Apinun olgeta,
1:50 p.m. on Saturday. It's my last full day in PNG. I celebrated this beautiful place this morning by diving for the first time at Jais Aben. After a chilly introductory session in the resort's pool, I headed out into the solwara (salt water) with my instructor. Man, is it beautiful. Corals of all colors. Lots of neon yellow. Parrotfish, angelfish, lots of electric blue fish, clams, even a sea fluke. (That's a relative of the sea horse, I've been told.) No sharks or sea snakes this time, though I've been told they're around. We dove down to 40 feet. I love how the fish look at you when you'e swimming close to you. You can just tell they're trying to figure out what the heck you are. There were schools of fish off in the distance, and even an old Cessna airplane underwater. It's just awesome. Another world.
To my friends from Redondo, you must come here. I'm bringing you a CD of information about diving at Jais Aben.
The only down side of diving was the fact that my BCD kept inflating for some reason. That's the vest that you wear to help with your buoyancy. I was really fighting to stay down at certain points, despite an extra weight on the weight belt and repeated deflations of the BCD. Panicked once, then realized that did me no good and I had to just breathe easy.
Now it's early afternoon. I've stuffed myself with the homemade bread that's the best I've ever had. Might grab a banana or some papaya later on. I've been rationing out my lemon creme biscuits. There's a young American guy named Teddy here who's apparently on his way to Ok Tedi Mine. Research of some kind? Not sure. I haven't talked with him much, but I'll find out more tonight when we have dinner.
It rained hard last night and much of this morning, and it's still a little overcast. The rain cooled everything down to a more manageable humidity level. I'm just trying to soak in the sounds and sights. Madang is really a place you have to see to believe. I don't think my pictures will do justice. I wish I could stay here another month.
But real life intrudes into PNG. I have lots of CDs and photos to copy and send out. Lots of work to do on my stories too. And I have to pay the bills. I've lost a month's income -- and almost all my savings -- doing this reporting trip, but it's worth it 100 times over. I'll find a way to make it work financially.
Once I get to Darwin, I may try to do some recording with some of the Aboriginal people that the P/deKs have worked with during their doctoral fieldwork. I think I can incorporate their stories into my "definitions of poverty" piece, since their lack of land is such a stark contrast to the situation of Papua New Guineans.
We're having a slide show on Wednesday night to show their pictures from Peace Corps/PNG and mine from this trip. Should be fun...
I also look forward to finding a wireless connection and showing you some of what I've seen. The sounds will have to come later.
So here's my last lukim yupela from PNG. Thanks for sharing the journey. From the next post on, it'll be g'day. Stay tuned.
S.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Gud nait olgeta,
9:45 p.m. on Thursday here. I had a quiet day yesterday and a busy one today. Lots of malolo (rest) yesterday, including a heavenly three-hour nap under the fan. (Do I really have to go back to work at that news organization in two weeks?) I spent today in Madang town with the two Pathfinder International ladies, Jil (Papua New Guinean) and Jennifer (American). It's been a bit of a struggle to arrange my visits/interviews with the limited truck schedule to/from town, but today was great. I was able to be there all day. They're trying to hammer out all the details surrounding starting up an NGO, and there's lots of them. Buying a secondhand car that's still in good shape. Finding office space. Finding decent housing for Jil. Getting estimates from the nearest city, Lae, for possible cars -- they have to fly there and back in one day. Renting a Toyota Hilux so they can go out in the field. Finding a driver. Figuring out who from the Departments of Health and Community Service will be coming with on this "field trip."
I recorded while they discussed some of the challenges of setting up this program: government inaction, trying to set up reproductive health services in a predominantly Catholic area, health care workers from "outside" coming into a different region, adolescent access to reproductive health services, men acting as family decision-makers and controlling women's fertility and the biggie, sexual and gender-based violence. Wife-beating is a big problem here. Big.
Tomorrow we're scheduled to go out in the field to a nearby village. Jil and Jennifer will gather "pre-test" questionnaires from a few villagers who are willing to talk about what, if any, health and family planning options are available to them. It will be another full day.
I think I will schedule a half-day introductory dive session for Saturday with the dive shop at Jais Aben Resort. (Thank god for credit cards, since I'm nearly out of money.) Then we have a barbeque Saturday night, then I leave Sunday.
After I rode in the back of BRG's pickup truck back to Jais Aben this afternoon, I grabbed my bilum (string bag) to sit down on the jetty and write in my journal about the day's events. Also had my recorder. I started recording the sound of the water hitting the shore at high tide, and then my friend's adopted daughter and her four friends came down to the jetty to see what I was doing. After some prodding, they started talking about what they saw in front of them. One person would hold the mike and another would listen through my headphones. I monitored the recording levels. They loved it. Pushed and shoved a little bit over who would get what next. 40 minutes of heaven -- they laughed and ducked under all the wires and hung from the trees while I took pictures. We finished up our "recording session" as it got dark. One of the girls, Marianne, braided two little braids out of the wispies the wind had pulled out of my ponytail. (Wispies, a.k.a. heat-induced 'fro fuzz.) It was a nice end to the day.
Had dinner with my compadres Benjamin, Sindana and Yat. (Side note -- last night we had a wonderful 40-minute discussion about whether PNG is a poor country or a rich country. They all said rich, because of the fact that Papua New Guineans own 97% of the land in the country. It's one of only five countries in the world, all of them Melanesian, where land is owned by the people of the country. PNG. Solomon Islands. Vanuatu. New Caledonia. Fiji.) Manrico the Australian left for Port Moresby this afternoon, so it was just the four of us. Benjamin and I stayed at the table for a long while talking about race relations in the U.S. and what life is like for black Americans. I tried to explain some of the things I've noticed or heard about, including the sensitivity of using the n-word, but felt completely inadequate at explaining an experience I've never had. I also resorted to English for the first time to explain some of my thoughts... Not sure why Tok Pisin wouldn't do. I guess I wanted to make sure I got my words as right as I could.
Why is race so sticky? It's really not much of an issue here. I mean, I'm stared at constantly, but that's a given because I'm one of a few white people in a black-skinned country. I've said that before. I chafe at being called misus, but my aunt Delta told me after I explained the slavery connotations that it's a frequently-used term referring to everyone, not just whites. Masta, the equivalent male term, is a little more uncomfortable. So is pikinini, the word for children here. What matters here is clan affiliation. It's not a coastal vs. Highlands distinction either. It's a specific hauslain (extended family) and then the clan within that hauslain. The guy I rode with on the plane to Goroka had told me how upsetting it was to him to have an Aboriginal man in Cairns, Australia call him wantok. He said to the man "You're not my wantok. We may have the same skin color, but you're not my family." I think if he were from the U.S., he'd probably have the opposite reaction. Just my opinion... But then again, during that conversation about the Australian government's treatment of Aboriginals the other night, Benjamin, Sindana and Yat were all very, very sad to hear how the Aboriginals had "lost" their land. They clearly identified with them.
I was very excited to find a book in the BRG collection called Yali's Question by Deborah Gewertz and Frederick Errington. Ms. Gewertz was my anthropology professor for a class I took at Amherst College, and the second person to mention PNG to me. (First was Ms. Faber, my second grade teacher, who was a missionary here way back when.) She's done her research in the Sepik River region, known for its intricate carvings. The book is about the Ramu Sugar Corporation and how it's changed life in PNG. I plan to buy it when I get back home, but I'm trying to read what I can in my spare time. Haven't gotten through the forward yet... I remember Deborah Gewertz being very upset when I wrote her an email to say I was going to PNG through the Peace Corps back when we got our posting notification in late 1998. She didn't think volunteers were doing much to help the people of PNG. I wonder if she still feels the same way.
Time for me to sign off. I still have to do my 6+ pages of journaling before I sleep, and I'm pooped.
S.
