Movin'' On Up

Sunday, June 29, 2008
I can hardly believe another week has come and gone. Things were busy for me this week. My move into Ed’s apartment with my two bags and a box of kitchen wares was by far the simplest move of my life. I took pleasure in turning the modestly furnished apartment my home. I filled the bare cabinets and draped the stained furniture with the hand-me-downs I have acquired from volunteers who have left since my arrival. My favorite spot is on my veranda where I have hung my hammock over looking the coconut, buai, guava, banana, and bread fruit trees. My apartment complex. My veranda is 3rd from the left, top floor.

I am slowly piecing together a vision of my placement. The Madang Teacher’s College may benefit from an updated special education curriculum. The Creative Self Help Centre lacks a mission statement and vision with clear aims and goals. There is an identified need for direct lines of communication between the National level and Provincial levels of education particularly relating to Special Education. There are many opportunities and possible directions for my placement. In relation to sustainable development, I know my work would yield more benefits if I help to build the capacity of each stakeholder. However, my role is to train and assist teachers in inclusive practices, not to build the capacity of organizations. I am trying to find a balance where I am able to share the most of my skills while I am here. After school visits and interviews with key partners, I believe I have an idea of a starting point.

I went to MTC Wednesday to observe a lecture on Learning Disabilities. I read the course curriculum prior to my visit and I had many concerns with the outdated information. I contributed as much as time allowed during the lecture. I must have made an impression as I was invited to return Friday to give a lecture to two classes. I had one day to research and prepare for a two hour lecture on learning disabilities for over 30 teachers. Based on my review of the curriculum and my observation, I decided to focus on the characteristics and teaching strategies for each of the 8 areas of learning disabilities. The lecture was well received and I felt exhilarated. It felt incredible to be able to use and share my knowledge. I felt alive and passionate and for the first time I actually missed working as a school psychologist. I made resource packets full of teaching aids for each the 8 areas of LD. The two hours felt like 10 minutes. I could have continued to share for hours. Many teachers stayed behind to ask questions and get a closer look at the packets. I was invited to return next week to lecture for 3 more classes.

I was able to observe a screening at the Creative Self Help Centre with the Deaf Education Resource Unit. I have grown close with their team. They have relatively high levels of skills as they were trained by Callan National Unit, the largest disability NGO in PNG. The little boy was referred by his uncle, who happens to be a Special Education lecturer at MTC. I was surprised by the low level of awareness from the uncle and father, who is a teacher at a primary school. The 12 year old boy (who I guessed to be around 8 years old) had a severe ear infection that had traveled to his eyes. The boy passed his vision and hearing screenings and was given a prescription for antibiotics from the DERU nurse after the father was instructed on the importance of ear toileting (cleaning the ears) and avoiding swimming in stagnant water.

Each Saturday I look forward to my trips to the market. The crowds of people carrying bilums filled with fruits and vegetables. The passionate man shouting from the speaker’s corner—I think he is preaching the word from the Christian God. The hustle and bustle of men, women, and children pouring in and out of shops. The smell of the coconut oil factory. The respite of cool air inside Papindo’s supermarket. The squeals of the flying foxes. The occasional shouts of disagreement that send you in the opposite direction in fear of a bush knife being drawn. The largest carrots, zucchini, and squash I have ever seen. The widest variety of bananas from all across PNG. The sweat dripping down the small of my back. The weight of my growing bag ripping at my shoulder. It’s all a part of the market experience.

Since eating and drinking seems to be all I do here lately, mi got bigpela bel. I have decided that I need to start exercising more regularly. I started tennis lessons last week at the Madang Country Club. An Australian Missionary and prior tennis instructor gives lessons for 5 kina every Wednesday. It’s a mixed group of Nationals, VSO vols and a teenage Indian boy. I need more than my once a week tennis lesson and the occasional Pilates DVD, so today I explored the kina beach area looking for a safe route for daily runs. I walked toward the sea where children were swimming and men and women were laying in the grass chewing betel nut. As I ran the loop around kina beach I stopped and introduced myself to families sitting on their verandas and people behind their buai stands. Just as I was feeling safe I ran upon an aggressive dog that began to bark and run towards me. His teeth looked sharp and his growl sounded fierce. I screamed and wished I had more than my empty hands to protect myself. I knew I couldn’t show fear and running was not an option, so I just stood still and quiet hoping he wouldn’t attack. Luckily this tactic worked and he simply walked away. Hopefully I will not run into him tomorrow.

