Does the title say enough? Each day I am simply amazed with the natural wonders, cultural diveristy, and pure beauty of Indonesia. How can I explain my experiences in words? I'll try the best I can while typing away at this internet cafe in Bali. This is the second time I find myself in Bali for the night, only to leave the following morning. But this time, I will get a slice of pizza from Pizza Hut and fries from McDonalds (they deliver 24 hrs) just because I can!
Flores was spectacular! I flew to Ende because of my tight schedule to meet Mikal, my friend who I met at VSO training in Ottawa. She is volunteering in Bajawa (town in the middle of Flores) with a farmers co-op helping to market their cashew exports. So, when I arrived in Ende I was immediately swarmed with guides shouting "Transport!" "Obama!" "Transport!" "Obama!" A guide who could speak English caught my attention and I agreed to ride the 2 hrs to Moni on the back of his motorbike (with my 13 kg backpack)after I learned he is "friends" with Mikal. Other than markets, Ende is less than exciting, so I decided to make a direct trip to Moni to trek up Kalimutu. Its a volcano that has three colored lakes that change colors. The road to Moni was spectaular. Waterfalls are a definate advantage to rainy season...in one panoramic view I saw 8! Rice fields, monkeys, buffalos, villages with thatched huts, satellite dishes and elaborate tombstones. I opted for a homestay to get a true village experience and I helped to cook rice and papaya leaves over a fire and then watched TV. The contrast was surprising. That night the guide took me to hotsprings in the middle of a rice field. Scorpians and 6 inch preying mantas (sp?) didnt allow me much sleep before my 4:00 am alarm to start my way up the volcanoe to see the lakes at sunrise.
The topography was similar to my Mt Wilhelm climb in PNG. When I arrived at the lakes they were a turquious, chocolate latte, and dark green color. They have been red, blues, orange, greens and black. (Two days after I left I was told by another tourist that the green lake turned red!!) Their changing colors remains a mystery, but some say its the spirits while others say its disolving minerals and/or the changing seasons.
After Moni, I headed back to Ende to catch a 4 hour bus to Bajawa. Party buses, thats all I can say about that...other than Two Live Crew at insane decible levels. Bajawa is inland and has two volcanos..I climbed one, the other is too dangerous during the rainy season. Bajawa is also known for its traditional villages and ikat (sarong) weavings. The carvings in the village and the men and women "houses" were as beautiful as the mountain top views. There are hobbits in Flores..I felt like a giant sitting next to the tiny woman as we pounded coffee beans.
Mikal's VSO experiences is a far cry from the expat lifestyle I live in Madang. No running water, bucket baths, and trantula spiders climbing the walls. We took a bus to a nearby village so I could see cashew processing. I had no idea so much work went into cashews...I appreciate them on a whole new level now. They grow from the bottom of a fruit that looks like an apple. Once the fruit falls to the ground, the cashew is ripe. then it has to be dried, the cracked, the dried again, then peeled, the dried again. But the process of cracking and peeling is dangerous and if you dint wear gloves your skin will itch like a bad case of poision ivy. We went to the head of the village (because that's where all the business is done)so I could get my hands on some cashews. And of course, they made it look simple. Alignment is essential as broken pieces are worth less than whole cashews.
Some other highlights of my trip were the beautiful rainbow over the volcano after an afternoon rain shower, the waterfall deep tissue massage in the hot springs, and my stroll through the market which lead me to fried tofu! Yummy!
After 3 days in Bajawa I boarded yet another bus to Labwaunbajo, for some of the world's best snorkeling and Komodo Drangons. Plastic bags were handed to each passanger. I soon realized why and was thankful. 10 hours later I arrived just in time for the stunning sunset over the harbor. The hotel was filled with travellers seeking the ultimate dive spots and the only island in the world with Komodo dragons. They appeared to me more like dinosaurs verses lizards. Either way, I stayed close to the guide whose only protection from these dragons was a stick! Komodo drangons can run 15 kms per hr and can weigh 50 kgs. They hunt goats, wild horses, buffalo and other dragons. Their saliva is poisonous and after they bite their prey they lay in the sun and wait for them to die. After two hours on Rinca Island in the intense heat hunting dragons I caugh the boat for snorkeling. I may be biased, but I think the coral and fish in Madang are much better!
The next morning, Mikal and I began our 30 hour journey across Lombok to the Gili Islands. We took a 10 hour public ferry with chickens and goats and smoking poker players, then a 2 hour bus to the Bima coach bus for a night bus. At dawn, the bus drove onto another ferry for 3 hours, then we drove off and across Lombok where we took yet another bus to climb onto a horse and buggy that took us to another boat to Gili. All in all, 30 hours later were were on Gili Meno, an isolated paradise. There were only a handful of tourist and for 3 days and nights we felt like we were on a deserted island. We snorkeled with turtles and manta rays (the coral is still better in Madang in my opinion. Body surfed, watched sunsets and built bonfires on the beach. The Gili's are a chain of three islands off Lombok. We opted against the "party island" but took the island hopping boat to Gili Air where we rode bicycles across the entire island and drank Bintang beer in a bungalow overlooking the white sand beach and turquois water.
We decided to pay the extra money and charter a ferry and bus to Bali (we deserved it after 30 hours of people puking in plastic bags). The sea was rough and transportation was cancelled, but 8 hrs later we arrived at the Bali Hyatt (thanks Nolan family!!!!) Pure luxury in every form. Wine, bread, cheese, olives, lattes, smoked salmon and scallops. White sheets slippers and robes, cable TV, and spa. I splurged for a 5 hour Balanese spa treatment complete with steam room, jacuzzi, sauna, facial, body scrub, scalp massage, milk bath, hair treatment, massage and gourmet lunch! Worth every precious US dollar!!!! Too bad I had to carry my backpack across Bali's Poppies District tonight looking for a homestay.
For the next week I plan to tour the temples and observe Balanese cultural dances and artifacts. Stay tuned.....
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Jayapura
After two nights on a ship, curled around my bags, holding my trusty Swiss Army knife as protection from the spak (drunk) man that assaulted me in Wewak, I found myself in the sleepy town of Vanimo. While waiting the 24 hours it takes to receive my Indonesian visa, I snorkeled in the bay and body surfed waves near the seaside market.
Thanks to my American passport, the border crossing was relatively easy. The Indonesian officials required my Japanese friend, who I met on the ship in Wewak, to complete a few extra formalities.
I noticed the differences between PNG and West Papua immediately. The scenery transitioned quickly from seaside huts to motorbikes speeding across smoothly paved roads. Although its only a 2 hour drive between Vanimo and Jayapura, the culture is quite diverse; however, both are equally covered with trash. Guess that goes along with being border towns?
The city is buzzing with people and motorbikes. Its so freeing to be able to walk the streets at night and not have to worry about being raped or stabbed with a bush knife. People are everywhere, kids running in and out of the stalls. Imagine any Southeast Asian country. Street vendors selling everything from buai, sunglasses, pirated dvds and dcs, dried fish, shoes, mobile phones. Most of the food I've eaten has been from street vendors...fried bananas, fried taro, fried something that was greasy and crunchy??? For my Thanksgiving dinner I had some type of fish ball noodle soup...well, I hope it was fish and not one of the may cats I see roaming the littered streets. Its not like I can read the menu or understand the language.
Everyone speaks Bahasa, which makes things more challenging. In the taxi crossing the border I was able to get a few translations from Pidgin to Bahasa. Most communication is written in a small book I carry around. Yesterday when I tried to book a flight to Flores with the travel agency, the man drew a clock with the hands pointing to 9:00..I took that as "come back tomorrow at 9!" Finally today after 3 hours, a motorbike ride to buy a map, and the handful of words I had scratched into my book, I was able to get a flight to Bali.
Today Kit (the Japanese volunteer) and I roamed through an enormous market. Shirts, mops, fresh fish, oil, buckets, garlic, watermelon, shoes, chairs, soap, nuts, dried fish, and lots of other familiar and unrecognizable things. We tasted some fruit which skin looked like a snake. It wasn't delicious but was very interesting.
Luckily tonight there is a live music festival! I couldn't have arrived at a better time.
I leave for the airport at 430 in the morning and hope to find my way to Flores from Bali. And the adventure continues.....
Thanks to my American passport, the border crossing was relatively easy. The Indonesian officials required my Japanese friend, who I met on the ship in Wewak, to complete a few extra formalities.
I noticed the differences between PNG and West Papua immediately. The scenery transitioned quickly from seaside huts to motorbikes speeding across smoothly paved roads. Although its only a 2 hour drive between Vanimo and Jayapura, the culture is quite diverse; however, both are equally covered with trash. Guess that goes along with being border towns?
The city is buzzing with people and motorbikes. Its so freeing to be able to walk the streets at night and not have to worry about being raped or stabbed with a bush knife. People are everywhere, kids running in and out of the stalls. Imagine any Southeast Asian country. Street vendors selling everything from buai, sunglasses, pirated dvds and dcs, dried fish, shoes, mobile phones. Most of the food I've eaten has been from street vendors...fried bananas, fried taro, fried something that was greasy and crunchy??? For my Thanksgiving dinner I had some type of fish ball noodle soup...well, I hope it was fish and not one of the may cats I see roaming the littered streets. Its not like I can read the menu or understand the language.
Everyone speaks Bahasa, which makes things more challenging. In the taxi crossing the border I was able to get a few translations from Pidgin to Bahasa. Most communication is written in a small book I carry around. Yesterday when I tried to book a flight to Flores with the travel agency, the man drew a clock with the hands pointing to 9:00..I took that as "come back tomorrow at 9!" Finally today after 3 hours, a motorbike ride to buy a map, and the handful of words I had scratched into my book, I was able to get a flight to Bali.
Today Kit (the Japanese volunteer) and I roamed through an enormous market. Shirts, mops, fresh fish, oil, buckets, garlic, watermelon, shoes, chairs, soap, nuts, dried fish, and lots of other familiar and unrecognizable things. We tasted some fruit which skin looked like a snake. It wasn't delicious but was very interesting.
Luckily tonight there is a live music festival! I couldn't have arrived at a better time.
I leave for the airport at 430 in the morning and hope to find my way to Flores from Bali. And the adventure continues.....
