your thirst is a must because the port of Vanimo is some 65km eastway.
One sip of your favourite ale and you would just wish to rape both the scene and any person there with your eyes.
Muliale, that former ordained Catholic priest and Secondary School teacher knew the inner sanctum of the human behaviour like the palm of his blessed hands; and did not mince ideas.
Guys like Jeffrey Pasika, Abraham Nera became successful in their business endeavours today, due in part to the humble beginnings of Romantica.
In fact by design, the entire West Coast of Vanimo is reknown for scenic beaches, cool streams and meandered settings.
Young and old, many sexy to their dingles dangle around sand and soil in the moonlight.
For it is said the moon is the reflection of the heart. And the moonlight is the twinkle of your love.
Population bust is normal.
Wutung, like much of the north coast of New Guinea is a minute scatter of world war memoirs.
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| Wutung Village, Vanimo West Coast |
Around Solomon Beach an American jeep is rumoured to be buried neatly with its backtray fully loaded with guns and ammunitions when the war suddenly ended with news of the Japanese surrender in Rabaul.
When I was told about it in 2014 by then Ward Member Raphael Tungla, I told him that this will certainly attract the interest of the RSL, the Returned Services League and the US Embassy whom the landowners of the area could seek funding from to develop their area for tourism.
He even told me that somewhere beneath the foothills of Mt Bougainville, a war plane lies hidden among nature's foliage and its own shadow of death.
War has no winners. Bertrand Russel put it nicely, when he said: "War does not determine who is right - only who is left".
In time Wutung and its 3 powerful clans will be a force to be reckoned with in economic scales.
If life gives you lemon, make lemonade.
Simply put, the ugly side of world war has given the people of pamuah Wutung a sleeping but monumental reawakening call to stand up and be counted.
Nature waits for no one. Time fades inconsequently with the last adam and eve standing.
Today, Wutung and more so 'batas' is known all over Papua New Guinea.
By now more than a million persons have passed through the village and ascended the winding road up to the cliff top since it was declared a port of entry around mid-1990s.
Excise duties contribute significantly to PNG's coffers. Wutung Villagers, like everyone else struggle daily to make ends meet.
Slowly but surely, the village has come of age.
Some brilliant elders are still alive, and together with the many highly-educated youngsters pussyfooting around the village and throughout PNG, Wutung will soon change.
For the better.
Romantica sadly was burnt to ashes after a very short time due to differences amongst the young proponents themselves.
But lo and behold, romance is so powerful a word that out of the ashes the world of idealism was imparted by padre Muliale.
Today life at the frontier of this 141st meridian - whether lock-down or lock-in or snap-lock; goes on.
In it's own space. And time.
Photo: Bird's eyeview of pamuah Wutung. Credit: Zuvumakeh Sedi