Networking

Monday, June 23, 2008
Without even realizing it a month has passed. In some aspects I find myself quite settled in; however, I appreciate that there is much more to discover. I eagerly awoke this morning looking forward to my meeting with a key person within the Provincial Education Department. I ran through all my morning routines; cutting off the security lights on my verandas, hiding my ipod and laptop in my oven, and packing bottles of water, bananas and oranges into my bilum. During my walk to the bus stop I gave and received the occasional “Morning tru.” I have begun to recognize familiar faces lingering under trees and around buai stands. I hardly notice the flying foxes above my head or the trails of splattered buai that have painted the path crimson. I know that bus 6A takes me to town, 9A to Divine Word University and 17A to Madang’s Teacher College. I climbed into 6A where I always find opportunities to practice my Tok Pisin. I laughed with Brenda, who works at ChemCare pharmacy, about how the bus attendant opened the door at the crosswalk out of habit thinking it was a stop.

As we approached Modilon, a supermarket near the VSO office where egg sandwiches and cold Fantas are found, I shouted for the driver to stop. While at the office, I printed the agenda I prepared for my meeting and submitted several requests to my program manager. For security reasons, I requested to move into Ed’s apartment on the second floor of my complex. His placement with VSO is ending and he leaves for the UK in a few days. I also recently discovered that all the volunteers, except for me, received the TB vaccination, so I requested an appointment with VSO’s doctor.

My meeting at the Provincial Department with John Ura, the Provincial In-service Coordinator, went relatively well. We managed to get through a third of the agenda and scheduled another meeting next week. I didn’t however manage to get any information on the National policy for Inclusive Education. One of the targeted aims of my project is to assist in bridging the inclusive education network. After my meeting, I bumped into Michael, a teacher from the Deaf Education Resource Unit (DERU). It just so happened that I just gave a briefing of the DERU in my meeting. Fortunately, Michael said he had a copy of the National policy that he could review with me later in the afternoon. It’s all about networking. (Picture of the Creative Self Help Centre)


At 4:06, the official end of the workday, I came home to find Jeremiah scraping coconut on his veranda. This was my chance. One thing I learned from my initial days in Chimate Village about building relationships was to find something that can be done together that didn’t involve language. I asked if I could come to learn to scrape coconut. He smiled and let me take his place on the bench which the scraper was attached. Scraping is much more demanding than it looks. You actually have to put quite a bit of muscle into it. Unlike Zambians, Jeremiah and his family who now surrounded me did not laugh at my blunders. Jeremiah patiently modeled the technique for me again holding the half coconut in his hands showing me the proper grip as he slid the coconut at an angle across the blade. I have spoken to Jeremiah, his younger sisters, and the other children of his extended family (wontoks) that play in our compound many times. Jeremiah must be around the age of 12 or 13 and his sisters possibly between 1 and 3 years. I left with the promise of Tok Pisin and PNG cooking lessons.

Buai is a huge part of PNG culture and I have wanted to try it since my arrival. Every few feet along the roads there are stands selling buai and tobacco rolled in yesterday’s copy of the National Courier. Just outside my apartment complex, my neighbors have a buai stand. I often stop and chat with Christopher and his daughter on my walks to and from work. Christopher has offered me buai on many occasions, but due to fear of my teeth being permanently stained red I have politely declined. Ed wanted to try buai before he left so I told him I knew just the guy who would teach us this PNG tradition. Once we chewed through the outer shell, the betel nut (buai) was jaw clenching, eye watering bitter. Our mouths began to salivate and the spitting began. Some people choose to chew buai without the mustard plant (daka) and lime which provides the “buzz” and the blood red color. We wanted the full experience. Once we chewed the buai into a ball we dipped the mustard stem in the lime, which is reportedly taken from coral. Once we begin to chew the 3 ingredients together, our teeth, lips and tongues turned scarlet. My mouth tingled and grew hot. Although my entire mouth was filled with saliva, it felt very dry. We were quite the entertainment for those walking past. They laughed at us spitting and showing one another our crimson tongues. Although I did not feel a buzz or any effects of the buai other than a dry tingling mouth, I did feel a sense of acceptance. My greetings were much better received when paired with a red smile. This is what I could look like if I made chewing buai a habit!