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Tis the Season
A buzz fills the humid air of Madang. Everyone is flooding into the Provincial Capital for graduations and to visit wontoks for the holidays. The streets and shops are swarming with people. Ships flow in and out of the port filled with visitors and cargo. All the resorts and guest houses are booked through the end of the year. With the incoming tourists and rascals looking for opportunities, the none too hidden costs of security are heightened. The crowds gather at the main bus stop outside the market, where Nestle and Digicel adverts painted on cinderblock passes for development. Street children with yellow eyes walk aimlessly hustling for toea (coins), or for nothing. They cling to uncles and brothers who sell single smokes and stolen mobile phones as they walk through the diesel fumes between buses. The alleys between shops are filled with vendors selling buai and smokes. Men with bowl cuts, shaved heads, cornrolls, and dreads spit and throw market trash and buai everywhere. Big football sized bare feet stomp around mounds of pawpaw rinds and wopa biscuit wrappers. 
In Papindo Supermarket it’s definitely the Christmas season. The decorations look as if they were taken directly from Clark W. Griswold’s attic. Cheap plastic Santa Clauses and reindeer are hung to anything standing still. Loud speakers blaring Pacific reggae music lure customers inside for a free cup of rice. Two solemn faced security guards give pat downs as you enter and exit the shop.
School holidays have unofficially begun despite the approaching official closing day, December 5th. When I first arrived I was told that the Country basically shut down for over two months during the Christmas break. This is proving to be true. Several weeks ago when visiting schools to follow up with teachers who participated in a training, I found schools partially filled with students without teachers. The classrooms were speckled with the occasional gathering of children twisting each others hair and playing cards, Head Teacher offices were empty, and oblivious mothers were selling flour balls and ice blocks under nearby mango trees.
For these reasons, tis the season for a vacation! My great Pacific adventure by sea begins today!!! For 10 weeks, with my backpack, camera and snorkel in tow, I plan to travel solo from Papua New Guinea, across all the islands of Indonesia, through Malaysia and back.There’s an amplified tendency to give into whims when traveling independently. It’s fueled by the sense of empowerment and backed by inspiration to take a chance, to explore, to learn. The embodiment of life leads to the most interesting of destinations. I hope find internet cafes to be able share my stories during my travels!
In Papindo Supermarket it’s definitely the Christmas season. The decorations look as if they were taken directly from Clark W. Griswold’s attic. Cheap plastic Santa Clauses and reindeer are hung to anything standing still. Loud speakers blaring Pacific reggae music lure customers inside for a free cup of rice. Two solemn faced security guards give pat downs as you enter and exit the shop.
School holidays have unofficially begun despite the approaching official closing day, December 5th. When I first arrived I was told that the Country basically shut down for over two months during the Christmas break. This is proving to be true. Several weeks ago when visiting schools to follow up with teachers who participated in a training, I found schools partially filled with students without teachers. The classrooms were speckled with the occasional gathering of children twisting each others hair and playing cards, Head Teacher offices were empty, and oblivious mothers were selling flour balls and ice blocks under nearby mango trees.
For these reasons, tis the season for a vacation! My great Pacific adventure by sea begins today!!! For 10 weeks, with my backpack, camera and snorkel in tow, I plan to travel solo from Papua New Guinea, across all the islands of Indonesia, through Malaysia and back.There’s an amplified tendency to give into whims when traveling independently. It’s fueled by the sense of empowerment and backed by inspiration to take a chance, to explore, to learn. The embodiment of life leads to the most interesting of destinations. I hope find internet cafes to be able share my stories during my travels!
Thursday, November 20, 2008
International Children's Day
November 20th marks the day that the United Nations Assembly adopted the Declaration of the Right of the Child in 1959 and the Convention on the Rights of the Child in 1989.
Children and teachers from all the schools in Madang town gathered at the Provincial Government Offices where we rallied to begin our march.
We marched through town shouting "Respect Children's Rights!" It was chilling; it was moving. It felt incredible to march through the streets of Papua New Guinea to take a stand against corporal punishment.
Seeing these children's faces and hearing their voices crying out to their community moved me to tears.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Mangos, Dancing, Bilums, & Blackouts
Leaping towards the sounds of falling mangos is rainy season entertainment. You hear the ripe mango as it falls, splitting the leaves and bouncing off branches. Seconds after the thud, the golden mango is held high above a proud head. You think to yourself, I almost had it…the next one is mine! The entire country smells as sweet as a mango….well besides the PMVs. They still smell like buai sweat.
I can’t say it’s a hard life here in paradise. Marleen and I decided to hit the second hand shops yesterday afternoon during our lunch break. It’s hit or miss. After smothering in the “heat box” as I call them and rummaging through the mostly Asian brand clothing, I happened upon two good buys. And by good buys I mean, the stains came out in the wash, there were no holes, and they fit! My waist line continues to grow with each expat dinner party and each empty bottle of wine and SP (South Pacific Beer).
We have discovered the night life at Madang Country Club on Fridays where we first eat Chinese dinner at the attached Eden’s Restaurant. Then once the lights go down and the parka carpet is rolled back, we hit the dance floor. Last Friday we met PNGs only mortician…I call her Tina. On the dance floor she is Ms Tunner herself! 
For two weekends in a row we closed down Pils Rapa, Madang’s only night club. They blast PNG music with a few Australian and American hits from the 80s and 90s. It’s funny to watch the waves of people enter and exit the dance floor with each song. As soon as a song ends, the people run off the floor…no one wants to be caught on the floor without music. As soon as the next song begins they run back on the floor. This continues all night, on and off, on and off. I enjoy Pils Rapa, being able to let loose and dance!
Work continues to be a roller coaster of successes and challenges. Last month I facilitated Madang’s first inclusive education stakeholders meeting.
Of the 23 stakeholders within the province, 13 were in attendance. Over half, that is a success in my eyes! The teachers at the center finally had an “ah-ha” moment the other day after 5 months of discussion about enrolling the center-based students into mainstream schools. The Provincial Department has yet to take ownership of special needs students in school and the board of the center is reluctant to stop center-based school enrollments for next year. Although much as been accomplished, there is a lot to be done. I am glad I am being challenged…I am growing, learning, becoming a more competent advisor.
Still haven’t faced my fear of diving. I had planned to take the open water course before my trip to Indonesia but somehow November 26th is just around the corner. I plan to travel by ships and ferries from Madang up the coast to Vanimo, the last town in PNG before the Indonesian border, where I’ll stay the one day it requires to get an Indonesian visa. Then I’ll cross the border to Jayapura and begin island hopping across Flores, Lombok, Bali, Nusa Lemmbongan, and eventually through Java, Sumatra around around xmas and new years. Then I’m meeting Marleen, Jolanda, Anna and Albert in Singapore to hop on a train through Malaysia for most of January. Then I’ll have to start making my way by ship back to Madang. Ships and ferries will be an adventure as I have been told that they may only go once or twice a week…and that’s even uncertain! But really, what travel plans in any developing country are ever certain?!?!?
Kate models her new braille pattern bilum.
My bilum obsession...I mean collection, continues to grow. Roselyn gave me another bilum , which brings my collection to 6 now! This one is great because it has a long strap. Its a patchwork pattern not the Braille pattern that I dream of or any of the other traditional patterns such as the mosquito coil, hockey stick or key patterns. Roselyn and her children, Stephanie and Dunston are coming for the weekend. I received a package from The Graves family, friends of my Dad and Carol, and inside where tons of American luxuries! Thank you! I plan to share the M&Ms and dvds with Roselyn and the kids when they come.
Blackout and earthquakes seem like everyday occurrences. So, when I ran out of electricity units the other night I thought it was another black out. I noticed the glow of my neighbor’s security lights from my veranda and realized it had been a while since I topped up my meter. I didn’t have my usual 10 kina back up units so my black bean burgers had to wait another night. This meant I had a sleepless night without a fan. Hot and sticky with the air so thick I could barely breathe. After topping up at The Butchery, Madang’s high end grocery store, the following morning, I rushed home to enter my top up code into the meter…I had fresh yellow fin tuna in the fridge that I didn’t want to spoil. I turned out all the lights and fans from the night before and hurried down my wobbly stairs for work. Now that it’s the end of the school year, I am busy writing strategic plans for next year and find myself working late hours. When I entered my house after 6:00 I was hit by a wave of heat. It’s usually very warm in my concrete house in the afternoons, but this was much more intense. When I entered the kitchen I found the heat source, a bright red stove coil! Last night when the units ran out I was boiling black beans and in my rush through the house that morning turning off fans and lights I forgot about the stove!
Typical life of a volunteer in Madang. According the volunteers in the highlands and other islands, life is much different.
I can’t say it’s a hard life here in paradise. Marleen and I decided to hit the second hand shops yesterday afternoon during our lunch break. It’s hit or miss. After smothering in the “heat box” as I call them and rummaging through the mostly Asian brand clothing, I happened upon two good buys. And by good buys I mean, the stains came out in the wash, there were no holes, and they fit! My waist line continues to grow with each expat dinner party and each empty bottle of wine and SP (South Pacific Beer).
We have discovered the night life at Madang Country Club on Fridays where we first eat Chinese dinner at the attached Eden’s Restaurant. Then once the lights go down and the parka carpet is rolled back, we hit the dance floor. Last Friday we met PNGs only mortician…I call her Tina. On the dance floor she is Ms Tunner herself! 
For two weekends in a row we closed down Pils Rapa, Madang’s only night club. They blast PNG music with a few Australian and American hits from the 80s and 90s. It’s funny to watch the waves of people enter and exit the dance floor with each song. As soon as a song ends, the people run off the floor…no one wants to be caught on the floor without music. As soon as the next song begins they run back on the floor. This continues all night, on and off, on and off. I enjoy Pils Rapa, being able to let loose and dance! Work continues to be a roller coaster of successes and challenges. Last month I facilitated Madang’s first inclusive education stakeholders meeting.
Of the 23 stakeholders within the province, 13 were in attendance. Over half, that is a success in my eyes! The teachers at the center finally had an “ah-ha” moment the other day after 5 months of discussion about enrolling the center-based students into mainstream schools. The Provincial Department has yet to take ownership of special needs students in school and the board of the center is reluctant to stop center-based school enrollments for next year. Although much as been accomplished, there is a lot to be done. I am glad I am being challenged…I am growing, learning, becoming a more competent advisor.
Still haven’t faced my fear of diving. I had planned to take the open water course before my trip to Indonesia but somehow November 26th is just around the corner. I plan to travel by ships and ferries from Madang up the coast to Vanimo, the last town in PNG before the Indonesian border, where I’ll stay the one day it requires to get an Indonesian visa. Then I’ll cross the border to Jayapura and begin island hopping across Flores, Lombok, Bali, Nusa Lemmbongan, and eventually through Java, Sumatra around around xmas and new years. Then I’m meeting Marleen, Jolanda, Anna and Albert in Singapore to hop on a train through Malaysia for most of January. Then I’ll have to start making my way by ship back to Madang. Ships and ferries will be an adventure as I have been told that they may only go once or twice a week…and that’s even uncertain! But really, what travel plans in any developing country are ever certain?!?!?