9:45 p.m. on Thursday here. I had a quiet day yesterday and a busy one today. Lots of malolo (rest) yesterday, including a heavenly three-hour nap under the fan. (Do I really have to go back to work at that news organization in two weeks?) I spent today in Madang town with the two Pathfinder International ladies, Jil (Papua New Guinean) and Jennifer (American). It's been a bit of a struggle to arrange my visits/interviews with the limited truck schedule to/from town, but today was great. I was able to be there all day. They're trying to hammer out all the details surrounding starting up an NGO, and there's lots of them. Buying a secondhand car that's still in good shape. Finding office space. Finding decent housing for Jil. Getting estimates from the nearest city, Lae, for possible cars -- they have to fly there and back in one day. Renting a Toyota Hilux so they can go out in the field. Finding a driver. Figuring out who from the Departments of Health and Community Service will be coming with on this "field trip."
I recorded while they discussed some of the challenges of setting up this program: government inaction, trying to set up reproductive health services in a predominantly Catholic area, health care workers from "outside" coming into a different region, adolescent access to reproductive health services, men acting as family decision-makers and controlling women's fertility and the biggie, sexual and gender-based violence. Wife-beating is a big problem here. Big.
Tomorrow we're scheduled to go out in the field to a nearby village. Jil and Jennifer will gather "pre-test" questionnaires from a few villagers who are willing to talk about what, if any, health and family planning options are available to them. It will be another full day.
I think I will schedule a half-day introductory dive session for Saturday with the dive shop at Jais Aben Resort. (Thank god for credit cards, since I'm nearly out of money.) Then we have a barbeque Saturday night, then I leave Sunday.
After I rode in the back of BRG's pickup truck back to Jais Aben this afternoon, I grabbed my bilum (string bag) to sit down on the jetty and write in my journal about the day's events. Also had my recorder. I started recording the sound of the water hitting the shore at high tide, and then my friend's adopted daughter and her four friends came down to the jetty to see what I was doing. After some prodding, they started talking about what they saw in front of them. One person would hold the mike and another would listen through my headphones. I monitored the recording levels. They loved it. Pushed and shoved a little bit over who would get what next. 40 minutes of heaven -- they laughed and ducked under all the wires and hung from the trees while I took pictures. We finished up our "recording session" as it got dark. One of the girls, Marianne, braided two little braids out of the wispies the wind had pulled out of my ponytail. (Wispies, a.k.a. heat-induced 'fro fuzz.) It was a nice end to the day.
Had dinner with my compadres Benjamin, Sindana and Yat. (Side note -- last night we had a wonderful 40-minute discussion about whether PNG is a poor country or a rich country. They all said rich, because of the fact that Papua New Guineans own 97% of the land in the country. It's one of only five countries in the world, all of them Melanesian, where land is owned by the people of the country. PNG. Solomon Islands. Vanuatu. New Caledonia. Fiji.) Manrico the Australian left for Port Moresby this afternoon, so it was just the four of us. Benjamin and I stayed at the table for a long while talking about race relations in the U.S. and what life is like for black Americans. I tried to explain some of the things I've noticed or heard about, including the sensitivity of using the n-word, but felt completely inadequate at explaining an experience I've never had. I also resorted to English for the first time to explain some of my thoughts... Not sure why Tok Pisin wouldn't do. I guess I wanted to make sure I got my words as right as I could.
Why is race so sticky? It's really not much of an issue here. I mean, I'm stared at constantly, but that's a given because I'm one of a few white people in a black-skinned country. I've said that before. I chafe at being called misus, but my aunt Delta told me after I explained the slavery connotations that it's a frequently-used term referring to everyone, not just whites. Masta, the equivalent male term, is a little more uncomfortable. So is pikinini, the word for children here. What matters here is clan affiliation. It's not a coastal vs. Highlands distinction either. It's a specific hauslain (extended family) and then the clan within that hauslain. The guy I rode with on the plane to Goroka had told me how upsetting it was to him to have an Aboriginal man in Cairns, Australia call him wantok. He said to the man "You're not my wantok. We may have the same skin color, but you're not my family." I think if he were from the U.S., he'd probably have the opposite reaction. Just my opinion... But then again, during that conversation about the Australian government's treatment of Aboriginals the other night, Benjamin, Sindana and Yat were all very, very sad to hear how the Aboriginals had "lost" their land. They clearly identified with them.
I was very excited to find a book in the BRG collection called Yali's Question by Deborah Gewertz and Frederick Errington. Ms. Gewertz was my anthropology professor for a class I took at Amherst College, and the second person to mention PNG to me. (First was Ms. Faber, my second grade teacher, who was a missionary here way back when.) She's done her research in the Sepik River region, known for its intricate carvings. The book is about the Ramu Sugar Corporation and how it's changed life in PNG. I plan to buy it when I get back home, but I'm trying to read what I can in my spare time. Haven't gotten through the forward yet... I remember Deborah Gewertz being very upset when I wrote her an email to say I was going to PNG through the Peace Corps back when we got our posting notification in late 1998. She didn't think volunteers were doing much to help the people of PNG. I wonder if she still feels the same way.
Time for me to sign off. I still have to do my 6+ pages of journaling before I sleep, and I'm pooped.
S.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Quick note: still sweating in Madang. A quiet day today. Met Jil in town, along with her American counterpart, who's here to help set up the Pathfinder International office. We chatted and I'll be spending the day with them tomorrow. It was heaven to eat some American candy, though I've been satisfying my sweet tooth with lemon creme biscuits (cookies) for the last bit of time. Papaya and bread for breakfast. Papaya and homemade bread for lunch. Dinner is waiting on the table under a mysterious shroud. I took a three-hour nap today. I'm liking this malolo (rest). I also think I will abuse my credit card and sign up for an introductory dive on Saturday. I know my friends in Redondo Beach would kill me if I didn't take advantage of this amazing diving opportunity.
I've been trying and trying to upload pictures, but the internet connection is just too slow. Hopefully I can do that once I'm in Darwin. (I leave PNG/arrive in Darwin on Sunday.) I'll search for wireless once I'm there.
Anyway, take care. Talk soon.
S.
I've been trying and trying to upload pictures, but the internet connection is just too slow. Hopefully I can do that once I'm in Darwin. (I leave PNG/arrive in Darwin on Sunday.) I'll search for wireless once I'm there.
Anyway, take care. Talk soon.
S.
Monday, September 25, 2006
Hi everyone,
Tuesday, 3:30 p.m. I am sitting in a puddle of my own sweat in Madang. I thought Moresby was hot. This is another thing altogether. Huuuuumid. But it's the prettiest place I've ever been. Beach-wise, of course.
The end of my stay in Goroka was pretty quiet. We shuttled between town and ples both days. I rested, hung out with family, took pictures, recorded a little. The last night we had a goodbye dinner for me. It was a little hectic, since Moses (my "uncle") is standing for election and every night people have come to hear his thoughts and collect money to give him their votes. Yes, this is PNG politics. The election isn't until 2007, and it will only get more frequent (and more stressful for the women in the family, who have to provide food and tea for the visitors). Apparently this goes on until morning...and people frequently die over elections. Strange.
Anyway, we had a quiet dinner of taro, potato, kumu (greens) and rice. Then everyone gave me goodbye gifts. Bilum after bilum after bilum. Note to Mom and man bilong mi, there's one for each of you in my bag. I have about 6 of my own, plus two highlands hats.
I flew out of Goroka on Monday morning, after the plane finally arrived. It was a DC-8, one of those tiny little ones with about 40 seats. I couldn't fit my recording equipment in the overhead "locker," so I stuffed everything around me. Spent much of the hour-long flight making faces at the four-month-old girl sitting next to me on her mother's lap. I think she was half fascinated and half terrified.
Got to Moresby and my new friend Violet was there to pick me up. She took me to her office and then we went to the government building where the Secretary of Environment and Conservation was waiting for me. We had a half-hour interview, and then I started to investigate getting permission to bring the tapa cloth, two wood carvings and highlands hat with cuscus fur out of the country and into Australia (en route to the U.S.). Australia is apparently quite strict about wood and fur products... We finally had to go so I could catch my plane to Madang. At the airport, the computers were down, the lines were long and I'm really lucky Violet's friend checked my bag in for me and prepped my ticket.
Ended up waiting for the flight with a PNG woman who was heading back to Madang from D.C. She was pissed because an Australian guy had just told her the country was full of "jungle men and women." When she called him on it and said he was being rude, he said he was sorry but it was true. She was full of "we should do this"s and "we should do that"s, tons of ideas about how to improve PNG. I wondered if that was because she works for an American NGO (Nature Conservancy) or because she just came back from the U.S.