Dinner parties are the main social events here in Madang. Marleen, Haley and I cook dinner together 4 nights of the week—it’s much better than cooking and eating alone. We typically have veggies with either rice or pasta. Haley’s father is a chef in the UK so she has offered to give me cooking lessons. Tonight we made garlic hummus and an Indian curry dish. My taste buds needed something a bit spicy after the buai.

Like clockwork the rains have begun to hum their nightly lullaby. The splattered buai will be washed from the dirt. The air will cool. And if I am lucky, I will be in a deep sleep before the rooster begins to crow.

Speaking a Common Language?

Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Today was another exhausting day as a researcher. I seem to ask the same questions rephrased over and over again and manage to illicit varied, irrelevant responses. Information seems to change day by day, person to person. Each stakeholder has a different title and definition for inclusive education. After many exhausting visits and interviews, I learned that although we are speaking English, we are not speaking the same language. Even the differences between American English and British English add to the mental effort needed to express your thoughts clearly. Selecting and phrasing words can be quite tedious. Before we can move forward with promoting inclusive education, we must all begin speaking a common language. Gum Primary School Grade 3 Class

In 1993, PNG adopted the National Special Education policy. Now 15 years later, most educators including the senior staff at the provincial department have not received any training on the policy. How are teachers going to receive support on mainstreaming efforts when the Director of the Provincial Department views inclusive education as simply “providing for those with physical disabilities?” Most persons holding high positions within the educational disability sector have limited qualifications or experience in either education or disability. The director of the Creative Self Help Center is a banker; the Chairman of its board of directors is a dentist. The teachers of the center and the lecturers of the teachers college received most of their trainings on special education from in-services held by NGOs. Divine Word University, located here in Madang, offers a BA in Special Education. Why are these highly qualified persons not filling these positions?

I have learned several key cultural factors that will have effects on my research. Sharing information is not valued in PNG. Knowledge is power and power is not shared. When teachers attend workshops it is intended that they return to their respective clusters and hold in-services on the information they have received. Instead, they keep this information stacked on their desks as a sign of power. Culturally, telling stories or “tokstori” is very important. I have found that providing case studies and elaborating on real life examples helps me to talk their language.
Rempi Primary School Office

Next step……locate a copy of the National Special Education Policy and find a definition of inclusive education.

Is PNG Rich?

It seems ludicrous to me that a block of cheese and a carving which consumed 3 days of a Highland man’s life are of the same monetary value. Fifteen Kina is worth approximately $4.97 USD. At a second hand clothing store I bought 7 articles of clothing from Australia and Asia for less than 15 Kina. I just can’t justify buying a box of Kellogg’s or a jar of pasta sauce for the same price as a weeks worth of clothing. From the market, I can buy enough fruits and veggies to feed me an entire week for K15. A heap of 5 to 6 potatoes costs K1 as does 1 tomato, or 10 bananas, or 3 small eggplants. From the pharmacy however, I bought contact solution for K50 ($16.56), the same price as a mobile phone. Although I struggle to keep a budget, my lifestyle is not stricken by poverty.

As a VSO volunteer I make K1250.00 monthly in addition to my housing costs. To put this into perspective, a typical “house meri” or cleaning lady makes K10 a day, the VSO accountant’s (a PNG National) salary is less than a “volunteer’s” salary and his housing is not provided. Most assistant program managers are not financially able to own or rent their own house and often live with their wontoks, extended families. I use quotations around the term volunteer because I question if we can call ourselves volunteers. Are we really working for free? We are given a good rate of pay, which when our housing is included, is equivalent to that of a highly trained National in a managerial position? Is “volunteer” the right term?