Kate models her new braille pattern bilum.My bilum obsession...I mean collection, continues to grow. Roselyn gave me another bilum , which brings my collection to 6 now! This one is great because it has a long strap. Its a patchwork pattern not the Braille pattern that I dream of or any of the other traditional patterns such as the mosquito coil, hockey stick or key patterns. Roselyn and her children, Stephanie and Dunston are coming for the weekend. I received a package from The Graves family, friends of my Dad and Carol, and inside where tons of American luxuries! Thank you! I plan to share the M&Ms and dvds with Roselyn and the kids when they come.
Blackout and earthquakes seem like everyday occurrences. So, when I ran out of electricity units the other night I thought it was another black out. I noticed the glow of my neighbor’s security lights from my veranda and realized it had been a while since I topped up my meter. I didn’t have my usual 10 kina back up units so my black bean burgers had to wait another night. This meant I had a sleepless night without a fan. Hot and sticky with the air so thick I could barely breathe. After topping up at The Butchery, Madang’s high end grocery store, the following morning, I rushed home to enter my top up code into the meter…I had fresh yellow fin tuna in the fridge that I didn’t want to spoil. I turned out all the lights and fans from the night before and hurried down my wobbly stairs for work. Now that it’s the end of the school year, I am busy writing strategic plans for next year and find myself working late hours. When I entered my house after 6:00 I was hit by a wave of heat. It’s usually very warm in my concrete house in the afternoons, but this was much more intense. When I entered the kitchen I found the heat source, a bright red stove coil! Last night when the units ran out I was boiling black beans and in my rush through the house that morning turning off fans and lights I forgot about the stove!
Typical life of a volunteer in Madang. According the volunteers in the highlands and other islands, life is much different.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Obama Makes History
November 4th 2008 is an epic day. A day that I will remember forever. A day that will be marked in history. Barack Obama is the 44th President of the United States! Barack Obama is the 1st African American President of the United States. Barack Obama is our voice of hope and change.
As President-elect Obama said so eloquently last night, “our stories are singular but our destiny is shared.” I couldn’t agree more. In today’s interconnected world, America can’t do it alone. He reminded us that this election is not change itself; this election brings the opportunity for change. He challenged us to "summon a new spirit of patriotism; of service and responsibility where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves, but each other." His powerful and inspiring words moved me to tears and I couldn’t have been more proud to be an American than I was at that very moment. YES WE CAN!
I find it incredibly enriching to experience this moment within the International and multi-national contexts. From this distance I get a good world view. I see how this election effects more than just Americans. Discussions on the significant impact the American election has on the world and questions regarding voting systems and electoral colleges arise. Media saturation stretches beyond the East and West Coasts and spreads across pages of PNG newspapers. It’s all abstract for PNG, the idea of market crashes and bailout plans. The idea of a near two year campaign trail is also abstract for PNG and smaller countries. The elections in Holland span a single month. In Australia, where mandatory voting is implemented, the elections trail for one year. Elections in Papua New Guinea, using a rank voting system of your 1st, 2nd and 3rd choice of candidates, cannot hide corruption and often times leads to administration disputes. In Mt Hagan last week these disputes resulted in the burning of the Provincial Administration Building and bridge to the town. For my Italian friend, I can see how he is skeptical of one person bringing about change when there are new political officials elected each year in his country. But isn’t that what is great about America, our freedom and our ability to change? Not all are skeptical. My Spanish friend said she was moved to tears by Obama’s speech.
Viewing the questions of race and gender elicited by this presidential race within a developmental context intensifies its significance. CNN and their “magic wall” of touch screen statistics indicated that Obama and the Democratic Party won in less southern states than during the Clinton, Gore and Kerry campaigns. I am not a political analyst, but I believe this indicates certain levels of concern. At the election party tonight, my Italian friend critically questioned the Papua New Guineans celebrating in the streets. He challenged the idea of their celebration of a black man winning the American Presidency calling it racism. Through my eyes I see their celebration as an opportunity to dream. They see that there is a country out there --call it America-- that is filled with millions of white Christians who voted freely to elect a black man, son of a Muslim, to be their President. I see it as a promise that there is a place in the world where such a thing happens. With Obama's background, including his upbringing in Indonesia, he is able to understand the problems faced by poorer countries. This glorious epic makes America stand again as the land of extraordinary opportunity and limitless possibilities. I voted for my candidate not due to race or gender, but for the hope he inspires, the vision he shares, and the motivation for change he summons of the American people.
In a celebratory call to my best friend Dre, now living in a Blue State for the first time in her life, we chanted OBAMA! OBAMA! OBAMA! from across the Pacific! It was a wonderful moment in my life. The celebration of Barack Obama as the President Elect of the United States of America is a significant moment across the world!
As President-elect Obama said so eloquently last night, “our stories are singular but our destiny is shared.” I couldn’t agree more. In today’s interconnected world, America can’t do it alone. He reminded us that this election is not change itself; this election brings the opportunity for change. He challenged us to "summon a new spirit of patriotism; of service and responsibility where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves, but each other." His powerful and inspiring words moved me to tears and I couldn’t have been more proud to be an American than I was at that very moment. YES WE CAN!
I find it incredibly enriching to experience this moment within the International and multi-national contexts. From this distance I get a good world view. I see how this election effects more than just Americans. Discussions on the significant impact the American election has on the world and questions regarding voting systems and electoral colleges arise. Media saturation stretches beyond the East and West Coasts and spreads across pages of PNG newspapers. It’s all abstract for PNG, the idea of market crashes and bailout plans. The idea of a near two year campaign trail is also abstract for PNG and smaller countries. The elections in Holland span a single month. In Australia, where mandatory voting is implemented, the elections trail for one year. Elections in Papua New Guinea, using a rank voting system of your 1st, 2nd and 3rd choice of candidates, cannot hide corruption and often times leads to administration disputes. In Mt Hagan last week these disputes resulted in the burning of the Provincial Administration Building and bridge to the town. For my Italian friend, I can see how he is skeptical of one person bringing about change when there are new political officials elected each year in his country. But isn’t that what is great about America, our freedom and our ability to change? Not all are skeptical. My Spanish friend said she was moved to tears by Obama’s speech.
Viewing the questions of race and gender elicited by this presidential race within a developmental context intensifies its significance. CNN and their “magic wall” of touch screen statistics indicated that Obama and the Democratic Party won in less southern states than during the Clinton, Gore and Kerry campaigns. I am not a political analyst, but I believe this indicates certain levels of concern. At the election party tonight, my Italian friend critically questioned the Papua New Guineans celebrating in the streets. He challenged the idea of their celebration of a black man winning the American Presidency calling it racism. Through my eyes I see their celebration as an opportunity to dream. They see that there is a country out there --call it America-- that is filled with millions of white Christians who voted freely to elect a black man, son of a Muslim, to be their President. I see it as a promise that there is a place in the world where such a thing happens. With Obama's background, including his upbringing in Indonesia, he is able to understand the problems faced by poorer countries. This glorious epic makes America stand again as the land of extraordinary opportunity and limitless possibilities. I voted for my candidate not due to race or gender, but for the hope he inspires, the vision he shares, and the motivation for change he summons of the American people.
In a celebratory call to my best friend Dre, now living in a Blue State for the first time in her life, we chanted OBAMA! OBAMA! OBAMA! from across the Pacific! It was a wonderful moment in my life. The celebration of Barack Obama as the President Elect of the United States of America is a significant moment across the world!
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Promoting Education for All through Inclusive Education
"A dominant problem in the disability field is the lack of access to education for both children and adults with disabilities. As education is a fundamental right for all, enshrined in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, and protected through various international conventions, this is a very serious problem. In a majority of countries, there is a dramatic difference in the educational opportunities provided for disabled children and those provided for non-disabled children. It will simply not be possible to realize the goal of Education for All if we do not achieve a complete change in the situation." - Bengt Lindqvist, the United Nations Special Reporter on Human Rights and Disability
The Dakar Framework for Action adopted a World Declaration on Education for All (EFA) in 2000, which established the goal to provide every girl and boy with primary school education by 2015. It also clearly identified Inclusive Education (IE) as a key strategy for the development of EFA.
The constructs of IE is still an emergent topic. Conceptually, IE first emerged in PNG National Policy and Guidelines for Special Education in 1994 as the goal to integrate students with disabilities into mainstream schools. Despite IE becoming an increasingly familiar term it does not necessarily describe common knowledge and practice.
IE in the context of EFA is a complex issue. Disability includes an array of issues crossing health, education, social welfare, and employment sectors. Another area of complexity is the different classifications of special education needs. IE includes children who are disabled, gifted and disadvantaged (e.g., street and working children, children from remote or nomadic populations, children from linguistic, cultural, or ethnic minorities, children who have lost their parents to AIDS or civil strife) (UNESCO, 2001). This definition shifts the focus of disability from a biological deficit to disability arising from disadvantages from the environment. This is consistent with the social model of disability that is upheld by many disability rights organizations. Specifically, Inclusive Education focuses on the environment. Special and Integrated Education focuses on an individual who needs fixing-either by special schools, teachers, or treatment.
In PNG the focus has been on shifting ngo special schools into resource centres. The main roles of these centres are to provide trainings for teachers, develop and disseminate materials and teaching methods, support mainstream teachers and parents, and provide short-term (bridging) help to individual students. Another important component of these resource centres is Community Based Rehabilitation (CBR). CBR programmes provide an array of services aimed at creating inclusive communities. The coordination of CBR and IE will prepare individuals with disabilities to live and work in their communities.
Linking schools, ngos, governmental bodies and community resources involves enormous challenges. Clearly progress has been made, yet much is to be accomplished to achieve inclusive societies and Education for All through Inclusive Education.
The Dakar Framework for Action adopted a World Declaration on Education for All (EFA) in 2000, which established the goal to provide every girl and boy with primary school education by 2015. It also clearly identified Inclusive Education (IE) as a key strategy for the development of EFA.
The constructs of IE is still an emergent topic. Conceptually, IE first emerged in PNG National Policy and Guidelines for Special Education in 1994 as the goal to integrate students with disabilities into mainstream schools. Despite IE becoming an increasingly familiar term it does not necessarily describe common knowledge and practice.