On the flight I sat next to the Central Province Juniors Netball coach. I am still not sure what netball is. I think it's kind of like basketball, but not exactly the same thing. We landed in Madang and WHAM, the heat hit.
My American friend, his PNG girlfriend and their daughter were there to meet me. We're staying in Jais Aben, a resort area that is maybe 15k north of Madang town. It's a stunning, beautiful, quiet peninsula surrounded by islands and birds I've never heard before. I had dinner with some of the nationals who work with my friend's organization and an Australian guy named Manrico who's here to talk about union organization. We had the most depressing conversation I've ever participated in, focusing mainly on the importance of land in PNG life and the way the Australian government has treated the Aboriginals. It's ugly what that government has done.
The guys want to talk to me about definitions of poverty tonight, and I'm excited. They all believe that PNG being a nation of landowners means its people are not poor. They have what they need and they resent having the definition of "poor" placed upon them by developed nations. Very interesting.
I went into town this morning to meet Jil, the PNG woman who is starting up Pathfinder International in PNG. We had a nice chat (on tape) and I'm heading in again tomorrow. Hopefully, once her American counterpart arrives tomorrow, we can go out to the Rai Coast District of Madang Province, where the project will take place, and I can see what they're doing to set up family planning services in the region.
Walked to Best Buy (ALONE! SAFE!) to buy some biscuits and Orchy (a mango-orange drink) and then to ANZ Bank to cash the first of my travelers checks. Yes, I'm running out of money. My friend's girlfriend took my tapa cloth, wood carvings and cuscus hat to customs to be sprayed. I have to present this certificate of quarantine to the Australian customs officials when I arrive on October 1st. Cost me K40, but I think it's worth it to cover my butt. Back at Jais Aben now. I keep retreating to the fan when life gets too hot. I don't have money to go diving/snorkeling, but this is definitely the place to do it.
Back to town when the truck makes its town run tomorrow for more talking with Jil. I want to get more into the family planning concerns here in PNG. She's trained as a nurse and has worked as a health educator for 20 years or so, so she has lots to say about it.
I'm happy, healthy (post-Cipro) and loving having my own room and bathroom in a peaceful, beautiful place. I'll try to write more in the next few days. Hope you're all well too!
S.
Tuesday, 3:30 p.m. I am sitting in a puddle of my own sweat in Madang. I thought Moresby was hot. This is another thing altogether. Huuuuumid. But it's the prettiest place I've ever been. Beach-wise, of course.
The end of my stay in Goroka was pretty quiet. We shuttled between town and ples both days. I rested, hung out with family, took pictures, recorded a little. The last night we had a goodbye dinner for me. It was a little hectic, since Moses (my "uncle") is standing for election and every night people have come to hear his thoughts and collect money to give him their votes. Yes, this is PNG politics. The election isn't until 2007, and it will only get more frequent (and more stressful for the women in the family, who have to provide food and tea for the visitors). Apparently this goes on until morning...and people frequently die over elections. Strange.
Anyway, we had a quiet dinner of taro, potato, kumu (greens) and rice. Then everyone gave me goodbye gifts. Bilum after bilum after bilum. Note to Mom and man bilong mi, there's one for each of you in my bag. I have about 6 of my own, plus two highlands hats.
I flew out of Goroka on Monday morning, after the plane finally arrived. It was a DC-8, one of those tiny little ones with about 40 seats. I couldn't fit my recording equipment in the overhead "locker," so I stuffed everything around me. Spent much of the hour-long flight making faces at the four-month-old girl sitting next to me on her mother's lap. I think she was half fascinated and half terrified.
Got to Moresby and my new friend Violet was there to pick me up. She took me to her office and then we went to the government building where the Secretary of Environment and Conservation was waiting for me. We had a half-hour interview, and then I started to investigate getting permission to bring the tapa cloth, two wood carvings and highlands hat with cuscus fur out of the country and into Australia (en route to the U.S.). Australia is apparently quite strict about wood and fur products... We finally had to go so I could catch my plane to Madang. At the airport, the computers were down, the lines were long and I'm really lucky Violet's friend checked my bag in for me and prepped my ticket.
Ended up waiting for the flight with a PNG woman who was heading back to Madang from D.C. She was pissed because an Australian guy had just told her the country was full of "jungle men and women." When she called him on it and said he was being rude, he said he was sorry but it was true. She was full of "we should do this"s and "we should do that"s, tons of ideas about how to improve PNG. I wondered if that was because she works for an American NGO (Nature Conservancy) or because she just came back from the U.S.
On the flight I sat next to the Central Province Juniors Netball coach. I am still not sure what netball is. I think it's kind of like basketball, but not exactly the same thing. We landed in Madang and WHAM, the heat hit.
My American friend, his PNG girlfriend and their daughter were there to meet me. We're staying in Jais Aben, a resort area that is maybe 15k north of Madang town. It's a stunning, beautiful, quiet peninsula surrounded by islands and birds I've never heard before. I had dinner with some of the nationals who work with my friend's organization and an Australian guy named Manrico who's here to talk about union organization. We had the most depressing conversation I've ever participated in, focusing mainly on the importance of land in PNG life and the way the Australian government has treated the Aboriginals. It's ugly what that government has done.
The guys want to talk to me about definitions of poverty tonight, and I'm excited. They all believe that PNG being a nation of landowners means its people are not poor. They have what they need and they resent having the definition of "poor" placed upon them by developed nations. Very interesting.
I went into town this morning to meet Jil, the PNG woman who is starting up Pathfinder International in PNG. We had a nice chat (on tape) and I'm heading in again tomorrow. Hopefully, once her American counterpart arrives tomorrow, we can go out to the Rai Coast District of Madang Province, where the project will take place, and I can see what they're doing to set up family planning services in the region.
Walked to Best Buy (ALONE! SAFE!) to buy some biscuits and Orchy (a mango-orange drink) and then to ANZ Bank to cash the first of my travelers checks. Yes, I'm running out of money. My friend's girlfriend took my tapa cloth, wood carvings and cuscus hat to customs to be sprayed. I have to present this certificate of quarantine to the Australian customs officials when I arrive on October 1st. Cost me K40, but I think it's worth it to cover my butt. Back at Jais Aben now. I keep retreating to the fan when life gets too hot. I don't have money to go diving/snorkeling, but this is definitely the place to do it.
Back to town when the truck makes its town run tomorrow for more talking with Jil. I want to get more into the family planning concerns here in PNG. She's trained as a nurse and has worked as a health educator for 20 years or so, so she has lots to say about it.
I'm happy, healthy (post-Cipro) and loving having my own room and bathroom in a peaceful, beautiful place. I'll try to write more in the next few days. Hope you're all well too!
S.
Friday, September 22, 2006
Moning olgeta,
10:40 a.m. on Saturday. I managed to avoid Seventh Day Adventist church today by claiming I had lots of work to do on the internet. (See, Mom, it's not just in the U.S.!) It's been a little less busy over the last two days. On Thursday I met Josephine, a wonderful woman from Masi, a hauslain close to where I used to live on the road to Gahavisuka Provincial Park. She works at Telicom, the telephone company, and is such a joy to speak with. We stayed up late (11 p.m.) and storied and storied and storied. It was so nice to feel that immediate rapport with someone. To her I wasn't Sivirito (my ples name) -- I was Skye.
I've been chafing a little bit over the last two days, what with the constant family time and feeling a bit like a child. (Yes, I CAN walk alone to the Internet cafe. Yes, I DO know where the bathroom is in the office building after two weeks.) Usually I'm able to go to "my" room and close the door and rest for a while, but not always. I've tried to explain pasin bilong Amerika -- that sometimes I like to be wanstap, on my own, for a while. I know the constant attention is a form of affection, and I am trying to keep that in mind in the moments when I just want to walk away for a few minutes.
I don't mean to sound ungrateful, either. It's just that 16 days straight of family time is intense. I have to admit I am looking forward to flying to Madang, on the northern coast, on Monday morning. I'll be staying with an American and his PNG girlfriend, who run an NGO there.
