Enga Province

Crimson red sky over Pak island painted the Papitalai waters crimson red

In the whimsical realm where the "fire of anger" meets the "hammer of productivity," my journey into the term's adventures began with an obnoxious alarm clock of the avian variety. The Manusian bird, proudly donning its crowing crown, played the role of the local rockstar, waking not only the living but also the dearly departed in Papitalai bay.

This winged celebrity, the Chauka, wasn't your typical early bird with polite chirps. No, it cranked up the volume, blasting its monotonous tunes like a rebellious teenager with no regard for anyone's beauty sleep. And there I was, tangled in a wrestling match with my pillows, trying to dodge the sonic assault.

Living on the outskirts of a tree-dominated metropolis, my humble abode transformed into a nature-inspired concert hall. Each day unfolded with a symphony of the wild, an auditory spectacle featuring the entire animal kingdom from the buzzing insects to the cooing cuscus. But the star of the show? Undoubtedly, the notorious Chauka.

As the grand theatre of nature opened its curtains, the birds took center stage, feathers shimmering like a rainbow on a bird runway. The avian ensemble prepared for a vocal extravaganza, a showcase of their lyrical prowess.

The soloist, the Chauka, stood at attention, ready to unleash a crowing symphony that could wake the spirits of the Papitalai bay. The parrots joined in with sweet soprano warbles, the alto added depth, and the tenor injected excitement. It was an avian orchestra, and we, the unwitting audience, listened with both fascination and frustration.

But amidst the cacophony, a thought struck me – what if the Chauka was a school prefect? A feathered disciplinarian ensuring everyone was up on time. The mental image brought a smile to my face, a comedic twist to the early morning chaos.

As I stumbled towards the bathroom, the morning took an unexpected turn. Silence enveloped the room, and my eyes caught a glimpse of something moving. Following the spectacle, I traced the scene from the floor to the windowsills, where the dawn painted the sky in hues of crimson red.

Wiping my face dry, I was greeted by the breathtaking sight outside. The world was bathed in a warm glow, the tranquil stillness of Papitalai reflecting the promise of a new beginning. The birds, now in harmonious unity, serenaded the day with joyous melodies, heralding the start of term 3.

Nature, in a synchronized dance with my calendar, unfolded its magical display. Dewdrops sparkled on vibrant crotons, leaves swayed in the seafront breeze, and fragrant scents embraced the salty air. It was as if the universe joined me in celebrating the return to the classroom after a week's hiatus.

In this surreal moment, time seemed suspended, allowing me to soak in the wonders of the world. The fiery red light symbolized passion and endless possibilities for the term ahead, a reminder to seize each day's opportunities.

As the sun rose higher, the crimson red evolved into a golden glow, signalling the arrival of a new day brimming with promise. The Chauka, despite its disruptive antics, had inadvertently become the herald of a fresh academic journey. Term 3 had begun, and with the avian symphony as my soundtrack, I embraced the boundless potential that nature whispered in every rustling leaf and melodic birdcall.

Chauka-the Manus icon perched on tree branch enjoying the 'bikpla-mangi-tumas' feeling

 

Waterfront at Christ the King Papitalai Secondary School