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.

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.

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!

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 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.

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.

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.