Side note -- two old men are singing in their tok ples and pounding on drums outside the Internet cafe. Wish I had my recorder right now.
Yesterday we had a busy morning. We went to the Ifiufa Women's Resource Center and I interviewed the head of the women's center in English. We sat in a little makeshift church near her house, actually, on rough wooden pews. She said her women's group is working to do two things: improve literacy (maybe 40 women out of 1,000 in the village can read) and set up some kind of marketing program so women can sell their food without having to spend all day at Goroka Market just to make K20 (about $6.50).
People are starting to change their diet a little more and aren't eating as much garden kaikai (food). Now they're buying more tin fish, more Ox & Palm (a corned beef hash kind of thing, I think), eating bread for breakfast, etc. The cost of food has really gone on top in the last few years. Families here have to pay school fees if they want their children to attend school. It gets expensive quickly. And if they're fairly well off, as my aunt Delta and uncle Moses are, they have to provide for their family members and are CONSTANTLY doling out cash to them. It's expected of them.
Back to my interview with Cathy. She said she's been fairly successful with the literacy part, setting up literacy programs for women and men in Ifiufa. But the market idea is dead in the water. She says the government isn't making any effort to improve the situation and that needs to happen. I keep hearing this again and again: the government isn't working. The management is buggered up. Nothing happens. People only provide for their wantoks (family). Many women have said to me that they, women, have so many good ideas and they need to be in power to get things going.
Josephine also told me before that educated women are starting to say "Why do we need men at all? They just sit around. Why not live our own lives and just be single mothers? It wouldn't be that different." It's interesting to see some women so empowered while others do whatever their husbands tell them. The difference in work burdens between men and women is really, really obvious. Women cook, clean house, weed the gardens (and the gardens are ENORMOUS by American standards), take care of the kids, cook, clean the dishes, etc. Men dig ditches in the gardens, carry heavy things, build roundhouses. If they work in an office, they provide. But generally they sit around, talk with other men and play darts. Maybe they drink beer if they have money. Seriously, they get their pay and it goes to whatever they want before it goes to the family.
Enough on gender roles. The interview with Cathy was good. Her program is, as she says, an "eye-opener" in PNG and a lot of women are trying to set up similar programs around the country. It's exciting, even if it's moving slowly. She really sees her role as helping the women of her village to improve their lives.
We went to town after that to reconfirm my flight (which is Monday morning). Reconfirming one's flight in PNG is the BIGGEST WASTE OF TIME. It drives me crazy. We sat there for an hour while the Air Niugini employees sat around, didn't do much, etc. You have to reconfirm your flight or you'll lose it, even though you've already bought your ticket. I have to do this again once I'm in Madang, on the northern coast. I started to get very pissed off waiting and was trying so hard to check the ugly American inside me.
After that we went to Aka and Rossy's school, where they were having a "cross country" event at school. Races, high jump, etc. I started to REALLY chafe at family time. Let's just say low blood sugar, five forkfuls of spaghetti for breakfast and running out of "clean" water weren't a good combination. We sat around and picnicked for a while. Went back to the office eventually. My friend Anna, with whom I worked at J.K. McCarthy Museum last time I was here, came in to get a loan from MV Microfinance and we chatted for a while. It was great to see her! When Delta came back, we went to the Museum and I was able to sit and stori with my friend and former boss, Vince Pou, for a half-hour. He's doing some amazing things, expanding the museum's activities to include staff exchanges, offering cultural tours in various villages, and starting classes in museum studies at the University of Goroka. I'm really excited to see that the museum has come so far in the 7 years since I worked there.
I was really sad to hear that my friend Ivan Mbagintao died last year. I'd hoped to record an interview with him, since he has a really interesting story. A scientist from the U.S. named Carleton Gajdusek (sp?) came to the Fore region of Eastern Highlands in the 1950s to study kuru, a disease much like mad cow. It was tradition in the region for women and children to eat sections of men's brains when they died. This caused them to get really sick. Gajdusek studied this disease and eventually won a Nobel Prize for his work. He came to the region and hired some local boys to be his porters. Ivan was one of them. When Gajdusek left the region, he brought Ivan back to the States with him. Ivan schooled in Washington D.C. and lived there for a while before returning to PNG. His kids, too, schooled in D.C. He had an article from Time or Newsweek about him that I copied -- it's pretty awesome. So I was sorry to hear I couldn't stori with him about his experience. He died about a year ago, just a few months after he was retrenched.
Last night, my apo (namesake), Sivirito, storied in her language about growing up and the time when the whites came to PNG. She'd talk, and then somebody would stori in Tok Pisin. It was great to hear some of her stories. Seems like another lifetime ago... She got all excited and went and dug out her money from before, a spear that was used to kill men and a shell called a kina (same as the currency here) that used to be used as money before the whites came. I took a photo.
There are friends staying with Delta and Moses from Lae, the big coastal city at one end of the Highlands Highway. They came to see their adopted daughter, who's in the Goroka Hospital with depression right now. We have no water pump, and haven't for a few days. This means pouring water into the toilet before flushing. washing in a hose "shower" behind torn tarp walls while trying to move my feet so the grate I'm standing on doesn't cut them. It's invigorating... At least I'm trying to tell myself that! I'm constantly using this antibacterial stuff on my hands because I'm not able to wash them very often and I shake about 100 hands a day.
That's about it from here. I'm almost out of internet time. I hope you're all well. I go to Madang on Monday morning and will write more from there. Hopefully I can post pictures too! They're on my computer -- I just need to hook that up to an internet connection.
Lukim yupela.
S.
10:40 a.m. on Saturday. I managed to avoid Seventh Day Adventist church today by claiming I had lots of work to do on the internet. (See, Mom, it's not just in the U.S.!) It's been a little less busy over the last two days. On Thursday I met Josephine, a wonderful woman from Masi, a hauslain close to where I used to live on the road to Gahavisuka Provincial Park. She works at Telicom, the telephone company, and is such a joy to speak with. We stayed up late (11 p.m.) and storied and storied and storied. It was so nice to feel that immediate rapport with someone. To her I wasn't Sivirito (my ples name) -- I was Skye.
I've been chafing a little bit over the last two days, what with the constant family time and feeling a bit like a child. (Yes, I CAN walk alone to the Internet cafe. Yes, I DO know where the bathroom is in the office building after two weeks.) Usually I'm able to go to "my" room and close the door and rest for a while, but not always. I've tried to explain pasin bilong Amerika -- that sometimes I like to be wanstap, on my own, for a while. I know the constant attention is a form of affection, and I am trying to keep that in mind in the moments when I just want to walk away for a few minutes.
I don't mean to sound ungrateful, either. It's just that 16 days straight of family time is intense. I have to admit I am looking forward to flying to Madang, on the northern coast, on Monday morning. I'll be staying with an American and his PNG girlfriend, who run an NGO there.
Side note -- two old men are singing in their tok ples and pounding on drums outside the Internet cafe. Wish I had my recorder right now.
Yesterday we had a busy morning. We went to the Ifiufa Women's Resource Center and I interviewed the head of the women's center in English. We sat in a little makeshift church near her house, actually, on rough wooden pews. She said her women's group is working to do two things: improve literacy (maybe 40 women out of 1,000 in the village can read) and set up some kind of marketing program so women can sell their food without having to spend all day at Goroka Market just to make K20 (about $6.50).
People are starting to change their diet a little more and aren't eating as much garden kaikai (food). Now they're buying more tin fish, more Ox & Palm (a corned beef hash kind of thing, I think), eating bread for breakfast, etc. The cost of food has really gone on top in the last few years. Families here have to pay school fees if they want their children to attend school. It gets expensive quickly. And if they're fairly well off, as my aunt Delta and uncle Moses are, they have to provide for their family members and are CONSTANTLY doling out cash to them. It's expected of them.
Back to my interview with Cathy. She said she's been fairly successful with the literacy part, setting up literacy programs for women and men in Ifiufa. But the market idea is dead in the water. She says the government isn't making any effort to improve the situation and that needs to happen. I keep hearing this again and again: the government isn't working. The management is buggered up. Nothing happens. People only provide for their wantoks (family). Many women have said to me that they, women, have so many good ideas and they need to be in power to get things going.