Unlike Zambians and many people from southern countries, Papua New Guineans are not hungry. The land is rich with fruits and vegetables and the sea with fish. And yet during the lunch hour people are spilling out of kai stores (restaurants) with their take away and ice cream cones. Could this explain the high prevalence of Type II diabetes here? Although I see much more disposable income than that of Zambia, PNG is still impoverished. The hospital in the country’s third largest city has depleted its oxygen and blood supplies. Families cannot afford to pay school fees and consequentially the numbers of sex workers have increased. Why do families have to pay for education at all? PNG is very rich in natural resources which are being traded internationally at high rates. Rather than PNG, Asian mining and fishing companies are reaping the profits with no social responsibility. The land, sea, and reefs are being destroyed at the cost of the next generation of Papua New Guineans.

In my fourth week in this country I find this difficult to understand. These questions and concerns are not all my own. These are drawn from many discussions with other “volunteers” at The Lodge on Friday nights over K25 plates of fish-n-chips and K6 SP beers—a house meri’s weekly salary.

An Expert

Wednesday, June 11, 2008. VSO finally offered some guidance today (only 2 ½ weeks into my placement). It was initiated by a volunteer who is filling in while two program officers are out of the office. I finished language training today and was treated to lunch at The Lodge—my assumption after Day 2 that volunteers never really leave The Lodge is proving to be true. Reef at the lodge.

Over a veggie pizza we discussed my role and how I would begin my placement. I have a very unique role within VSO as I will be combining both the education and disability programs. I also have 5 key partners with very different ideas for the direction of my placement. With that being said, I also do not appear to have a direct Line Manager. I was told that my position was more like a Program Manager’s position verses a volunteer’s position. So, my first step is to conduct a stakeholders analysis. The list is exhaustive but at the minimum it would include (1) the Provincial Department of Education, (2) Madang Teacher’s College, (3) the Creative Self Help Centre, (4) VSO Disability Program, and (5) VSO Education Program. In my analysis I will learn about the organizations mission and goals, about ongoing projects, as well as the people in the organization and the positions they hold. Then I will conduct a needs assessment of each stakeholder. What are their needs, what resources do they currently have, what are their partner organizations, and what are their expectations of my placement? This process of familiarizing myself with these organizations may take several months. I will basically work as a researcher to assess the needs of inclusive education. Once I have gathered the initial information I will create a work plan to submit to each of the stakeholders. VSO has assisted me by outlining a tentative schedule to begin my analysis with each of the stakeholders. I am eager to begin my extensive research but I am also a bit overwhelmed by their expectations of me as an “expert in my field.” At home I am just a school psychologist who enjoys submersing myself into new cultures. Here, I am an expert. No pressure! So for the next few months I will be building relationships and learning the culture of education and disability in PNG before I begin building my project.

Building Relationships vs. Building Projects

Tuesday, June 10th, 2008. I decided to volunteer with VSO because I am interested in learning more about development work. At times, I find myself questioning the very idea of western development and its influences. I was recently asked, “So what got you into development?” Surprisingly no one has directly asked me that question. It was strange hearing those words aloud. The imprinted image of a missionary holding a curriculum with a hidden agenda flashed through my mind. How did I get here? Am I really interested in development work? I am not certain. Although I have a strong compassion for others and the skill set to make a difference, I feel that I am more interested in learning about cultures and embracing a new way of life than I am of blindly imposing “improvements.” Does this make my reasons for volunteering less altruistic? I want to live in harmony with the land in a place where there is coexistence between humans and the earth. In Zambia, I was able to witness and have the privilege to live this life. A life where the community had an intimate relationship with the land. A life that was rich well beyond that of material wealth or technological sophistication. I have a great concern about the unknown effects western development will have on “developing” societies and their intimate connection with the natural world. Is there a way to provide aid without the abandonment of their cultural values and customs? In my humble opinion, I feel that we as a western culture have a lot to learn from people like the Zambians about building sustainable societies. I learned more from the people of Zambia than I could have ever hoped to have taught them. Most notably, I learned the importance of building relationships before building projects.