IE in the context of EFA is a complex issue. Disability includes an array of issues crossing health, education, social welfare, and employment sectors. Another area of complexity is the different classifications of special education needs. IE includes children who are disabled, gifted and disadvantaged (e.g., street and working children, children from remote or nomadic populations, children from linguistic, cultural, or ethnic minorities, children who have lost their parents to AIDS or civil strife) (UNESCO, 2001). This definition shifts the focus of disability from a biological deficit to disability arising from disadvantages from the environment. This is consistent with the social model of disability that is upheld by many disability rights organizations. Specifically, Inclusive Education focuses on the environment. Special and Integrated Education focuses on an individual who needs fixing-either by special schools, teachers, or treatment.
In PNG the focus has been on shifting ngo special schools into resource centres. The main roles of these centres are to provide trainings for teachers, develop and disseminate materials and teaching methods, support mainstream teachers and parents, and provide short-term (bridging) help to individual students. Another important component of these resource centres is Community Based Rehabilitation (CBR). CBR programmes provide an array of services aimed at creating inclusive communities. The coordination of CBR and IE will prepare individuals with disabilities to live and work in their communities.
Linking schools, ngos, governmental bodies and community resources involves enormous challenges. Clearly progress has been made, yet much is to be accomplished to achieve inclusive societies and Education for All through Inclusive Education.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
The impact of my placement!
In a effort to share the impact of VSO volunteer's work, my program manager asked me to write a brief statement of some of the work I have done in my placement. I thought I would share these great successes with you too!
I have been helping to build the capacity of inclusive education teachers to transition students with disabilities into the mainstream schools. Through parent awareness and mainstream teacher trainings, 10 students with disabilities will be attending the same school as their siblings in the next school year.
A team approach to therapy at the centre. A physiotherapist, community based rehabilitation officers, and special education teacher working with a child with cerebral palsy.
Through networking efforts of the VSO volunteer, for the first time in Madang Province, the Provincial Education Department officially recognized an inclusive education training in the mainstream school. This empowered the resource teachers and motivated them to participate in additional trainings.
In addition, there has been an increase in awareness of the importance of inclusive education and a shift in ownership for the implementation of inclusive education. Trainings in inclusive education have been requested by elementary trainers in comparison to resource teachers approaching schools to offer trainings. People are beginning to request trainings and use the centre as a resource verses a "special" place to send "special" children for "special" services. A wonderful example of a shift in attitudes and beliefs!
Elementary teachers only receive 6 weeks of training. I was asked to give a one day training on inclusive education.
I have been helping to build the capacity of inclusive education teachers to transition students with disabilities into the mainstream schools. Through parent awareness and mainstream teacher trainings, 10 students with disabilities will be attending the same school as their siblings in the next school year.
A team approach to therapy at the centre. A physiotherapist, community based rehabilitation officers, and special education teacher working with a child with cerebral palsy. Through networking efforts of the VSO volunteer, for the first time in Madang Province, the Provincial Education Department officially recognized an inclusive education training in the mainstream school. This empowered the resource teachers and motivated them to participate in additional trainings.
In addition, there has been an increase in awareness of the importance of inclusive education and a shift in ownership for the implementation of inclusive education. Trainings in inclusive education have been requested by elementary trainers in comparison to resource teachers approaching schools to offer trainings. People are beginning to request trainings and use the centre as a resource verses a "special" place to send "special" children for "special" services. A wonderful example of a shift in attitudes and beliefs!
Elementary teachers only receive 6 weeks of training. I was asked to give a one day training on inclusive education.
Things that make me smile in PNG
Colorful bilums filled with babies and fruit, Lonna learning to talk and asking me “Yu go we?” each time she sees me, Corination Drive on Sundays, children’s faces spilling out of shops with ice cream covering their faces and dripping from their elbows, Sarah at the market, the old man’s big, red smile behind the buai stand on my street, flying foxes, asaro mud men, when the electricity comes back on, Mahi and her wobbly head and big, black eyes, watching children climb coconut trees, Jolanda’s sarcasm, “Yu Tok!”, when I stumble upon a good find in the second hand shops, singsings, skype chats with Dad and Carol, beautiful flowers, telling Roselyn the story of Christiana and spak buai, view of Rai Cos from Madang mainland, smelling Egyptian Goddess oil in the card Lauren sent me, rain trees, when cheese is on sale, Marleen’s obsession with Dolly Parton, watermelons, Shantica’s voice crying out “morning Charlye,” as I walk to work each morning, children jumping from the reef into the sea at Machine Gun Point, pancakes, Albert and Anna’s picture on their fridge of Bush snorting oil, books, the mural at the Creative Self Help of the boy writing with his toes, Vannessa, SP labels on my wall, full moons, cards from Mom, meri dresses, kulau.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Mt. Wilhelm
Sorry its been close to a month since I last posted. I was at a point where I found it challenging to write with an unbiased opinion. After much reflection and an inspiring holiday, I am back! I must apologize for the long entry. I will try to be more proactive in writing shorter stories more freqently.
Seasons
Monday, October20th
I just took a bucket bath for the second day in a row and the view of my tiled ceiling was no where as spectacular as the star filled Zambian sky. Can it even be called a bucket bath if you don’t have enough water to fill the bucket? The rainwater tanks at my compound have run dry. I thought we were in the rainy season, but obviously I was mistaken. PNG has two seasons, rainy and dry, but with global warming it is getting harder to distinguish the two. Seasons are more evident in the market. The avocadoes are sparse and the mangos dangle teasingly from the trees.
The watermelons are too big to carry and the tomato fruit, which was my market experiment of the week this week, will be passed on to my neighbors, possibly in exchange for water!
I was mistakenly eager for the rainy season in hopes for cooler weather, but apparently rain comes with humidity. What’s the point of a bath? I am covered in sweat before I have the chance to dry.
In the Highlands it is definitely the rainy season, and much cooler. Last week, Marleen and I hitched a ride with the education team to Kundiawa in Simbu Province. “Chimbu” as it is commonly pronounced, is 2 hours drive west of Goroka, where I went for the Goroka show last month. Simbu Province is known for PNGs tallest mountains, including Mt. Wilhelm at 4509 meters. It is also known for its pigs, coffee, strawberries, and highly temperamental emotions that lead to notorious tribal warfares. With that being said, what would be the point of going to Chimbu if you don’t experience them all?!?! Kate, the Dutch VSO volunteer living in Kundiawa, helped Marleen and I have a true Chimbu experience!
Me, Marleen and Kate...post Mt. Wilhelm!!!!
Road Trip…Kundiawa or Bust!
Saturday, October 11th
5 VSO volunteers, 1 driver, 1 guard, 1 education program manager and one 10 seater land cruiser. Cargo pressed against the windows, our knees in our chests. 8 coconuts, 3 watermelons and 300 kms ahead of us.
We left the sweltering humidity of Madang behind us as we passed New Town up the South Coast road past Gum Primary and Smelly Water. Up hills and across one lane bridges. Through pot holes so big you wonder if you can even call them potholes. Dense rainforests, traditional stilt houses, banana trees. Nickel pipelines and logging trucks. Landslides and half roads. 8 bobble heads. One changed tire.
At the turnoff, left to Lae, right to the Highlands, women sit under colorful umbrellas selling mangos. Across the road is a billboard sponsored by the Provincial AIDS council reading, The Beauty of AIDS….100% Avoidable.
As we continued driving inland we enter the Ramu Valley. The Ramu is one of PNG’s great rivers and the broad valley is filled with cattle and sugar cane and is home of the Ramu Sugar Refinery and Coconut Oil Plantation. It is also a major fault zone prone to earthquakes. Also in Ramu is the dam and source of hydro-electric power for Lae, Madang and the Highlands.
The rolling hills beyond the valley appear to be covered in turf, something like a putting green. They reminded me of the Telitubbie hills; I could imagine Tinky Winky and Po skipping along holding hands and singing Eh-Oh! I have been told these mountains are the world’s fast growing mountains as they are along the fault line.
The engine roared in low gear as we inched up the mountain. Winding roads. Cooling air. Amazing lookout over the Ramu Valley. We stopped for diesel in Kainantu (pronounced K-9-2) that is stretched along the highway. This little town has a Wild West feel about it. Close by is the PNG headquarters of SIL, Summer Institute of Linguistics. SIL is an American-founded missionary organization that translates the Bible into PNGs 800+ languages. The Lonely Planet says it’s worth visiting to see “little America” in the midst of PNG! Plus, another volunteer told me about a store there that sells all the favorite American snacks like Snickers and Hershey bars!
We stopped long enough in Goroka to enjoy lunch at the Bird of Paradise Hotel and to empty our bank accounts at the last working ATM before Mt. Wilhelm. I couldn’t resist a stroll through the bilum market. Minus 1 program manager, 1 guard, and 1 driver, we volunteers made the final 2 hour stretch to Kundiawa.
We bought a ring of everlasting flowers to place on our mirror as bilus (decoration) at the Daulo Pass. At 2489 meters, the Daulo Pass has spectacular views, but the road is dangerous. Remains of vehicles can be seen down the mountain side. Pigs roam the road. Rain covers the windshield. 4-wheel drive. Rocky edges, round huts, spirit antennas. Landslides and donated tents as makeshift homes. Fresh, crisp mountain air.
Kundiawa at last! We spilled out of the Cruiser. Stretched our arms through sweatshirts and stuffed our toes into shoes for the first time in months! 360 degrees of rugged mountains!
WaraKalap
Sunday, October 12th
While acclimatizing to the altitude for a day before our attempt at Wilhelm, we trekked to a waterfall just outside Kundiawa. Wara Kalap translates literally to “water jump.” Three white women roaming through small villages attracted quite a bit of attention and before we knew it we had an entourage of at least 15 children. These girls turned out to be very good guides. They knew the mountains and were quite nimble on their bare feet. We climbed to a lookout over where the Wara Chimbu (Simbu River) and Wahgi River meet. Although the rapids are intense, you find Nationals rafting down the rivers. It was a memorable afternoon.
Getting there……..
Monday, October 13th
After searching the blue tarp market for gloves and enjoying real coffee at a proper coffee shop, we found ourselves piled into the back of a truck. Along with 12 other people, we headed up the mountain to Kegsugl, the last village before Mt. Wilhelm. During the wet season (which we were in) the road to Kegsugl closes at times due to dangerous conditions. It’s 57 km along a razorback road that has to be seen to believe. The 4-hour, tedious and body jarring drive is along the edges of the mountains and through high-altitude villages. These people are literally ‘livin’ on the edge!” The views are fantastic and the landscapes dramatic. The people have transformed their steep, rugged countryside into a patchwork of gardens. Up every possible hillside the Chimbu have turned impossible terrain into beautiful vegetable and flower gardens. I was simply amazed by their strength and agility.