Josephine also told me before that educated women are starting to say "Why do we need men at all? They just sit around. Why not live our own lives and just be single mothers? It wouldn't be that different." It's interesting to see some women so empowered while others do whatever their husbands tell them. The difference in work burdens between men and women is really, really obvious. Women cook, clean house, weed the gardens (and the gardens are ENORMOUS by American standards), take care of the kids, cook, clean the dishes, etc. Men dig ditches in the gardens, carry heavy things, build roundhouses. If they work in an office, they provide. But generally they sit around, talk with other men and play darts. Maybe they drink beer if they have money. Seriously, they get their pay and it goes to whatever they want before it goes to the family.
Enough on gender roles. The interview with Cathy was good. Her program is, as she says, an "eye-opener" in PNG and a lot of women are trying to set up similar programs around the country. It's exciting, even if it's moving slowly. She really sees her role as helping the women of her village to improve their lives.
We went to town after that to reconfirm my flight (which is Monday morning). Reconfirming one's flight in PNG is the BIGGEST WASTE OF TIME. It drives me crazy. We sat there for an hour while the Air Niugini employees sat around, didn't do much, etc. You have to reconfirm your flight or you'll lose it, even though you've already bought your ticket. I have to do this again once I'm in Madang, on the northern coast. I started to get very pissed off waiting and was trying so hard to check the ugly American inside me.
After that we went to Aka and Rossy's school, where they were having a "cross country" event at school. Races, high jump, etc. I started to REALLY chafe at family time. Let's just say low blood sugar, five forkfuls of spaghetti for breakfast and running out of "clean" water weren't a good combination. We sat around and picnicked for a while. Went back to the office eventually. My friend Anna, with whom I worked at J.K. McCarthy Museum last time I was here, came in to get a loan from MV Microfinance and we chatted for a while. It was great to see her! When Delta came back, we went to the Museum and I was able to sit and stori with my friend and former boss, Vince Pou, for a half-hour. He's doing some amazing things, expanding the museum's activities to include staff exchanges, offering cultural tours in various villages, and starting classes in museum studies at the University of Goroka. I'm really excited to see that the museum has come so far in the 7 years since I worked there.
I was really sad to hear that my friend Ivan Mbagintao died last year. I'd hoped to record an interview with him, since he has a really interesting story. A scientist from the U.S. named Carleton Gajdusek (sp?) came to the Fore region of Eastern Highlands in the 1950s to study kuru, a disease much like mad cow. It was tradition in the region for women and children to eat sections of men's brains when they died. This caused them to get really sick. Gajdusek studied this disease and eventually won a Nobel Prize for his work. He came to the region and hired some local boys to be his porters. Ivan was one of them. When Gajdusek left the region, he brought Ivan back to the States with him. Ivan schooled in Washington D.C. and lived there for a while before returning to PNG. His kids, too, schooled in D.C. He had an article from Time or Newsweek about him that I copied -- it's pretty awesome. So I was sorry to hear I couldn't stori with him about his experience. He died about a year ago, just a few months after he was retrenched.
Last night, my apo (namesake), Sivirito, storied in her language about growing up and the time when the whites came to PNG. She'd talk, and then somebody would stori in Tok Pisin. It was great to hear some of her stories. Seems like another lifetime ago... She got all excited and went and dug out her money from before, a spear that was used to kill men and a shell called a kina (same as the currency here) that used to be used as money before the whites came. I took a photo.
There are friends staying with Delta and Moses from Lae, the big coastal city at one end of the Highlands Highway. They came to see their adopted daughter, who's in the Goroka Hospital with depression right now. We have no water pump, and haven't for a few days. This means pouring water into the toilet before flushing. washing in a hose "shower" behind torn tarp walls while trying to move my feet so the grate I'm standing on doesn't cut them. It's invigorating... At least I'm trying to tell myself that! I'm constantly using this antibacterial stuff on my hands because I'm not able to wash them very often and I shake about 100 hands a day.
That's about it from here. I'm almost out of internet time. I hope you're all well. I go to Madang on Monday morning and will write more from there. Hopefully I can post pictures too! They're on my computer -- I just need to hook that up to an internet connection.
Lukim yupela.
S.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Moning olgeta,
12:20 p.m. on Thursday. I guess I should say "apinun" to everone.
I'm back among the living again! The voice has returned. I can't tell you how ironic it is that in a society that values conversation so much, I was mute for four days. Ah well. Makes me appreciate being healthy. Now I'm dealing with slight health problems of a different kind, of which I'll spare you the dirty details. The traveler's greatest joy. Still functional though.
Monday and Tuesday I was out of commission. Yesterday, Wednesday, we had a busy day. I began it by slipping on the house stairs and falling all the way down. (Note to man bilong mi -- it was kind of like that time I was sick in Brooklyn and fell down my cousin's stairs...) Got a big "ooooh" out of the men who were standing by my grandmother and grandfather's roundhouse. We went back to my aunt Delta's hauslain and interviewed her brother, George. He had worked with poverty alleviation programs (UN and PNG government) and had some interesting things to say -- in English -- about comparing PNG's poverty to that of other countries he's been to. Some unnamed individuals in the area showed me a bag full of an illicit substance they've harvested and intend to sell in the islands, where it's big money. Risky, but big money. Let's just say it was strong stuff. I had a cold and I could smell it. One guy is trying to start up a tourist center in the area and wanted to talk about what he hopes to do. This is an interesting village -- the power line goes right up to the haus kunai, or grass huts. But nobody can afford to pay the K1,000 (roughly $330) it would take to buy a meter box and pay for the connection fees. Not to mention the cost of power... So it's a striking image: haus kunai (grass huts), clothes on the bushes drying, a "bed" for drying coffee beans before they're sold, all the usual tropical flowers, kids running around with kus (snot) coming out of their noses, and a big power line behind it all. Kind of symbolizes PNG as it is right now.
Anyway, after that we went to the P/deK's homestay mother's village, where she showed us some bilums she made for the New South Wales Blues (rugby team). She gave me one and gave me one to take to the P/deK's oldest child. I snapped a few pictures. She was a funny woman. She talked in tok ples, so I didn't understand much of what she said, but everyone around her was cracking up nonstop. People laugh often here, much more frequently than in the U.S.
After that we went and recorded the singsings of some young guys from Kabiufa village. I'll take them back to the States and make a CD to send (along with a CD of all the pictures, the "washed" pictures and a CD of the reports I do). They were pretty good. PNG songs sound a lot like reggae, but more bouncy, if that makes sense. I used my stereo mike, 10 feet away, since they rented speakers and a mike etc. for the occasion. They're convinced this could be their lucky break, once I send the CD.
Did I mention this before, that things are changing so rapidly here? It's striking how many women are wearing trousers now. Some women think they're better than skirts/laplaps because people can't look up them. There are ATMs and even the internet cafe (!!) I'm currently writing from. The secondhand clothing stores are alive and well. Seeing as I've given away half my t-shirts, I'm contemplating buying one or two.
Today we're planning to go see the woman who heads the Ifiufa Womens Resource Center, if she's traveled back from Lae. Apparently she went there a week or two ago to market some food and hasn't come back yet. I haven't seen the place unlocked yet, so I have a feeling it's not used too frequently. But it could be interesting to see...
I have most of my sound from Goroka. I think the next few days will be more restful. My aunt, Delta, has caught my cold and I have a feeling she'll want to take it easy. It's been cold and rainy lately. Yesterday there was some sun and I walked around Goroka Market with my cousin Sebastion, carrying my stereo mike. It was kind of a nightmare. All eyes are on me anyway, since I'm a white-skinned woman in a country of dark-skinned people. But put headphones on me and walk me around with equipment dangling from my shoulders and it's quite a sight. Everyone hushed up, aside from some wise guys who shouted into the mike and caused temporary deafness. I hope it's good sound -- haven't gone back and listened yet.
Glad to hear via email that Thacher School is safe (at least so far) from that big fire in Ventura County. I heard via man bilong mi that there was a coup in Thailand. Better check the NY Times website before my hour of internet time is up...
