Nusa Zonga. Munda. Solomon Islands


“Blue is the colour if the Pacific. It is the air we breathe. Blue is the gap in the air of all things, such as the palm and the iron roof. But for blue we would not see the fruit bats… It is surprising where the colour blue pops up. Look and ye shall find. You can find blue squinting up in the cracks of the wharf… If blue where an animal or plant or bird, it would be a seagull. It gets its sticky beak into everything.

Blue also has magical powers, watch a reef and tell me I am lying. Blue crashes onto the reef and what colour does it release? It releases white! Now tell me how does it do that?”

Daniels Granmother.  Mister Pip, Lloyd Jones.


I loved reading this book, a story of a girl in Boganville, an Island of PNG which closely borders the Solomon Islands, not too far at all from our Islands here in the Western Province. The writing is beautiful, the descriptions and stories capturing the characters and climate so well.  Our housemate in Honiara was from Boganville, a lovely man who escaped to the Solomons as a young teenager towards the end of the tensions. I’ve spent still moonlit nights on the balcony listening to the terrors of the tensions and his time spent nursing infected bullet wounds in the bush. We laughed together at the skinniness of his legs and how that must have helped the bullets miss them as they shot at his running feet, we questioned together his age and the whereabouts of his family. It’s a mix of happiness and sadness and those things in-between. The book captures that feeling so well, the things you can’t write or speak, the in-between.


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