Funniest thing

By Fran Copp
This item appears on page 53 of the June 2014 issue.

This month’s winner is FRAN COPP of Farmington Hills, Michigan:

A number of years ago, my husband and I were traveling in the remote interior of Papua New Guinea. Prior to our trip, I had surprised him with the very expensive video camera of his dreams, so I was feeling very protective of his new gift.

After having our lunch at the lodge, our guide took our group on a jungle hike down a mountainside to see a series of waterfalls. We came upon a deep ravine with water filling the basin. We had to cross a bamboo bridge about 35 feet across that consisted of three or four poles laced together with vines plus a horizontal pole on either side. The side poles were not for leaning upon but only for helping us keep our balance. 

Only one person at a time could cross the bridge. We all made it safely to the other side.

As is common in mountain jungles, the afternoon rain began to fall. It continued to rain very hard as we approached a second bamboo bridge, only this one was just above the rushing waterfalls and about 60 to 70 feet long. Again, only one person at a time could cross. 

I put on my poncho and made it to the other side, then looked back for my husband. I spotted the familiar poncho, but it was flying all over due to the wind and the mist of the waterfalls. I then noticed, to my horror, that he had his video camera out in the rain and was trying to record himself crossing the bridge. I began to holler as loud as I could, “Put the camera away!” but he just kept coming, wobbling into the side poles. I yelled again but to no avail. 

After another 15 feet or so, he began to lose his balance, falling sideways into the side rails. At that point, I thought he was going off the bridge and into the rushing waters below. I completely lost it and yelled at the top of my lungs, “PUT THE DAMN CAMERA AWAY,” after which I felt someone hitting my shoulder. 

I turned to see a lady looking at me with fire in her eyes. She said, “That is MY husband you are yelling at.”

I immediately looked for my husband and saw him still waiting to cross, standing under an umbrella, his camera tightly covered to keep it dry. 

I made numerous unsuccessful attempts to apologize to the lady, but she never spoke to me again during the remaining five days of our Sepik River tour.