Quickly, though, it's amazing how differently time passes here. The days are long and lingering, even when they're full of activities. Sun is up at 6 a.m.; it sets at 6 p.m. Because it's close to the equator, it doesn't change much. Few people wear watches. The things that matter to people are family, food and good conversation. There's something to be said about that. It makes me take another look at my priorities, which is always good. People may be poor by U.S. standards, disease may be a given, but this country is rich in natural resources, fertile ground, friendliness and the up-and-down of living in the moment.
What a gift to experience that for a month before I go back to the rush-rush of life in L.A. Even in the moments where I want desperately to be alone -- a given when you're staying with a family in the village -- I am able to step back and relish this, at least for a moment. It's so worth it and I am eternally grateful to the bigman who made this possible.
S.
12:20 p.m. on Thursday. I guess I should say "apinun" to everone.
I'm back among the living again! The voice has returned. I can't tell you how ironic it is that in a society that values conversation so much, I was mute for four days. Ah well. Makes me appreciate being healthy. Now I'm dealing with slight health problems of a different kind, of which I'll spare you the dirty details. The traveler's greatest joy. Still functional though.
Monday and Tuesday I was out of commission. Yesterday, Wednesday, we had a busy day. I began it by slipping on the house stairs and falling all the way down. (Note to man bilong mi -- it was kind of like that time I was sick in Brooklyn and fell down my cousin's stairs...) Got a big "ooooh" out of the men who were standing by my grandmother and grandfather's roundhouse. We went back to my aunt Delta's hauslain and interviewed her brother, George. He had worked with poverty alleviation programs (UN and PNG government) and had some interesting things to say -- in English -- about comparing PNG's poverty to that of other countries he's been to. Some unnamed individuals in the area showed me a bag full of an illicit substance they've harvested and intend to sell in the islands, where it's big money. Risky, but big money. Let's just say it was strong stuff. I had a cold and I could smell it. One guy is trying to start up a tourist center in the area and wanted to talk about what he hopes to do. This is an interesting village -- the power line goes right up to the haus kunai, or grass huts. But nobody can afford to pay the K1,000 (roughly $330) it would take to buy a meter box and pay for the connection fees. Not to mention the cost of power... So it's a striking image: haus kunai (grass huts), clothes on the bushes drying, a "bed" for drying coffee beans before they're sold, all the usual tropical flowers, kids running around with kus (snot) coming out of their noses, and a big power line behind it all. Kind of symbolizes PNG as it is right now.
Anyway, after that we went to the P/deK's homestay mother's village, where she showed us some bilums she made for the New South Wales Blues (rugby team). She gave me one and gave me one to take to the P/deK's oldest child. I snapped a few pictures. She was a funny woman. She talked in tok ples, so I didn't understand much of what she said, but everyone around her was cracking up nonstop. People laugh often here, much more frequently than in the U.S.
After that we went and recorded the singsings of some young guys from Kabiufa village. I'll take them back to the States and make a CD to send (along with a CD of all the pictures, the "washed" pictures and a CD of the reports I do). They were pretty good. PNG songs sound a lot like reggae, but more bouncy, if that makes sense. I used my stereo mike, 10 feet away, since they rented speakers and a mike etc. for the occasion. They're convinced this could be their lucky break, once I send the CD.
Did I mention this before, that things are changing so rapidly here? It's striking how many women are wearing trousers now. Some women think they're better than skirts/laplaps because people can't look up them. There are ATMs and even the internet cafe (!!) I'm currently writing from. The secondhand clothing stores are alive and well. Seeing as I've given away half my t-shirts, I'm contemplating buying one or two.
Today we're planning to go see the woman who heads the Ifiufa Womens Resource Center, if she's traveled back from Lae. Apparently she went there a week or two ago to market some food and hasn't come back yet. I haven't seen the place unlocked yet, so I have a feeling it's not used too frequently. But it could be interesting to see...
I have most of my sound from Goroka. I think the next few days will be more restful. My aunt, Delta, has caught my cold and I have a feeling she'll want to take it easy. It's been cold and rainy lately. Yesterday there was some sun and I walked around Goroka Market with my cousin Sebastion, carrying my stereo mike. It was kind of a nightmare. All eyes are on me anyway, since I'm a white-skinned woman in a country of dark-skinned people. But put headphones on me and walk me around with equipment dangling from my shoulders and it's quite a sight. Everyone hushed up, aside from some wise guys who shouted into the mike and caused temporary deafness. I hope it's good sound -- haven't gone back and listened yet.
Glad to hear via email that Thacher School is safe (at least so far) from that big fire in Ventura County. I heard via man bilong mi that there was a coup in Thailand. Better check the NY Times website before my hour of internet time is up...
Quickly, though, it's amazing how differently time passes here. The days are long and lingering, even when they're full of activities. Sun is up at 6 a.m.; it sets at 6 p.m. Because it's close to the equator, it doesn't change much. Few people wear watches. The things that matter to people are family, food and good conversation. There's something to be said about that. It makes me take another look at my priorities, which is always good. People may be poor by U.S. standards, disease may be a given, but this country is rich in natural resources, fertile ground, friendliness and the up-and-down of living in the moment.
What a gift to experience that for a month before I go back to the rush-rush of life in L.A. Even in the moments where I want desperately to be alone -- a given when you're staying with a family in the village -- I am able to step back and relish this, at least for a moment. It's so worth it and I am eternally grateful to the bigman who made this possible.
S.
Monday, September 18, 2006
Moning olgeta,
It's 10:20 a.m. Tuesday morning. It's been raining much of the morning. Taim bilong rain. I've been pretty sick for the last three days or so. Laryngitis for the last three days. Typical cold, I think, but I'm monitoring to see if it's bronchitis. I knew this was bound to happen sooner or later.
The Goroka Show was last weekend. What an awesome display of feathers and face paint (red, yellow and white dominated), tanget plants covering backsides and boobs all over the place. There were dozens of groups dancing their traditional dances and singing their traditional songs. It was so amazing to be in the middle of it all. Even though I didn't feel well, I recorded a lots of the singsings as they came by. Also did some interviews and specific recording of a Lufa group playing giant bamboo pipes with thongs, a Chimbu group that did this amazing head-turning, another Chimbu group that played bamboo pipes, etc. There's enough there to make a nice audio postcard.
The only downside of the two-day event was the fact that the hundreds of people who didn't get inside weren't too happy and started throwing stones over the fence. Most people knew enough to run and go inside, but a few unlucky ones got hit. And when I say hit, I mean hit hard. My cousin Jerry said he could see the brain of one man who got hit. Apparently a white tourist got hit too. But this was just an afternoon thing. For the most part it was a joyous display of color and pride in tradition.
Yesterday was quiet. I stayed home and, honestly, slept or read most of the day. We took the two women who run Delta's Pro-Ma Products group in PNG to the afternoon flight out to Port Moresby. They'd been staying the weekend. Of course the water pump buggered up the day before they arrived. The family was able to jimmy together something to make it work, and now it seems okay. But it's been an interesting weekend. I think I'm going soft, more than I'd like to admit. I really, really like having running water and a toilet.
Anyway, I guess that's about it. I have to hurry because internet is expensive and I'm hogging the phone line. All's well here. Hope you're doing well.
S.
It's 10:20 a.m. Tuesday morning. It's been raining much of the morning. Taim bilong rain. I've been pretty sick for the last three days or so. Laryngitis for the last three days. Typical cold, I think, but I'm monitoring to see if it's bronchitis. I knew this was bound to happen sooner or later.
The Goroka Show was last weekend. What an awesome display of feathers and face paint (red, yellow and white dominated), tanget plants covering backsides and boobs all over the place. There were dozens of groups dancing their traditional dances and singing their traditional songs. It was so amazing to be in the middle of it all. Even though I didn't feel well, I recorded a lots of the singsings as they came by. Also did some interviews and specific recording of a Lufa group playing giant bamboo pipes with thongs, a Chimbu group that did this amazing head-turning, another Chimbu group that played bamboo pipes, etc. There's enough there to make a nice audio postcard.
The only downside of the two-day event was the fact that the hundreds of people who didn't get inside weren't too happy and started throwing stones over the fence. Most people knew enough to run and go inside, but a few unlucky ones got hit. And when I say hit, I mean hit hard. My cousin Jerry said he could see the brain of one man who got hit. Apparently a white tourist got hit too. But this was just an afternoon thing. For the most part it was a joyous display of color and pride in tradition.