Tab Island

Week 3. Saturday, June 7, 2008. So much has been happening and I am exhausted but I want to get some of my thoughts and latest adventures down before I forget the details. I tried taking a nap this afternoon in my hammock but I was distracted by #1 the heat, #2 the noises, #3 the guy next door climbing to the top of a buai tree! It amazes me how they can climb those small but tall, very wobbly trees so quickly. Maybe I’ll have to try it one day-it’ll help me get over my fear of heights. I am certain it’s a high risk activity that VSO is sure not to endorse, but so is walking alone and diving.

Today I went out on a boat to Tab Island for some snorkeling and swimming. The views of the mountains and islands were incredible. The sea level was high from the storm a few days ago and the continued high winds. Last night while at the Lodge for the ritualistic Friday evening yoga, swimming, and fish-n-chips, the sea came crashing over the wall. Today the swells were big and the waves were crashing over the reefs. We headed out of Madang past the Coconut Oil Factory; its aroma fills the air. We dropped anchor between two islands, Tab Island Wildlife Preservation and another small island with a few bamboo houses. There is an amazing reef between these two islands. While some went diving the rest of us snorkeled. This was my first time to snorkel and I felt like I was in the middle of a Microsoft screensaver! There were so many vibrant colored fishes. I was surrounded by blue, yellow, pink, orange, and purple fishes. The coral was a mixture of colors including a bright blue. It was nothing like I expected. I was simply amazed and once I grew comfortable with my snorkel and found a regular breathing pattern I never wanted to climb back onto the boat. I was a bit nervous at first about kicking the coral with my fins or sinking down a bit too much in the shallow areas and cutting my stomach or thighs. Thanks to Tristen, a guy from London who is here working with World Vision who was my snorkeling partner, I saw an angel fish and a scorpion fish—which I later learned is poisonous. When we needed a break we would swim up to the beach and to avoid damaging the reef we had to swim til our stomachs touched the sand. Once we were on the island we walked inland into the forest. Caution: Beware of falling coconuts, they could knock you unconscious or deliver a fatal blow. Death by falling coconut, now wouldn’t that be tragic? The forest was so green and lush. I saw the breadfruit tree that Willie was telling me about during Tok Pisin language training. My barefeet sank into the rich, moist soil of the forest similar to the wet sand along the beach. If only we had a bush knife we could have drank kulau, fresh coconut.

Madang Festival

Friday, June 6th, 2008. This morning, I walked to the bus stop in a larger than normal crowd and wasn’t able to catch a bus. I decided to endure the heat and walk. As I got closer to town and the crowd grew larger, I heard drumming and realized I was walking in the middle of the Madang Singsing Festival! I keep my eyes on the uneven ground to keep from tripping on rocks or tree roots. I looked up to see that I was standing directly in front of a singsing. I was amazed to be so close to this incredible display of PNG culture. I was already running late for my language session, but I couldn’t walk away from this spectacular event. I followed along as they danced their way through the street toward the field where the Festival was held. They wore tall black feathers on their heads, leaves around their waists, pig tusks around their necks, and vibrant colored flowers on their arms and legs. They danced around in circles singing and playing drums. I couldn’t tear myself away to go to the VSO office, I watched in complete awe until they entered the field.


Later in the afternoon, I returned to the singsing with two other volunteers, Denis and Chris. Denis was actually in Zambia working with VSO while I was there with Peace Corps. We know a lot of the same people but we never ran into each other there. It is absolutely incredible to speak ChiNyanja and make references to Zambian culture with him. Chris also visited Zambia on his way to Malawi so he too knows a bit of Nyanja!



In the middle of the field were the stage and many singsings. There were four groups performing in various spots on the field. The Coastal singsings had colorful skirts and boars teeth around their necks while the Highlanders had their faces painted vivid colors. Bright, colorful feathers and flowers covered their heads, arms and legs. They danced and jumped around singing, shouting and playing drums. Denis and Chris said that if people were seen dancing like this in their home of Uganda they would be considered sorcerers.


As I walked around the field with Denis and Chris I noticed a difference in their interactions with the PNG Nationals from what I have experienced in the past two weeks. Everyone greeted them and shook their hands. I can hardly get a “Moning tru.” I don’t know if it can be explained by the fact that they are male, or that they are black or that they have been here longer and are familiar faces to many Nationals.