This wouldn’t be a proper PNG story if it didn’t include a tale of our truck breaking down. Not exactly sure what happened, my Pisin isn’t exactly fluent, but I believe the driver mistakenly put wiper fluid in the engine! Noken wori, liklik sumting! An hour later we continued our slow climb up the seemingly endless saw-tooth mountains. We passed limestone caves which were used as burial places, roaring rapids, impressive waterfalls and countless pigs. Roofs and fence posts are topped with “spirit anteneas” as Maarten, a Dutch VSO vol called them. These decorative tufts or clumps of dirt and plants are placed around homes for the spirits to talk to each other and hear the village secrets.
Just before dusk we passed the no longer used Kugsugl airstrip and made our way to Camp J.J. We ate a dinner of fresh trout and huddled near the stove to warm our bodies before we crawled into our sleeping bags.
The Summit…..
Tuesday, October 14th
With our bags packed with food and gear and the morning sun warming our faces, we met our guides outside the camp. As we crossed the bridge, our journey to Papua New Guinea’s tallest mountain began! For many, climbing to the summit of Mt Wilhelm is the highlight of their experience in PNG. From the top you can see both coasts. The climb is hard work and most stop over at the Pindaunde Lakes before making the final ascent. Like most, we planned to arrive at the Lakes, camp and start off in the black of early morning to see the sunrise and coasts before the clouds roll in. From the beginning I was a bit skeptical of this plan. I am not a fan of climbing on tracks that are not visible, especially when you add the element of rain. However, I was motivated by the thought of seeing both coasts ….that and overcoming the skeptics who thought I couldn’t make the 4 hour climb to the Lakes, which sit at 3500 meters.
The uneven tree planks placed across the path were wet and slippery. After ten minutes of steady, uphill climbing, we had stripped off our hats and top 3 layers of clothes. The first half of the trek was through dense forest with moss cover trees and singing birds of paradise. Marleen, who always has a song in her head, kept us motivated by singing “Take Your Time, Do It Right” by the SOS Band. When our breathing became heavy and our steps slower I could hear her singing, “You can do baby, do it tonight.” It made me laugh and continue to put one foot in front of the other.
We all appreciated the rest stops along the way. We filled our bottles with fresh mountain water and Kate tossed us candy. Our first lookout point was over the Kegsugl airstrip. The second half of the trek was through a less dense area that reminded me of a Jurassic Park movie. I expected T-Rex to tower over the mountains at any given moment. The fern trees and topography emitted a pre-historic scene.
The last leg of the trek to the Lakes was the steepest and most rugged terrain along a waterfall. By this point my legs were getting tired. My thighs ached each time I lifted them. John, the guide “pulling up the rear,” kept repeating “Wokabut isi” (Walk slowly). I knew the Lakes were the source of the waterfall, not much further to climb.
The view from the top was breathtaking…or was it the altitude, or maybe the climb!?! Either way, I made it to 3500 meters! And then I collapsed and enjoyed the beauty of the lakes with a panoramic view of white waterfalls contrasted against black mountains.
As we sat near the edge of the lake and watched the clouds roll in, Kate shared stories of her first two attempts up Mt. Wilhelm. During her first attempt, she did not make it due to altitude sickness. Less than half way to the summit she began vomiting. She trained for several months before her second attempt. Shit! Maybe I should have thought about training…too late now! She made it to the summit on her second attempt, but several others in her group weren’t as successful. One decided to remain at the Lakes and another nearly fell to his death during the descent. Shit! Maybe I should have taken this a bit more seriously…it’s not too late!
With the clouds came rain and it did not cease. It was very cold, wet, foggy and windy. That night while shivering in my sleeping bag listening to the rain pound the tin roof of the board hut, I made my decision. I decided I had accomplished a big goal by reaching the Lakes and that it would be best if I trained properly before making the final ascent to Mt Wilhelm at 4509 meters. And let’s be honest, the thought of climbing 5 hours in the dark, through the rain with weak, untrained legs was a bit frightening. Mi bai wokabut long Mt Wilhelm narapela taim.
Marleen and Kate made the ascent to the top at sunrise and saw the Lae Coast!
The descent….
October 15th
The bush path was soggy and covered in pine needles; my boots sank with each step. Our ponchos swishing rhythmically with our strides. We returned to Camp JJ in 2 hours. With a bribe of 20kina, the driver agreed to take us down the mountain despite the road conditions. Along the way we stopped to pick fresh strawberries. Marleen was singing the Beatle hit Strawberry Fields Forever.
I felt like I was in a royal parade, waving to the people. At one point we slowed to a rolling stop. People begin running toward the truck. Marleen and I continued waving to our crowd. Things happened fast and I was a bit confused. I thought we were stopping at the village market. The driver started fish tailing. Were we stuck? Were the people running to help push the truck carrying the white women? We continued to wave. The driver sped away slinging mud in their faces. It was then that I realized those weren’t the faces of people who were running to help; they were the faces of tribal warfare carrying bush knives shouting “Fight, Fight!”
At the next village we picked up a woman and two pigs. Pigs are one of the most important things in Highland life. I have heard stories of Highland women nursing piglets, but I had never seen it myself. This woman was interesting. Not only did she keep two piglets in her shirt, she also spoke to the clouds. As we rode along in the back of the truck with our ponchos wrapped around us protecting our half mashed strawberries, this pig woman was throwing her arms in the air pushing the clouds away (similar to the ‘raise the roof’ move). She was spitting some chant in her local dialect which made seem even more magical.
The entire week was spectacular if not magical. I felt like I had a true experience of Chimbu culture complete with mountains, waterfalls, pigs, coffee, strawberries and tribal customs.
Seasons
Monday, October20th
I just took a bucket bath for the second day in a row and the view of my tiled ceiling was no where as spectacular as the star filled Zambian sky. Can it even be called a bucket bath if you don’t have enough water to fill the bucket? The rainwater tanks at my compound have run dry. I thought we were in the rainy season, but obviously I was mistaken. PNG has two seasons, rainy and dry, but with global warming it is getting harder to distinguish the two. Seasons are more evident in the market. The avocadoes are sparse and the mangos dangle teasingly from the trees.
The watermelons are too big to carry and the tomato fruit, which was my market experiment of the week this week, will be passed on to my neighbors, possibly in exchange for water! I was mistakenly eager for the rainy season in hopes for cooler weather, but apparently rain comes with humidity. What’s the point of a bath? I am covered in sweat before I have the chance to dry.
In the Highlands it is definitely the rainy season, and much cooler. Last week, Marleen and I hitched a ride with the education team to Kundiawa in Simbu Province. “Chimbu” as it is commonly pronounced, is 2 hours drive west of Goroka, where I went for the Goroka show last month. Simbu Province is known for PNGs tallest mountains, including Mt. Wilhelm at 4509 meters. It is also known for its pigs, coffee, strawberries, and highly temperamental emotions that lead to notorious tribal warfares. With that being said, what would be the point of going to Chimbu if you don’t experience them all?!?! Kate, the Dutch VSO volunteer living in Kundiawa, helped Marleen and I have a true Chimbu experience!
Me, Marleen and Kate...post Mt. Wilhelm!!!! Road Trip…Kundiawa or Bust!
Saturday, October 11th
5 VSO volunteers, 1 driver, 1 guard, 1 education program manager and one 10 seater land cruiser. Cargo pressed against the windows, our knees in our chests. 8 coconuts, 3 watermelons and 300 kms ahead of us.
We left the sweltering humidity of Madang behind us as we passed New Town up the South Coast road past Gum Primary and Smelly Water. Up hills and across one lane bridges. Through pot holes so big you wonder if you can even call them potholes. Dense rainforests, traditional stilt houses, banana trees. Nickel pipelines and logging trucks. Landslides and half roads. 8 bobble heads. One changed tire.
At the turnoff, left to Lae, right to the Highlands, women sit under colorful umbrellas selling mangos. Across the road is a billboard sponsored by the Provincial AIDS council reading, The Beauty of AIDS….100% Avoidable.
As we continued driving inland we enter the Ramu Valley. The Ramu is one of PNG’s great rivers and the broad valley is filled with cattle and sugar cane and is home of the Ramu Sugar Refinery and Coconut Oil Plantation. It is also a major fault zone prone to earthquakes. Also in Ramu is the dam and source of hydro-electric power for Lae, Madang and the Highlands.
The rolling hills beyond the valley appear to be covered in turf, something like a putting green. They reminded me of the Telitubbie hills; I could imagine Tinky Winky and Po skipping along holding hands and singing Eh-Oh! I have been told these mountains are the world’s fast growing mountains as they are along the fault line.
The engine roared in low gear as we inched up the mountain. Winding roads. Cooling air. Amazing lookout over the Ramu Valley. We stopped for diesel in Kainantu (pronounced K-9-2) that is stretched along the highway. This little town has a Wild West feel about it. Close by is the PNG headquarters of SIL, Summer Institute of Linguistics. SIL is an American-founded missionary organization that translates the Bible into PNGs 800+ languages. The Lonely Planet says it’s worth visiting to see “little America” in the midst of PNG! Plus, another volunteer told me about a store there that sells all the favorite American snacks like Snickers and Hershey bars!
We stopped long enough in Goroka to enjoy lunch at the Bird of Paradise Hotel and to empty our bank accounts at the last working ATM before Mt. Wilhelm. I couldn’t resist a stroll through the bilum market. Minus 1 program manager, 1 guard, and 1 driver, we volunteers made the final 2 hour stretch to Kundiawa.
We bought a ring of everlasting flowers to place on our mirror as bilus (decoration) at the Daulo Pass. At 2489 meters, the Daulo Pass has spectacular views, but the road is dangerous. Remains of vehicles can be seen down the mountain side. Pigs roam the road. Rain covers the windshield. 4-wheel drive. Rocky edges, round huts, spirit antennas. Landslides and donated tents as makeshift homes. Fresh, crisp mountain air.
Kundiawa at last! We spilled out of the Cruiser. Stretched our arms through sweatshirts and stuffed our toes into shoes for the first time in months! 360 degrees of rugged mountains!