Yesterday was quiet. I stayed home and, honestly, slept or read most of the day. We took the two women who run Delta's Pro-Ma Products group in PNG to the afternoon flight out to Port Moresby. They'd been staying the weekend. Of course the water pump buggered up the day before they arrived. The family was able to jimmy together something to make it work, and now it seems okay. But it's been an interesting weekend. I think I'm going soft, more than I'd like to admit. I really, really like having running water and a toilet.
Anyway, I guess that's about it. I have to hurry because internet is expensive and I'm hogging the phone line. All's well here. Hope you're doing well.
S.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Apinun,
It's almost 1 p.m. on Friday here. It's been a busy couple of days. Yesterday I went with Delta and Moses, my aunt and uncle, to Delta's village. We parked their car and walked down a steep hill -- past incredibly lush gardens full of bananas, kaukau (sweet potato), corn, peanuts, Chinese cabbage and even an illegal substance I won't name -- to where everyone was gathered to celebrate a new coffee machine that will help harvest all the coffee they pick off their trees. There were pounds and pounds of lamb flaps and chickens, all kinds of kumu (greens), and a mountain of cooking bananas that the men were tying together in small bunches. Some men were tending the fire, heating up stones that they put inside of banana leaves with the greens. Once they wrap up the package, they bury it underground and let it cook for an hour or two. This is the mumu in all its glory. I recorded and snapped pictures. Then we hiked back up the mountain. Let's just say it was the most exercise I've had since I left L.A.
Last night I talked with Moses and Delta in English (all my interviews so far have been in Tok Pisin) about some of the general customs of PNG. Gender roles, the importance of family, poverty, etc. It was an amazing 45-minute conversation and will, I think, be the backbone of a lot of what I do when I put my pieces together.
Today I recorded while Delta's parents dressed her daughter Rossy up in bilas. That's a traditional costume. Rossy and Aka's school had an Independence Day celebration, so Rossy put on pulpul (kind of a grass skirt), all kinds of woven and beaded belts, shell necklaces, a necklace of balls of kapul fur, a Highlands hat, and a few feathers in her cap. She looked awesome. As soon as I can, I'll post pictures. That may not be until after the 25th of September. Anyway, we attended the celebration. I tried to record but am not sure if it came out well or not.
All right, time for me to get off the phone line and get back to writing postcards.
Hope you're all well!
S.
It's almost 1 p.m. on Friday here. It's been a busy couple of days. Yesterday I went with Delta and Moses, my aunt and uncle, to Delta's village. We parked their car and walked down a steep hill -- past incredibly lush gardens full of bananas, kaukau (sweet potato), corn, peanuts, Chinese cabbage and even an illegal substance I won't name -- to where everyone was gathered to celebrate a new coffee machine that will help harvest all the coffee they pick off their trees. There were pounds and pounds of lamb flaps and chickens, all kinds of kumu (greens), and a mountain of cooking bananas that the men were tying together in small bunches. Some men were tending the fire, heating up stones that they put inside of banana leaves with the greens. Once they wrap up the package, they bury it underground and let it cook for an hour or two. This is the mumu in all its glory. I recorded and snapped pictures. Then we hiked back up the mountain. Let's just say it was the most exercise I've had since I left L.A.
Last night I talked with Moses and Delta in English (all my interviews so far have been in Tok Pisin) about some of the general customs of PNG. Gender roles, the importance of family, poverty, etc. It was an amazing 45-minute conversation and will, I think, be the backbone of a lot of what I do when I put my pieces together.
Today I recorded while Delta's parents dressed her daughter Rossy up in bilas. That's a traditional costume. Rossy and Aka's school had an Independence Day celebration, so Rossy put on pulpul (kind of a grass skirt), all kinds of woven and beaded belts, shell necklaces, a necklace of balls of kapul fur, a Highlands hat, and a few feathers in her cap. She looked awesome. As soon as I can, I'll post pictures. That may not be until after the 25th of September. Anyway, we attended the celebration. I tried to record but am not sure if it came out well or not.
All right, time for me to get off the phone line and get back to writing postcards.
Hope you're all well!
S.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Hi everyone,
I’m writing this on Word and then pasting to the internet, so please forgive any overlap in Q&A…
It’s 9:30 a.m. on September 13th (Wednesday, I think). We had an interesting day yesterday. We went along the hauslain (houseline – where the extended family lives) and recorded some stories from women and men who live there. They talked about what they grow in their gardens, how many children they have, wives they’ve lost, etc. One man even sang two songs – he’s written one for each of the six women who have left him. My aunt, Fis Meri, talked about the bilas (costumes people wear for special occasions like Goroka Show) and billums (the bags that women make all over PNG). My namesake, Sivirito and two other old men and women sang one singsing too.
The low point of the day was the accident that happened when we finished going around and came back to the house. There are three dogs that look out for the property, and one of them ran in front of the car and got hit. He went and laid down, breathing heavily. It was obvious he was dying. Everyone crowded around him. I just pet him and “shhshhd”. They fed him a little water, but he eventually stopped breathing. I cried. Then Aka and Jerry, my two cousins, buried him in the garden. I recorded and took some pictures.
At night I cooked some spaghetti and sauce for the extended family. I don’t think they like it every much. Then I gave the t-shirts, trousers, and necklaces I’d brought to all my family members. I think they liked those a little better. They’re all going to wear them on Sunday when they go around at the Goroka Show.
When I woke up, the mother of the P/deKs was at our house. She had heard we visited Meteufa and wanted to talk a little bit into my microphone. I took a picture. Then the homestay father of the C/S family in Minnesota happened to come to the house. I took a picture of him, passed on the baby news and gave him their address.
Today we went and dropped off some of the extended family members at the bik wara (big water), where they’ll wash the bedding. We’re going to Delta’s hauslain, Ifiufa, this afternoon to gather more stories.
That’s about it from here. I haven’t seen a newspaper in days. I have no idea what happened on the September 11th anniversary. I have no idea what’s going on anywhere but in my hauslain, and that’s kind of nice, for a change.
I hope you’re all happy and healthy. I look forward to seeing you in a few weeks. I’ll write soon with more news…
S.
I’m writing this on Word and then pasting to the internet, so please forgive any overlap in Q&A…
It’s 9:30 a.m. on September 13th (Wednesday, I think). We had an interesting day yesterday. We went along the hauslain (houseline – where the extended family lives) and recorded some stories from women and men who live there. They talked about what they grow in their gardens, how many children they have, wives they’ve lost, etc. One man even sang two songs – he’s written one for each of the six women who have left him. My aunt, Fis Meri, talked about the bilas (costumes people wear for special occasions like Goroka Show) and billums (the bags that women make all over PNG). My namesake, Sivirito and two other old men and women sang one singsing too.
The low point of the day was the accident that happened when we finished going around and came back to the house. There are three dogs that look out for the property, and one of them ran in front of the car and got hit. He went and laid down, breathing heavily. It was obvious he was dying. Everyone crowded around him. I just pet him and “shhshhd”. They fed him a little water, but he eventually stopped breathing. I cried. Then Aka and Jerry, my two cousins, buried him in the garden. I recorded and took some pictures.
At night I cooked some spaghetti and sauce for the extended family. I don’t think they like it every much. Then I gave the t-shirts, trousers, and necklaces I’d brought to all my family members. I think they liked those a little better. They’re all going to wear them on Sunday when they go around at the Goroka Show.
When I woke up, the mother of the P/deKs was at our house. She had heard we visited Meteufa and wanted to talk a little bit into my microphone. I took a picture. Then the homestay father of the C/S family in Minnesota happened to come to the house. I took a picture of him, passed on the baby news and gave him their address.
Today we went and dropped off some of the extended family members at the bik wara (big water), where they’ll wash the bedding. We’re going to Delta’s hauslain, Ifiufa, this afternoon to gather more stories.
That’s about it from here. I haven’t seen a newspaper in days. I have no idea what happened on the September 11th anniversary. I have no idea what’s going on anywhere but in my hauslain, and that’s kind of nice, for a change.