We walked around the stalls and surprisingly this aspect of the festival was much like any other festival or fair I have been to in the States. There were vendors selling crafts and souvenirs such as laplaps, bilums, paintings and shirts. There were businesses and industries promoting their products and ngos such as Save The Children and Australia HIV/AIDS Council creating awareness. There was face painting and games and of course food vendors. Women cooked fish, sweet potatoes and greens over fires in the back of the stalls and served them on palm leaves. I passed on the food but bought my first coconut.
The man selling the kulau (fresh coconuts) took out a huge bush knife and began chopping off the shell and cut a hole in the end for me to drink from. It was so refreshing in the heat!
Drenched in sweat and back to the place we started, we decided to begin to walk against the crowd and head to The Lodge. Every Friday evening the VSO/expat community meet at The Lodge for yoga and swimming followed by fish-n-chips and cold SP (South Pacific) beer. I feel as if I am on vacation!

Kina Beach.

Wednesday, June 04, 2008. There are no sandy beaches around the mainland of Madang town, only coral reefs so the name for the area where I live, Kina Beach, isn’t really fitting. I cannot hear nor do I have a clear view of the sea from my apartment, but I know it’s just a walk down the road a bit. I do however have an abundance of banana, coconut, and buai (beetle nut) trees and flying foxes. Kina Beach is a safe area near the hospital and Provincial Government Offices. It is also a lively place. There are always bats screaming, dogs barking, roosters crowing, birds singing and children crying—there is a nursery school next door. I didn’t imagine I would be living in an apartment complex in PNG. I expected something like a house made of bamboo on stilts, not a concrete building with 7 other apartments. Living in my complex are 2 local PNG families and their many wontoks (clan members) who seem to come in and out, a young Indian couple who have a 2 month old baby, 3 single guys (my neighbors) who work for Digicel, one of the two local mobile phone companies, as well as, 3 other VSO volunteers. The VSO volunteers are Ed from the UK, Marleen from Amsterdam, (me and Marleen)
and Veronica from the Philippines. There are 3 other volunteers who live in the Kina Beach area, Hayley and a married couple, Ian and Sue, all from the UK.

I have pretty much settled in. I have bought sheets, pots, towels and all the other things one needs. The apartment came equipped with furniture, fridge, stove and washer. I am thankful for the washer, yet I am fairly certain that I am not doing something quite right. It’s one of those double tub washers. The first tub is for washing and the second for spinning but it’s the rinsing that I haven’t figured out yet. Do I drain the first tub and refill it to rinse or do I periodically open the spinner and pour in buckets of water? I have tried both ways and my clothes still come out sudsy and dry crispy. Although I conserve water, I try not to worry too much about wasting because we use rainwater and it pours down rain every night. The rainwater is collected in tanks and attached is a solar unit that provides hot water. I look forward to my cold showers at night, so I haven’t had a need for hot water. I boil my water for drinking but Marleen upstairs says she drinks from the tap. I also have a gas stove, which is good because that means I can still cook during the daily power outages.

Gecko and ants are inescapable! They are everywhere crawling on everything. The good thing about geckos is that they eat mosquitoes and keep to themselves as they hang on my walls and ceilings. The ants are a bit more annoying because there always seems to be two or three of them crawling on and biting me. The good thing I can say about the ants is that they carry away my crumbs and the dead roaches!

Smelly Water

Sunday, June 1st 2008. Today, three other VSO volunteers and I visited Balek Wildlife Sanctuary 10km south of Madang town. There is a sulphur creek that flows from a huge limestone formation. A Papua New Guinean family manages this area and they took us across the South Coast Road toward the mountain and into the rainforest. The man said that it is believed that spirits inhabit the area and that many years ago people with leprosy were brought to the water for its healing properties. I was surprised by the amount of life in this “smelly water.” Thanks to the Lonely Planet, we came prepared with bananas to feed the eel and turtles; however, the fish and ducks seemed to be more interested. The young girls of the family were eager to entertain us by climbing high in the trees for beetle nuts and swinging across the creek on vines.
I assumed they were putting on a show for the white manmeri (people), nevertheless I enjoyed every second of it and tried my best to capture it all on my camera just as any tourist would!