WaraKalap
Sunday, October 12th
While acclimatizing to the altitude for a day before our attempt at Wilhelm, we trekked to a waterfall just outside Kundiawa. Wara Kalap translates literally to “water jump.” Three white women roaming through small villages attracted quite a bit of attention and before we knew it we had an entourage of at least 15 children. These girls turned out to be very good guides. They knew the mountains and were quite nimble on their bare feet. We climbed to a lookout over where the Wara Chimbu (Simbu River) and Wahgi River meet. Although the rapids are intense, you find Nationals rafting down the rivers. It was a memorable afternoon.
Getting there……..
Monday, October 13th
After searching the blue tarp market for gloves and enjoying real coffee at a proper coffee shop, we found ourselves piled into the back of a truck. Along with 12 other people, we headed up the mountain to Kegsugl, the last village before Mt. Wilhelm. During the wet season (which we were in) the road to Kegsugl closes at times due to dangerous conditions. It’s 57 km along a razorback road that has to be seen to believe. The 4-hour, tedious and body jarring drive is along the edges of the mountains and through high-altitude villages. These people are literally ‘livin’ on the edge!” The views are fantastic and the landscapes dramatic. The people have transformed their steep, rugged countryside into a patchwork of gardens. Up every possible hillside the Chimbu have turned impossible terrain into beautiful vegetable and flower gardens. I was simply amazed by their strength and agility.
This wouldn’t be a proper PNG story if it didn’t include a tale of our truck breaking down. Not exactly sure what happened, my Pisin isn’t exactly fluent, but I believe the driver mistakenly put wiper fluid in the engine! Noken wori, liklik sumting! An hour later we continued our slow climb up the seemingly endless saw-tooth mountains. We passed limestone caves which were used as burial places, roaring rapids, impressive waterfalls and countless pigs. Roofs and fence posts are topped with “spirit anteneas” as Maarten, a Dutch VSO vol called them. These decorative tufts or clumps of dirt and plants are placed around homes for the spirits to talk to each other and hear the village secrets.
Just before dusk we passed the no longer used Kugsugl airstrip and made our way to Camp J.J. We ate a dinner of fresh trout and huddled near the stove to warm our bodies before we crawled into our sleeping bags.
The Summit…..
Tuesday, October 14th
With our bags packed with food and gear and the morning sun warming our faces, we met our guides outside the camp. As we crossed the bridge, our journey to Papua New Guinea’s tallest mountain began! For many, climbing to the summit of Mt Wilhelm is the highlight of their experience in PNG. From the top you can see both coasts. The climb is hard work and most stop over at the Pindaunde Lakes before making the final ascent. Like most, we planned to arrive at the Lakes, camp and start off in the black of early morning to see the sunrise and coasts before the clouds roll in. From the beginning I was a bit skeptical of this plan. I am not a fan of climbing on tracks that are not visible, especially when you add the element of rain. However, I was motivated by the thought of seeing both coasts ….that and overcoming the skeptics who thought I couldn’t make the 4 hour climb to the Lakes, which sit at 3500 meters.
The uneven tree planks placed across the path were wet and slippery. After ten minutes of steady, uphill climbing, we had stripped off our hats and top 3 layers of clothes. The first half of the trek was through dense forest with moss cover trees and singing birds of paradise. Marleen, who always has a song in her head, kept us motivated by singing “Take Your Time, Do It Right” by the SOS Band. When our breathing became heavy and our steps slower I could hear her singing, “You can do baby, do it tonight.” It made me laugh and continue to put one foot in front of the other.
We all appreciated the rest stops along the way. We filled our bottles with fresh mountain water and Kate tossed us candy. Our first lookout point was over the Kegsugl airstrip. The second half of the trek was through a less dense area that reminded me of a Jurassic Park movie. I expected T-Rex to tower over the mountains at any given moment. The fern trees and topography emitted a pre-historic scene.
The last leg of the trek to the Lakes was the steepest and most rugged terrain along a waterfall. By this point my legs were getting tired. My thighs ached each time I lifted them. John, the guide “pulling up the rear,” kept repeating “Wokabut isi” (Walk slowly). I knew the Lakes were the source of the waterfall, not much further to climb.
The view from the top was breathtaking…or was it the altitude, or maybe the climb!?! Either way, I made it to 3500 meters! And then I collapsed and enjoyed the beauty of the lakes with a panoramic view of white waterfalls contrasted against black mountains.
As we sat near the edge of the lake and watched the clouds roll in, Kate shared stories of her first two attempts up Mt. Wilhelm. During her first attempt, she did not make it due to altitude sickness. Less than half way to the summit she began vomiting. She trained for several months before her second attempt. Shit! Maybe I should have thought about training…too late now! She made it to the summit on her second attempt, but several others in her group weren’t as successful. One decided to remain at the Lakes and another nearly fell to his death during the descent. Shit! Maybe I should have taken this a bit more seriously…it’s not too late!
With the clouds came rain and it did not cease. It was very cold, wet, foggy and windy. That night while shivering in my sleeping bag listening to the rain pound the tin roof of the board hut, I made my decision. I decided I had accomplished a big goal by reaching the Lakes and that it would be best if I trained properly before making the final ascent to Mt Wilhelm at 4509 meters. And let’s be honest, the thought of climbing 5 hours in the dark, through the rain with weak, untrained legs was a bit frightening. Mi bai wokabut long Mt Wilhelm narapela taim.
Marleen and Kate made the ascent to the top at sunrise and saw the Lae Coast!
The descent….
October 15th
The bush path was soggy and covered in pine needles; my boots sank with each step. Our ponchos swishing rhythmically with our strides. We returned to Camp JJ in 2 hours. With a bribe of 20kina, the driver agreed to take us down the mountain despite the road conditions. Along the way we stopped to pick fresh strawberries. Marleen was singing the Beatle hit Strawberry Fields Forever.
I felt like I was in a royal parade, waving to the people. At one point we slowed to a rolling stop. People begin running toward the truck. Marleen and I continued waving to our crowd. Things happened fast and I was a bit confused. I thought we were stopping at the village market. The driver started fish tailing. Were we stuck? Were the people running to help push the truck carrying the white women? We continued to wave. The driver sped away slinging mud in their faces. It was then that I realized those weren’t the faces of people who were running to help; they were the faces of tribal warfare carrying bush knives shouting “Fight, Fight!”
At the next village we picked up a woman and two pigs. Pigs are one of the most important things in Highland life. I have heard stories of Highland women nursing piglets, but I had never seen it myself. This woman was interesting. Not only did she keep two piglets in her shirt, she also spoke to the clouds. As we rode along in the back of the truck with our ponchos wrapped around us protecting our half mashed strawberries, this pig woman was throwing her arms in the air pushing the clouds away (similar to the ‘raise the roof’ move). She was spitting some chant in her local dialect which made seem even more magical.
The entire week was spectacular if not magical. I felt like I had a true experience of Chimbu culture complete with mountains, waterfalls, pigs, coffee, strawberries and tribal customs.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
My visit to Sier Village
During the school holiday between terms, I visited my friend and wanwok (literally translated as "one work")Roselyn and her two children, Stephanie and Dunstan. It all started with a trip to the market to by cooking bananas, yams and kumu (greens. Next we sat at the water's edge and waited for the boat to take us to the island. I have to admit, this was one of the most scary things I have experienced here in PNG. The small motor boat was overloaded with people and their bags of food from the market. The boat was literally two inches above the water. I counted 26 people. I was certain the boat would sink!
The skipper decided that I needed a tour of the islands and he dropped us off last. The sea was calm between the islands and my fears of capsizing lessened. We slowly puttered from island to island and listened to the skipper's orders to shift our weight to help balance the boat. One by one the passengers would exit the boat and wade through the cyrstal clear water carrying their bags filled with yams, bananas and tinned fish on their heads.
It was refreshing to leave the mainland. I appreciated the peacefulness of the village. I sat on Roselyn's veranda overlooking the sea and wrote letters home to my grandmothers. I sat in the green grass under a mango tree and ate papaya with the women and children of Roselyn's village.
Roselyn is renting her house from a family for 100 kina a week. She struggles to make rent on her salary (it's almost 3 days salary for me).
Dunston starting the fire for dinner.
I was surprised by the beauty of this "urban village" as she calls it. Dunston and I searched for fishing bait in the creek. Stephanie and I climbed trees for a fruit she said were cheeries, but they tasted more like plums to me.
The island was filled with colorful flowers and shrubs.
The island was filled with tropical fruit trees (banana, guava, papaya, coconut, buai and mango). We were surrounded by more fruit than we could ever eat.
Stephanie and her double hybiscus.
Traditional yam house, the staple food of the islands.
On my next visit, the women are teaching me to row in a traditional canoe! I plan to make many more trips to Sier Island!
The skipper decided that I needed a tour of the islands and he dropped us off last. The sea was calm between the islands and my fears of capsizing lessened. We slowly puttered from island to island and listened to the skipper's orders to shift our weight to help balance the boat. One by one the passengers would exit the boat and wade through the cyrstal clear water carrying their bags filled with yams, bananas and tinned fish on their heads.
It was refreshing to leave the mainland. I appreciated the peacefulness of the village. I sat on Roselyn's veranda overlooking the sea and wrote letters home to my grandmothers. I sat in the green grass under a mango tree and ate papaya with the women and children of Roselyn's village.
Roselyn is renting her house from a family for 100 kina a week. She struggles to make rent on her salary (it's almost 3 days salary for me).
Dunston starting the fire for dinner.I was surprised by the beauty of this "urban village" as she calls it. Dunston and I searched for fishing bait in the creek. Stephanie and I climbed trees for a fruit she said were cheeries, but they tasted more like plums to me.
The island was filled with colorful flowers and shrubs.
The island was filled with tropical fruit trees (banana, guava, papaya, coconut, buai and mango). We were surrounded by more fruit than we could ever eat.
Stephanie and her double hybiscus.
Traditional yam house, the staple food of the islands.On my next visit, the women are teaching me to row in a traditional canoe! I plan to make many more trips to Sier Island!
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
All these questions….
Have four months already past? Is it possible that I am beginning to settle in and am able to understand more? Or have I only begun to realize that I know and understand very little? Has my understanding of developmental aid work grown? How have my perceptions changed? Mother Theresa, I understand that the ocean would be less because of that one missing drop, but what happens when our drops evaporate before they even reach the ocean? What change will I effect if I pour my half empty glass in the ocean? Am I thinking this way because I am on the downward slide of the emotional roller coaster that most developmental aid workers go through?
