OFF TO THE BIG CITY OF PAPEETE
We have just arrived in Tahiti and the humans are already off abandoning me aboard. At least a friend promised to stop by and keep me company. The humans headed off in the dingy to visit the ‘big’ city of Papeete. They are determined to get me my ‘importation certificate’.
They did get the process started at their port of entry on the island of Hiva Oa in the Marquesas. All the paper work was completed at the MINISTERE DE L’ARGICULTURE ET DE LA PECHE and forwarded to Papeete. But to finalize the process I was supposed to have a vet inspection. Unfortunately they had no vets in the Marquesas. They have no vets in the Tuamotus either. We had to come to the Society Islands to finally find a vet.
So the humans mission, if they were willing to accept it, was to: 1. Contact the office of Ministere de l’Agriculture et de la Peche 2. Get a vet to inspect me
3. Get my ‘clearance’ paperwork
Easy right? Did I tell you that French Polynesia is a FRENCH speaking country and my silly humans have net yet learned French. You just know this is going to be fun!?! Glad I am staying out of this.
THE TRUSTY TOURIST OFFICE
Ok, the humans are not ‘complete’ idiots. They decided the best place to start was the tourist office. So far, they had always found someone at the tourist office that could speak some English to the stupid tourists, like them, that had been too lazy to learn French before coming. The staff there usually know the city well, and they might be willing to phone the Ministere de l’Agriculture for them.
The humans were lucky, and great Polynesian hospitality, the staff at the tourist office were willing to call and translate for them. Unfortunately the Ministere de l’Agriculture wanted the humans to come and see them in person at their office. ‘Oh, you need a car to go there’ the staff proclaimed. But in the true ‘thrift English’ style my humans insisted they could walk. ‘We can see some of the city’, my humans said. Silly humans! The tourist office tried to put directions on one of their city maps, but the fact that the office they needed to walk too were OFF THE MAP should have been the first warning to them.
SUN STROKE AND BLISTERS
The humans were off to trek across the city in search of the grand offices of the Ministere de l’Agriculture. I can’t pick on them too badly, as they were trying to do all this for my sake. My humans are used to doing a little trekking, but perhaps not on unshaded city pavements. Everyone had warned them that the city of Papeete was HORRIBLE. They had to admit is was a city. Lots of pavement, concrete and shop fronts. But in true Polynesian style all the streets were very clean, breadfruit trees still grew in the churches, schools and parks and ripening mangoes still fell on the side walks. And of course everyone said ‘hello’ to them. In Tahitian of course.
Very quickly the humans realized perhaps they had ‘bitten off more than they could chew’. Stopping in some shade to drink water, and apply electrical tape to their burgeoning blisters, the humans were fortunate enough to meet Daniel. Daniel was the owner of the pizza place, closed at the moment, that they had stopped beside. ‘Please, if you need water, we have water you can take. Where are you going?’ The humans told Daniel they were headed to the Office of the Ministere de l’Agriculture. ‘Oh, you look very hot and tired’ Daniel said ‘You must let me drive you’. And he did. He drove the lucky humans all the way to the offices and even asked around to make sure they got to the right office. How could anyone say Pepeete is a HORRIBLE place when lovely people like Daniel live in it.
BUREAUCRACY – WITH A PLEASANT SMILE?
My poor humans had read everything there was on getting me ‘legal’ into the country. All my annual vaccinations were up to date, I had that silly Leshmania (flee disease) test and a health certificate, all issued just before I crossed the Pacific. I had my specially micro chip implanted back when I was a puppy along with all my rabies vaccinations kept up to date. All the literature the humans had found insisted that as long as I had all these, was quarantined on the boat for 6 months, and got the all clear from a vet inspection I was ‘Scott free’ to legally enter the county.
But you know, just as you arrive, someone has put in new rules.
6 months quarantine on the boat, did not count. They were terribly polite and ever so nice, but no go! Turns out I can not come into the country until I have ANOTHER Leshmania test and ANOTHER test to make sure I don’t have rabies. On top of an anti-parasite treatment and the expected vet inspection. Man they are really after my blood. Do not worry that I would be DEAD by now (over 6 months since I left Panama)if I had any of these diseases. That is bureaucracy for you?
