A Fair Cop

Sika is expecting a canoe and engine any day now from the provincial police headquarters at Gizo. That will help his officers enormously. Who cares about the lack of a vehicle anyway, says the sprightly Solomons police veteran, as soon as a 10-minute deluge stops. "Walking is the best way to see Noro," he says as the clouds roll away. "Come on!" Sika makes a brisk pace on the island's best road under a blazing sun, weaving around fresh puddles and pointing out the town's sights. His station, neat but spartan, sits on a small hill just outside town; marooned in the yard, an old shipping container, with a slot cut in one end for observation, serves as the lock-up. Noro station is empty - the officers, some of whom camped out on nearby islands for an early start, are supervising the elections.

While the RSIP has no shortage of new recruits, funding is a major concern. Will it inherit - and then be able to maintain - the new boats and vehicles when the visitors leave? Curragh says she had to fight with administrators just to get stationery for the officers: "How are you supposed to do your job without such basics?" Somehow they are managing, she adds, and perhaps good officers like Sergeant Tiazy and Constable Maekera will inspire the clock watchers. But Curragh fears that the presence of foreigners may turn out to be a modern cargo cult. "In some places, when people see a white person, they put their hand out. We don't want to reproduce that mentality here."

Having reached a flat spot in her police career - "I was a little bored" - Curragh came to Solomon Islands on the advice of other Kiwis who had served here. The country doesn't get much attention from New Zealand's news media and Curragh wasn't even sure where to find it on a map. Anyway, the graduate in psychology prefers to come to new assignments cold and make up her own mind. "For the RSIP, I was just another face to them," says Curragh of her arrival. "It takes quite a bit of time for them to trust you. The staff have opened up and I really enjoy working with them. Out here I have another family. I have Sete and 'Isi, my PPF family, and I have the RSIP." While the work has been pretty basic, Curragh's self-confidence has grown. "I'm out here and I don't have backup. I'm responsible for my two PPF officers and the Solomons police officers. If anything happens, it's my call. I've been thrown into a situation that's unique and I'm coping. I'm surviving, and I'm enjoying myself immensely." The day's work over, Curragh is swimming with the local children in the waterhole at Kindu village. "A smile goes a long way here," she says, as slippery kids do spectacular bombs off rocks into the clear, shallow water, and fishing boats make their way home in the twilight. No wonder she feels like a queen.