Why has my perception changed? I’ve seen containers of books donated. The disappointment was when the boxes were finally opened they were filled with termites. Clients are waiting for wheelchairs, schools for computers and after months and months of anticipation they finally arrive broken. Workshops are planned, hundreds of workbooks printed, teachers walk for hours from the villages and the facilitator is stuck in Moresby because the flight was cancelled. Computers and sewing machines arrived at a school and were broken within the first day because the users were not appropriately trained. How do the Papua New Guineans respond? Nokem wori (don’t worry), another organization will come tomorrow and bring us a new one.
What are the effects of developmental aid on this country? Have they developed learned helplessness? Have Papua New Guineans been conditioned to think that the white man will always bring cargo? What do they think when they watch one white man after another come in and change the things that the previous white man did before him? Are they learning and applying any new skills? Are they motivated to change? Do they even want change? Are they interested in improving themselves and their country? Do all developing countries face these challenges? Or are these situational circumstances for PNG alone due to the uniqueness of this country?
What will I accomplish during my time here? Will anyone apply the skills I share? Are my expectations too high? How do you measure success? Is it if I truly reach one teacher? Why is VSO asking me to do partnership reviews when I haven’t even had my in-country orientation yet? Is VSO more efficient in other countries? Will I be able to accomplish more or gain more skills if I stay here two years verses one? Can I meet my placement goals in 8 more months? Why don’t I feel connected to PNG? Is it because I am in an urban placement and have limited connection with the most vulnerable people? Why do I feel like a tourist? Should I feel guilty for living the expat lifestyle? Is it bad that I feel like I am on an extended vacation?
These are questions I ask myself everyday. I was once told that finding questions is often times better than finding answers. By asking myself these questions I have decided not to continue my placement beyond one year. PNG is a spectacular country and I am in no hurry to leave. I feel that I will be able to give and take away all that I can in one year; therefore, I have no intentions to stay.
Why has my perception changed? I’ve seen containers of books donated. The disappointment was when the boxes were finally opened they were filled with termites. Clients are waiting for wheelchairs, schools for computers and after months and months of anticipation they finally arrive broken. Workshops are planned, hundreds of workbooks printed, teachers walk for hours from the villages and the facilitator is stuck in Moresby because the flight was cancelled. Computers and sewing machines arrived at a school and were broken within the first day because the users were not appropriately trained. How do the Papua New Guineans respond? Nokem wori (don’t worry), another organization will come tomorrow and bring us a new one.
What are the effects of developmental aid on this country? Have they developed learned helplessness? Have Papua New Guineans been conditioned to think that the white man will always bring cargo? What do they think when they watch one white man after another come in and change the things that the previous white man did before him? Are they learning and applying any new skills? Are they motivated to change? Do they even want change? Are they interested in improving themselves and their country? Do all developing countries face these challenges? Or are these situational circumstances for PNG alone due to the uniqueness of this country?
What will I accomplish during my time here? Will anyone apply the skills I share? Are my expectations too high? How do you measure success? Is it if I truly reach one teacher? Why is VSO asking me to do partnership reviews when I haven’t even had my in-country orientation yet? Is VSO more efficient in other countries? Will I be able to accomplish more or gain more skills if I stay here two years verses one? Can I meet my placement goals in 8 more months? Why don’t I feel connected to PNG? Is it because I am in an urban placement and have limited connection with the most vulnerable people? Why do I feel like a tourist? Should I feel guilty for living the expat lifestyle? Is it bad that I feel like I am on an extended vacation?
These are questions I ask myself everyday. I was once told that finding questions is often times better than finding answers. By asking myself these questions I have decided not to continue my placement beyond one year. PNG is a spectacular country and I am in no hurry to leave. I feel that I will be able to give and take away all that I can in one year; therefore, I have no intentions to stay.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Eastern Highlands-Goroka Show
Tuesday PNG celebrated its 33rd year of independence. Many Papua New Guineans and tourists flock to the Eastern Highlands Province for the Goroka Show. The Goroka Show is considered the best singsing festival in the highlands and it is held annually during the Independence Day weekend. The Lonely Planet says the costumes alone rival Rio de Janeiro at Carnivale time! I have been to the Madang Festival as well as the Divine Word University Cultural Show and by far the Goroka Show was the best yet. Highlanders are skilled in decorating themselves with traditional costumes and elaborate face paintings.
Among my favorite singsing groups are the Asaro Mud Men. These warrior men traditionally cover themselves in grey mud and wear big mud masks. In stark contrast to the high energy dancing and singing of the other singsings, the mud men walked in a slow, deliberate manner. It reminded me of that creepy feeling you get when watching the “bad guy” sneak up on the victim in a scary movie.
Apart from the costumes and endless supplies of woven bilums, we enjoyed traditional mamboo and trekking up the majestic mountains.
Bill, a physiotherapist at Goroka Hospital, preparing the mamboo
Of course I had to get my hands into things!
The Highlands, as described by Lonely Planet, are dramatic and beautiful, with wide, fertile valleys, streams and rivers, and seemingly endless, saw-toothed mountains. It is also the most densely populated and agriculturally productive region of PNG. The highlands are made up of a series of valleys and rugged intervening mountains that form the watershed for some of the world’s largest rivers, including the Ramu and Sepik.
Typical Highlands Village hut!Goroka is the main town of the Eastern Highlands Province as well as the center of PNG’s coffee industry.
.....to be continued when I get more internet time! Life in the developing world eh?!?! I have soooo many wonderful pics that I hope to be able to upload :)
Friday, September 5, 2008
Wantoks
Divine Word University Cultural ShowAs an American in PNG, all other Americans here are my wantoks. Wantoks are members of your clan. They may include your family and those persons from where you live. The wantok system plays a significant role in PNG culture.
The system has both positive and negative effects. Wantoks provide for one another and maintain strong clan relationships. A member of the clan that does well for him/herself faces the pressures and strains of countless requests from wantoks. They may ask for money, food, jobs, school fees, place to stay, or even to care for their children. The system becomes complicated and dangerous at times. If a person feels that you have wronged them in anyway, they will often times gather their wantoks for retaliation. And retaliation in PNG usually involves serious injury or death by bush knives. If you happen to hit a dog, person, or a pig with your car you do not stop due to the threat of your life being taken, especially if you hit a pig. A VSO volunteer’s flash drive was stolen. A PNG woman found it and requested a reward. The volunteer gave the woman a cash reward; however, the woman wanted more and threatened to return with her wantoks.
Additionally, this is a problem with positions in government and other job placements. A teacher at the Creative Self Help Centre is frequently truant from work, physically assaulted another teacher, and reportedly stole the centre’s car. But because he has a wantok in an administrative position in the Department of Education, the centre’s coordinator refuses to enforce consequences due to rational fears of retaliation. Last week, a man came to the centre looking for this teacher because he owed him money. The teacher refused to pay him so the man threatened to return to the centre with his wantoks armed with bush knives. Due to the high prevalence of clan fighting often times resulting in death, these threats are not taken lightly.
As I said, the wantok system has positive aspects as well. If you are ever in need you know that your wontoks are there for you. Being so far from home it is comforting to be able to speak to wantoks. I feel a sense of familiarity, connection and understanding. Each time a white person comes over my neighbor asks “Em wantok bilong yu?” (Is she/he from your clan?) Having wantoks is important. I have met several of my wantoks here in Madang. On my birthday, Heidi and Jim, who came to PNG with Peace Corps years ago, gave me beautiful flowers from their botanical garden. A VSO volunteer, Pam, who works on KarKar Island met a group of Stanford University students who were there teaching English during their summer break. They were planning to visit Madang for a few weeks before heading back to the States, so Pam made the wantok connection. While I was in Lae, Jessica and Dani stayed in my apartment. That’s what wantoks do for one another!
I was in Lae for a workshop held by the special education department targeting the country’s “new” curriculum reform, Outcomes-Based Education (OBE). I use quotations around the word new because OBE was introduced at the National level several years ago; however, as generally so in developing countries, the reform policy has not yet reached the local level. Lae is in Morobe Province, which is described by the Lonely Planet as “the industrial heart of PNG and the gateway to the Highlands.” Lae is PNG’s second largest city after the capital Port Moresby. Although Lae is an industrial base surrounded by container ships and known to most as “rainy Lae” or “pothole Lae,” the city is laid out around beautiful Botanical Gardens. It also boasts one of the best places in PNG to see wildlife without trekking up mountains through the dense bush. While visiting the Rainforest Habitat, I saw tree kangaroos, salt water crocodiles, birds of paradise, and the world’s largest pigeon. Among my favorite birds was a parrot who, when approached, would say, “Give me kaikai, give me kaikai.” (Kaikai is food in the Pidgin language). I also saw one of PNG’s most dangerous creatures, the cassowary. Don’t let the beauty of these huge birds, similar to ostriches, fool you. They have been known to rip through people’s rib cages with their razor sharp talons.
The Rainforest Habitat in Lae. Jolly and Bernard, 2 VSO physiotherapists and Martin, who works for NOPS National Orthopedic and Prosthetics Services. Martin made his own prosthesis and drove us all around "Rainy Lae."
The World's Largest PigeonI met a bigpela (important) wantok last weekend at Divine Word University’s Cultural Show. While walking through the crowds of Papua New Guineans performing their traditional singsings, I met the American Ambassador, Leslie Rowe. We stood under my umbrella and spoke over the sounds of drumming and singing about my work here as well as my experience in Zambia with the Peace Corps. Her husband was a Peace Corps volunteer and they are advocating for Peace Corps to return to PNG. We were unable to chat a length as we were quickly pushed aside by a group of marching Highlanders with their faces painted as elaborately as the colorful bird of paradise feathers on their heads.
Thanks to the column I write in my hometown newspaper, The Robertson County Times, I met another wantok yesterday. I was shopping for bicycles at Papindo department store. Well, actually it was my third visit to Papindo to get a bike. Each day I left with various promises. Yes, we will make the fitting adjustments and have it for you by tomorrow. Yes, we will replace the bent rims. The third day, I gave up and took matters into my own hands. While the three customer service guys and I were removing the bikes one by one from the wall to find the one that had the least bent rims, a woman approached me. “Excuse me, do you know a (insert botched pronunciation of Charlye here) from Tennessee?” I guess it is a small world after all. This wontok is from Springfield! Her mother read my column in the paper and sent it to her. Who would have ever thought that I would meet someone from Springfield in Papua New Guinea? She is here with her family as missionaries. They will be living in the world’s largest missionary compound for 4 years.
Mi got plenti wantoks bilong mi long Madang! Mi hammamas tru! (I have a lot of wantoks here in Madang! I am very happy!)