Oh, but the bureaucracy continues. So there is no ‘corruption’ in the system, they can not call a veterinarian for you, to get the process started. All they can do ‘legally’ is give you a list of accepted vets you can contact. But the list they give you does not include any contact details. Not even the name of the practice the vets work for. Why?
VETERINARIAN CLINICS EVERY WHERE, BUT NOT A VET TO BE FOUND
Am I boring you with this story yet? If so, it is not going to get any better, so you are welcome to stop reading here. Especially as you know my humans adventure is going to go on and on and on.
Refreshed, by their little bit of AC at the the Ministere de l’Agriculture, the humans decided the best thing to do was to head back to the trusty Tourist Office. They had free WiFi and the humans could look up the vets names and try to find some contact details. The staff there would surely act as a translator again and set them up an appointment. But did they do that? Of course not.
Heading back towards the waterfront they passed a veterinarian clinic and thought it would be worth checking if any of the ‘Ministere approved’ names worked there. Surprisingly one of the vets on the list did in fact work at the clinic. But unfortunately she was not Polynesian, she was French. I do not want to be ‘stereotypical’ here, but remember all that lovely Polynesian hospitality, patience and willingness to help I have so often described in French Polynesia…..well ‘lets just say’ it typically does not apply to the French that live here. The ‘named’ vet we had found quickly perused the paperwork we had and then, speaking in very rapid French, all the humans could catch was IMPOSSIBLE. One of the veterinarian assistants took pity on the humans sad faces and offered to draw them a map to another clinic she seemed sure could help. But remember, my silly humans still do not understand French, and although they had a pencil drawing of roundabouts and turnings, something may have been lost in translation.
MAD DOGS AND ENGLISH MEN OUT IN THE NOON DAY SUN
You would not catch me traipsing around the city in the noon day heat, but my humans were determined to do their best. With their vague map in hand they were off on another wild goose chase. Stopping beside one of the maps roundabouts the poor humans got a little worried they might be lost when there appeared to be two options for a left hand turn and only one on the map. A lovely man saw their bewildered faces and offered his assistance. ‘Oh no’ he said ‘This place is too the right, not the left’. Heading in the opposite direction of their drawn map the humans decided they were lost and needed more help. Who would maybe speak English and have a map of the city? Right before them was an Avis car rental place.
They stumbled on a welcome oasis. ‘Please sit down in our air conditioned reception. Help yourself to our chilled water dispenser. Let me look this veterinary clinic up for you. Let me draw directions, and describe all the landmarks, on one of our much more detailed city maps. Would you like to use our rest rooms to freshen up?’ If it was not for their mission, I am sure the humans would have happily wasted a bit more of the afternoon heat in the Avis sanctuary. But alas they had a long way to go yet….and back in the direction they had just come from.
LUNCH TIME
Most normal people would be seeking shade and/or air conditioning and taking a lunch break right about now. The streets were busy with traffic stopping into the multitude of take out, grocery stores and restaurants along the humans route. The humans were on a mission and passed this all by in search of their goal. And they eventually found the promised veterinary clinic. Would this place be the answer to their search? Would anyone speak any English?
Yes, yes and no. Yes, there was a lovely helpful vet who could speak very good English at the clinic. Yes, several of his co-workers were on the approved list provided by the Ministere. But no, none of them were in that day. But he did take the humans contact details and promised to get one of them to contact them back. It was at least a start. Satisfied they had done their best the humans headed back to one of the patisere they had walked by earlier and treated themselves to a well earned caffeine and sugar hit. Ohhh, the French bakers do make the best pastries.
SIGHT SEEING
A little sight seeing on the way back to the dingy. The main market is in the square just before the sea front. Here fresh fish, fruit, vegetables and the inevitable tourist trinkets are sold. Being late in the day now the selection was slim, but easier to work some deals for what remained. Finally some fresh vegetables for a change. But then my humans had pretty sore feet, were a little sweaty, and it was getting late in the afternoon. They decided maybe it was better to save the rest of the sight seeing for another day.
So, despite the warnings that the city of Papeete was horrible, the humans found that both city and most of it’s occupants were in fact very delightful. All big cities have their flaws, but with the incredible Polynesian hospitality at work here, Papeete could never be a ‘horrible’ place.
END.