I hope you’re all happy and healthy. I look forward to seeing you in a few weeks. I’ll write soon with more news…
S.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Hello everyone! I’m writing from Goroka, from the office my family has in town. Their business is called MV Microfinance. Things are different for sure. Last time I lived in a grass hut. This time I’m staying on a bunkbed in a “haus kapa” (tin-roofed house). There’s electricity. There’s solar heated water, even though the water pump is a little testy.
It’s been a busy couple of days. I got to Goroka on Saturday morning. Sat next to a nice government guy from the Ministry of Petroleum an we talked about the U.S. He’d been to Austin and Denver 12 years before. I got to Goroka, got a ride from a nice Australian guy to the Lutheran Guest House and dropped my bags there. Then I walked to the store, bought some bottled water and caught a PMV (van) to my village, Kabiufa. I spent the whole day there. I got a wicked sunburn on my neck that’s still throbbing. I’ve learned my lesson about being high up in the mountains and not putting on sunscreen.
My “apo” (namesake) cried and cried at my feet when I came back. We sat down and looked at my pictures. We storied. We walked around the garden. I caught up with Papa Pirua, my grandfather, and Pis Mary, my aunt. We sat in their roundhouse and ate some watermelon. It was a day full of the same stories about where I’ve been and what I’ve done. Jenny, my mama, came out to see me. Then Moses and Delta, my aunt and uncle who own the big house, came back from camping. They drove me back to the guesthouse after I explained I’d already bought the room. The next morning they got me from the guesthouse and took me back to Kabiufa.
Village life is exhausting sometimes. Everyone wants to shake my hand. Everyone wants to story and EVERYONE stares. But, as always, this is the most welcoming place I know. Today we went out to a place called Meteufa to deliver some pictures of my friends, the P/deKs, and to record some stories. We took a few pictures and then storied some more and then headed out. We also went to a place called Asaro to see if the Mudmen would talk with me. They asked for 1200 kina payment ($400) and I said it wasn’t American custom to pay money for an interview, but I could give them a CD. They said some other journalists paid, and so we said thanks for telling us how it goes. One man from Asaro felt sorry for us, so he said to come back later and talk with him. Then we went to the J.K. McCarthy Museum, where I worked back in 1999. My former boss Vince gave me an update. It looks good. They’re doing all kinds of outreach projects now. The governor of EHP was in the museum, this bald Australian man named Mal “Kela” Smith. He complimented me on my Tok Pisin.
The Goroka Show starts on Friday, and it’s already a big thing. Tourists and people from other villages are arriving and the town is more full than usual. It’s the 31st anniversary of the country’s independence, in addition to being the biggest event in Goroka.
It’s good, but exhausting, to be back. I’m going to sleep at 8 and 9 p.m. and waking up at 6. I’m eating well, my family is looking out for me, and we’re going pretty much everywhere in a private car. No stomach problems yet, knock on wood. So don’t worry. All is well.
I hope you’re all doing well. Please send email updates. I’ll try to check it when I can. Talk to you soon!
S.
It’s been a busy couple of days. I got to Goroka on Saturday morning. Sat next to a nice government guy from the Ministry of Petroleum an we talked about the U.S. He’d been to Austin and Denver 12 years before. I got to Goroka, got a ride from a nice Australian guy to the Lutheran Guest House and dropped my bags there. Then I walked to the store, bought some bottled water and caught a PMV (van) to my village, Kabiufa. I spent the whole day there. I got a wicked sunburn on my neck that’s still throbbing. I’ve learned my lesson about being high up in the mountains and not putting on sunscreen.
My “apo” (namesake) cried and cried at my feet when I came back. We sat down and looked at my pictures. We storied. We walked around the garden. I caught up with Papa Pirua, my grandfather, and Pis Mary, my aunt. We sat in their roundhouse and ate some watermelon. It was a day full of the same stories about where I’ve been and what I’ve done. Jenny, my mama, came out to see me. Then Moses and Delta, my aunt and uncle who own the big house, came back from camping. They drove me back to the guesthouse after I explained I’d already bought the room. The next morning they got me from the guesthouse and took me back to Kabiufa.
Village life is exhausting sometimes. Everyone wants to shake my hand. Everyone wants to story and EVERYONE stares. But, as always, this is the most welcoming place I know. Today we went out to a place called Meteufa to deliver some pictures of my friends, the P/deKs, and to record some stories. We took a few pictures and then storied some more and then headed out. We also went to a place called Asaro to see if the Mudmen would talk with me. They asked for 1200 kina payment ($400) and I said it wasn’t American custom to pay money for an interview, but I could give them a CD. They said some other journalists paid, and so we said thanks for telling us how it goes. One man from Asaro felt sorry for us, so he said to come back later and talk with him. Then we went to the J.K. McCarthy Museum, where I worked back in 1999. My former boss Vince gave me an update. It looks good. They’re doing all kinds of outreach projects now. The governor of EHP was in the museum, this bald Australian man named Mal “Kela” Smith. He complimented me on my Tok Pisin.
The Goroka Show starts on Friday, and it’s already a big thing. Tourists and people from other villages are arriving and the town is more full than usual. It’s the 31st anniversary of the country’s independence, in addition to being the biggest event in Goroka.
It’s good, but exhausting, to be back. I’m going to sleep at 8 and 9 p.m. and waking up at 6. I’m eating well, my family is looking out for me, and we’re going pretty much everywhere in a private car. No stomach problems yet, knock on wood. So don’t worry. All is well.
I hope you’re all doing well. Please send email updates. I’ll try to check it when I can. Talk to you soon!
S.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
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.
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.
Monday, September 04, 2006
Hi all,
I leave tonight. I'm all kinds of distracted today. My clothes, liquids and gifts for the family are in piles on my bed. Better find a bag soon! Still have to test the radio equipment too...
I think I made the proper change so that anyone can comment on the blog, not just registered users. Ms G. (and everyone else), let me know if it works.
I can't believe that in 24 hours I'll be looking the other way first on the street. Took the first malarone malaria pill today. Printed out some pictures of the P/deK family to take to their homestay family in Meteufa -- a little further out from Goroka than my village, Kabiufa. I can't wait to see their faces when they see the pictures. Hey, I should try to record messages for the P/deKs from their homestay family. How does that sound?
The flight to Brisbane is 13 hours, then a 6-hour layover, then 3 1/2 hours to Port Moresby. Ugh. I'm bringing "Pretty Little Dirty" and two New Yorkers to tide me over.
Anyway, happy trails to all of you. In Tok Pisin, we say lukim yu. Translation: see you later. Talk to you in a while...from the other side of the world.
I leave tonight. I'm all kinds of distracted today. My clothes, liquids and gifts for the family are in piles on my bed. Better find a bag soon! Still have to test the radio equipment too...
I think I made the proper change so that anyone can comment on the blog, not just registered users. Ms G. (and everyone else), let me know if it works.
I can't believe that in 24 hours I'll be looking the other way first on the street. Took the first malarone malaria pill today. Printed out some pictures of the P/deK family to take to their homestay family in Meteufa -- a little further out from Goroka than my village, Kabiufa. I can't wait to see their faces when they see the pictures. Hey, I should try to record messages for the P/deKs from their homestay family. How does that sound?
The flight to Brisbane is 13 hours, then a 6-hour layover, then 3 1/2 hours to Port Moresby. Ugh. I'm bringing "Pretty Little Dirty" and two New Yorkers to tide me over.
Anyway, happy trails to all of you. In Tok Pisin, we say lukim yu. Translation: see you later. Talk to you in a while...from the other side of the world.
Friday, September 01, 2006
Here are a few pictures from my time in Goroka in 1999...
Ekeka, where I lived in Kabiufa
My family
My mama, Jenny (age 19)
My grandmother and apo (namesake), Sivirito
My grandfather, Papa Pirua, cuts sugarcane from the garden
One day a hornbill came to visit... My cousin Skita and I were impressed.
This is how you wash in a calf-deep stream
With my boss, Vince, outside the J.K. McCarthy Museum
Bilas (costume) at the Goroka Cultural Show
Asaro Mudmen at the Goroka Cultural Show
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