I would like to give a shout out to a few of my wantoks back home. Thanks Mom, I received your package filled with goodies (only 2 weeks shipping time, a lot faster than in Zambia eh?). Uncle Mark, I was so excited when I read your comment on this blog! It really means a lot to me that you are taking the time to read and letting me know you are thinking of me. I am thinking of you too and I hope you are taking care of yourself. Dre, what would I do without our weekly gchats? You really help me stay connected to real life back home and remind me of who I am! And to everyone who has sent emails, cards and who have commented on this blog, thank you! You help to keep a smile on my face on the days that aren't filled with sunshine and beaches :)
Thursday, August 21, 2008
The Return of the Flying Foxes!
They're back! After 2 weeks Madang's flying foxes have returned to their spot high in the rain trees. Their disappearance continues to be a mystery. More and more rumors and theories have been spread across Madang. In addition to all the others I mentioned previously, some people suggest that the bats left due to a food shortage. Others believe Air Niugini sprayed some chemical in the air that forced them to leave. Some say the spirits from the singsings of the Madang festival drove them away. The most common and sensible explaination for their disappearance is the frequent but small earthquakes Madang experienced.
Madang's icon is back! The town felt so strange without the flying foxes. Their familiar squeals bring a since of comfort to me. I will not walk under a rain tree without looking up in appreciation.
Air Niugini-where the unexpected is expected!
The Madang Air Niugini Airport is a samll, but busy place. The planes taxi right up to the one-room building where check-in is located in one corner and baggage claim the other. Wooden benches that remind me of an old southern church are arranged in the middle of the room. Directly behind them is the "Kiosk and Gift Shop" where you can top up your mobile phone, drink a cold Coca-Cola and feast on as many flour balls as you desire. My ears continue to ring from the powerful sounds of the plane engine. It's 10:10 and the 8:30 flight to Port Morseby just departed. I now sit alone on the hard, wodden bench waiting for my 9:20 plane coming from Wewak to arrive. I will fly to Mt. Hagan and make the connection to Lae. The flight schedule is written in blue marker on a dry erase board behind the check-in counter....not that it helps!
While waiting for the Moresby passengers to board, I sat next to a handsome man from Fiji. He was travelling home after a year abroad a yacht working as a chef. He is among 13 other crew members from all over the world. It's an American yacht that holds 15 passengers in addition to the 14 member crew. The yacht will be headed for China and eventually back to South Africa. The chef said the American owners typically decline the food prepared by the villages they visit. They usually eat fresh fish caught at sea and food flown in from the States or Australia.
Our conversation was facinating. Before joining the crew, he worked in Fiji with a ngo creating awareness on sexual orientation. He identifies himself as a gay man who is advocating for the rights of the gay, lesbian, and bi-sexual communities of the Pacific. We had an interesting conversation on this topic which lead into gender equality and violence against these vulnerable groups including those with disabilities. He mentioned he wanted to continue his studies in psychology to counsel persons in these vulnerable groups. He was very refreshing!
Still no sign of the plane from Wewak. Reportedly the pilot is out sick and they are waiting on another plane. So typical Air Niugini! While waiting I met a man from Australia who is here starting a gold mining buisness. Our ideals did not allign. He arrogantly stated that he found a way to motivate the people of this rural village where he will be exploiting their land. He is promising them all big screen TVs so they can watch football (that's soccer in the US..haha!)! As our conversation continued, I told him about my work as a volunteer here in PNG targeting children with disabilities. The arrogance in his voice wasn't as prodominant as it was during the talk of gold and widescreens! "The gold digger" as I like to call him, mentioned that the people in the village did state that their children were unable to go to school and that the nearest teacher was a 9 hour hike up and down mountains. I took advantage of the situation and spoke about my project in Zambia developing community schools and helping communities with income generating activities to pay a teacher's salary. The "gold digger" was intrigued by the project and his focused changed from football and broadband access to the education of vulnerable children. Without trying to be too leading I suggested that since the community identified the education of their children as a major concern, he may consider offering to build schools and pay teacher salaries verses bringing big screen TVs powered by generators into bush material houses. It just amazes me how completely out of touch some people are with the realities of poverty. Does he really think television and soccer will bring happiness to this village? Hopefully our conservation will weigh heavy in his mind and lead to positive changes in a village in rural PNG.
The great thing about airports are the conversations you have with people from everywhere coming and going anywhere! My flight has been cancelled and redirected. I will now fly to Port Moresby at 4:00 and then to Lae tomorrow. The only advantage of the constant cancellations of Air Niugini flights is that they put you up in posh hotels! So, I now have the opportunity to see the capital again and possibly stay in the 5 Star hotel I stayed in when I first arrived in PNG. That means I get a seafood buffet dinner, white robe and slippers, and a television! I guess TV does bring happiness!!!
While waiting for the Moresby passengers to board, I sat next to a handsome man from Fiji. He was travelling home after a year abroad a yacht working as a chef. He is among 13 other crew members from all over the world. It's an American yacht that holds 15 passengers in addition to the 14 member crew. The yacht will be headed for China and eventually back to South Africa. The chef said the American owners typically decline the food prepared by the villages they visit. They usually eat fresh fish caught at sea and food flown in from the States or Australia.
Our conversation was facinating. Before joining the crew, he worked in Fiji with a ngo creating awareness on sexual orientation. He identifies himself as a gay man who is advocating for the rights of the gay, lesbian, and bi-sexual communities of the Pacific. We had an interesting conversation on this topic which lead into gender equality and violence against these vulnerable groups including those with disabilities. He mentioned he wanted to continue his studies in psychology to counsel persons in these vulnerable groups. He was very refreshing!
Still no sign of the plane from Wewak. Reportedly the pilot is out sick and they are waiting on another plane. So typical Air Niugini! While waiting I met a man from Australia who is here starting a gold mining buisness. Our ideals did not allign. He arrogantly stated that he found a way to motivate the people of this rural village where he will be exploiting their land. He is promising them all big screen TVs so they can watch football (that's soccer in the US..haha!)! As our conversation continued, I told him about my work as a volunteer here in PNG targeting children with disabilities. The arrogance in his voice wasn't as prodominant as it was during the talk of gold and widescreens! "The gold digger" as I like to call him, mentioned that the people in the village did state that their children were unable to go to school and that the nearest teacher was a 9 hour hike up and down mountains. I took advantage of the situation and spoke about my project in Zambia developing community schools and helping communities with income generating activities to pay a teacher's salary. The "gold digger" was intrigued by the project and his focused changed from football and broadband access to the education of vulnerable children. Without trying to be too leading I suggested that since the community identified the education of their children as a major concern, he may consider offering to build schools and pay teacher salaries verses bringing big screen TVs powered by generators into bush material houses. It just amazes me how completely out of touch some people are with the realities of poverty. Does he really think television and soccer will bring happiness to this village? Hopefully our conservation will weigh heavy in his mind and lead to positive changes in a village in rural PNG.
The great thing about airports are the conversations you have with people from everywhere coming and going anywhere! My flight has been cancelled and redirected. I will now fly to Port Moresby at 4:00 and then to Lae tomorrow. The only advantage of the constant cancellations of Air Niugini flights is that they put you up in posh hotels! So, I now have the opportunity to see the capital again and possibly stay in the 5 Star hotel I stayed in when I first arrived in PNG. That means I get a seafood buffet dinner, white robe and slippers, and a television! I guess TV does bring happiness!!!
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Gaining a Clearer Picture
The Creative Self Help CentreThings are really staring to become clearer in regards to my work. I have been attending workshops learning Melanesian Sign Language, holding in-services on learning disabilities, flexible grouping and teaching strategies, as well as planting the seeds for ideas of how to roll out inclusive education here in Madang. We are making progress, slow progress but it is still progress. I try not to be too leading in my approach as I hope to build the capacity of my partners and help them to develop skills and strategies to use in project planning. Through the use of participatory tools, which I continue to learn about myself as I am not formally training in international development, we are beginning to closely examine the needs and way forward for inclusive education here in Madang.
Teachers making E charts as a part of a training on vision and hearing screenings.We are in the beginning phases of forming planning groups to help facilitate the transition of students from centre-based services to more inclusive services in the mainstream schools. This will be an intensive project. The resource teachers themselves will need training in consultation and practical skills of how inclusion really works. Mainstream teachers,parents and communities will need awareness trainings. So far the mainstreaming efforts have yielded little success as most of the students who have been included in regular education classrooms have dropped out of school entirely. My role has been to begin to plant questions into my partners' minds. Why are these students dropping out after they are mainstreamed? Are we providing them enough support? If not, what support do they need? Do the teachers feel confident in their skills teaching a children with a disabilities in their class? If not, how can we assist in strengthening their skills? Do the parents and communities repect the rights and dignity of students with disabilities to see the value of sending their child to school? Once we really begin to grasp an understanding of the underlying issues of why inclusive education isn't working here in Madang we can begin to make positive, sustainable changes.
Teacher at a sign language training.I have been spending most of my time at the Creative Self Help Centre and at Gum Primary School, which is a short PMV ride out of Madang town. The long term goal is to train an internal resource officer (IRO)--similar to a resource teacher in the US---in each school. As of now, the province has trained a total of 8 IRO teachers. One of these teachers is at Gum; therefore, we hope for Gum to become a pilot school for our project.
Friday I am leaving for Lae to attend a workshop for all Special Education Resource Centres. The workshop will be targeting the "new" curriculum reform and outcome-based education. It will be a wonderful netwroking opportunity to speak with other professionals working in the field of inclusive education. It will also be great to visit another part of PNG. I will be in Lae for 10 days, spending a few days before and after the workshop with two other VSO volunteers from the Philippians who are working with VSOs disability program.
I am certain to have so interesting stories once I return from my trip to Lae.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
"It's PNG....And I am in the middle of it all."
Some of the usual sights around Madang town. There's so much to tell and so few words to express the culture and beauty of PNG. I hope these photos help to create a colorful picture for you!
Kalibobo Lighthouse
Cooking bananas and taro, staple food of island provinces.
Yes, this is a baby in a bilum hanging from a tree! Women also carry their babies in bilums strapped across their foreheads.
Women outside the school selling buai for the teachers and ice blocks (in the cooler) for the children. Ice blocks are like freeze pops---frozen, colored sugar water.
Kalibobo Lighthouse
Cooking bananas and taro, staple food of island provinces.
Yes, this is a baby in a bilum hanging from a tree! Women also carry their babies in bilums strapped across their foreheads.
Women outside the school selling buai for the teachers and ice blocks (in the cooler) for the children. Ice blocks are like freeze pops---frozen, colored sugar water.
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