Apinun olgeta! I'm here in Port Moresby, sweating my head off. The trip in was long but uneventful. 13 hours from Los Angeles to Brisbane, Australia. A little customs snafu r.e. bags and whether we had to pick them up and go around again through customs. (A very nervous big white guy I pegged as a missionary also had the same issue.) The seven-hour layover at Brisbane was actually the longest part of the trip. Then, of all the coincidences, I happened to sit next to the Deputy Minister of Conservation on the plane to Moresby! I'd been hoping to contact his boss about the Rainforest Coalition, one of my stories, but the boss was stuck in Brisbane. We had a nice, long talk about PNG, conservation, his family and the special siginificance of the word wantok (literally "one talk" -- the extended family)...

I was so happy to touch ground in Moresby. Those same dry hills, the black-and-red-and yellow PNG flag, that same blast of humidity when I walked out of the plane. I waited for my hotel van and watched a big family cry and cry and cry in happiness when their wantoks walked through the door. The family bond is everything here. Your wantoks mean more than your friends, more than anyone else. It's a strong tie.

It smells the same here. Firesmoke and car fumes. Buai (betelnut) and slightly funky mud. B.O. and dampness. It's a comforting smell, strangely enough.

The Comfort Inn has been an awesome place to stay. Clean room, fan over my bed, no roaches or rats that I can see. Everyone's been very nice. A few Australians, including a woman who broke her leg (both bones!) hiking the Kokoda Trail. A wonderful PNG man from an area called Finschaffen who wants to find himself a white wife and open up a guesthouse in his local village. (Note to man bilong mi, he wants to save up and come stay with us when he saves up enough money. I told him you'd be okay with that!) I've been speaking Tok Pisin pretty much nonstop, and I'm happy to say more than one person has said I'm fluent. Woohoo!

Yesterday, after two hours of trying to reach the man from the Ministry of Conservation using my Telkard calling card, I took a taxi to the National Museum. It is a truly amazing place. The art from the Sepik region -- canoes and masks and carved poles -- is particularly beautiful. I disappeared for two hours and then went on to PNG Arts, where they sell art to tourists. I got a little something for my soon-to-be-married friend Ms. K and a piece of tapa cloth for myself. (That's what I always wished I'd bought last time.) The driver kept the meter going while I shopped, and let's just say it was an expensive taxi ride! Hence my decision today not to go anywhere, though I'd love to see the Botanical Gardens again.

I had dinner last night with some nice guys, more of an English-Tok Pisin hybrid conversation. CNN International was playing in the background, so I'm well aware that TONY BLAIR IS STEPPING DOWN SOMEDAY! I heard Bush confirmed the presence of secret prisons too.

Breakfast this morning with my industrious friend from Finschaffen and a very cool Australian woman who's been working with the Australian Business Development organization. She's going to meet up with the man I'll stay with in Madang -- another small world coincidence.

Time moves slowly here in Moresby. I've been sleeping a lot because I can't be as active as I want to be. No running. I'm scared to put on my bathing suit and use the pool because it's showing so much skin. I don't want to offend. So I sped through Amanda Boyden's "Pretty Little Dirty" and now am well into Katharine Graham's autobiography. I go and talk to the people at the front desk, raunraun liklik (walk around), then come back and recover under the fan for a while.

Tomorrow I fly to Goroka at 9:05 a.m. I can't wait to see if my family got word I'm coming and waits for me at the airport or not. If not, I'll store my stuff at the guesthouse and take a PMV out to my village, Kabiufa. I tried to call the family, but their phone number is different from the one in the phone book. Yes, there's one PNG phonebook that covers the whole country. I love it.

Anyway, I'd best finish. My hour is almost up. I miss you all, even though I'm so happy to be back here. Write me and I'll check my email/blog as often as I can afford to. Stap isi na mi bai lukim yupela (stop easy and I'll see you).

S.