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When I came to Papua New Guinea the first time, I had been greeted with a "Welcome to Paradise!". This third time, the customer officer in Port Moresby simply tells me "Welcome home, Lidia!", before i head towards the Domestic terminal, where my flight to New Ireland awaits me. We have a six-hours stop in Kokopo, in New Britain, and I want to see the volcanoes in the nearby city of Rabaul - I only have to figure how to get there. Kokopo airport doesn't have an information desk, only a small shop with some Cokes, bush biscuits and chewing-gums. I ask the girl at the counter, and she tells me that the bus number 1 will bring me directly to an observation platform, just outside Rabaul. I get on the bus - a small minivan - and close my eyes. "Hi, I come as well". The girl from the shop smiles at me as she gets on the bus and takes the sit next to mine. "I think it's better if someone comes with you". I didn't expect taht, but I am not surprised. In Papua New Guinea, strangers don't stay as such for a long time. She tells me her name, Reina, and we agree on visiting the market first and then observation platform, before coming back to the airport. In the market, a wave of colours engulfs us and I end up buying a huge bunch of bananas and some papayas, attracted by the vivid yellow of their skin. Then, we start our hike up to the observation platform - we decide not to take the bus. It's extremely hot, and the path very steep - but Reina walks quickly while telling me her story. We chat in English, sliding sometimes into Tok Pisin, the lingua franca of the country. She lives in Kokopo, helps at the airport shop and her dream is to study History at the University of Port Moresby. I tell her why I am currently staying in Papua New Guinea, to write the grammar of a still undescribed language spoken in New Ireland. Reina tries to remember whether she has any relatives in the village where I am staying - her father comes from New Ireland, there is surely some cousin's cousin who might stay in the vicinity. She already makes plans for my next visit to Kokopo: next time, she promises, we'll hike the vocalnoes. The question, in our newly born friendship, is not if: it's just when. Time, in Papua New Guinea, is a relative concept; appointements are usually taken "some time in the afternoon"; "some day this week". Reina and I exchange phone numbers and agree on meeting "sometime next year". No matter when exactly, she'll bring me to the volcano.