Oh bed!
Thank you for being Mine!
For being soft at first
letting me seep into your cushions with a sigh
quite unlike the bed of Madang
but not letting this be a curse
but having a firmness upon which I can rely
keeping my back from tremendous pain
sinking too far into a too soft pallet
the pains of Nobnob are long forgotten
Oh pillow!
Thank you for being mine!
for being thick enough that I know you're there
supporting me and my humid-frizzy hair
The couch pillows never reassured me so
and for being not so overstuffed that you keep me up
a 45 degree angle from my body made sleeping tough
the Madang never let my head lay low
Oh room!
Thank you for being mine!
devoid of roaches and mold
the duplex had no such claim to fame
for being lacking in rats and bats
whereas the clinic overflowed with this small game
Oh shower!
...
thank you for giving me something to look forward to
so that the thought of Madang wouldn't make me blue
but your pressure is depressing
and the water tank I'm missing
And Madang has you beat.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Sunday, August 8, 2010
The Cockroach Chronicles
Samban was too easy for me apparently. Apparently, I needed to experience a trial. Well, I did promptly on my return from the village, in the same house as I was before, in which there was no incident, now there were many.
July 10th, 3am – Deep in sleep, something tickled my shoulder. Unconsciously reaching to soothe irritated skin, I felt something that jerked me awake, something suspiciously similar to a spider’s leg. (I hate spiders). I got up. Black. Couldn’t see. Swept my hands over the bed. The search for the little devil was fruitless. I reached to touch my offended shoulder. I found a tangle as I reached into my hair. Content that it might have been the culprit, I fell back soundly asleep.
But once again my same shoulder was disturbed. This time when I went to touch it, I seemed to grab the villain. As the side of its body cut into my hand, I threw it away from me. Leapt to the light. Searched the room. Nothing was found.
So I crept into the living room where Lindy slept on the couch and curled up on the other couch until daybreak.
July 11th, 4am – I woke to the feeling of the perpetrator crawling between my knees. I jumped up and turned on the lights. Now that I was no longer thrashing, it began to resume crawling all over my sheets. All over my sheets! I took a photo. Proof. I then decided that it needed to be murdered in an aggressive fashion. But if I tried to crush it while it was on the bed then it wouldn’t be efficiently squashed and would be aware of my ill intent. So I waited until it scurried to a hard place. It ran up the post of the bed and, sadly, under the towel hanging there. So I picked up the towel and dropped it hastily on the floor. But as I did so, I noticed something fall with style to the side. The Roach. I couldn’t see it. I bent to inspect the dirty clothes basket to see if that was where it hid, but in my peripheral I saw a shot of movement and the roach was on
the bookshelf a mere 6 inches from my face. I slowly moved back and drew up my shoe. Just as I was about to administer the lethal blow, it flew at my face. I scream, dropped the shoe, and frantically pulled at the unlocked door’s lock, cursing a gecko as it laughed at my plight. I then sat on the couch I had visited the night before and cried for an hour. If there’s anything I hate more than spider’s it’s roaches. I hate them passionately! And not only are they in my room but I can’t sleep because they’re crawling on me! I just want to sleep and these horrible disgusting pasts won’t leave me be. So I cried. I wondered if I could stay awake until morning and just not go back to sleep, but as my eyes drooped, I knew that wasn’t possible. An hour or so later, I slept.
July 12th, 12am – I had just gotten out of the shower and was preparing to curl up on the couch in the living room (nevermind my room, that was obviously unsuccessful). I had climbed into my sheets and rolled over to face the wall. When a huge roach scurried down the wall behind the couch.
“For real!” I roared in indignation as I leapt from the couch.
“It’s just a gecko,” Lindy assured me.
“No it’s not!” but after a moment I decided that Lindy must have had a reason to say such a thing, so I inquired.
“I saw a gecko climb down there when you were in the shower. I even went to check that it was a gecko.”
I flipped the switch and pulled the couch from the wall. The gecko of which Lindy spoke was long gone and in its place was the Roach.
I let out another roar of anger. Lindy killed it and I pulled the couch into the center of the floor so that wall crawling roaches would be obligated to take another step in order to run their filthy feelers over my body again.
In following days, roaches have been sighted a many a time, but, thank God, they have stayed to the floor and not to my flesh.
July 10th, 3am – Deep in sleep, something tickled my shoulder. Unconsciously reaching to soothe irritated skin, I felt something that jerked me awake, something suspiciously similar to a spider’s leg. (I hate spiders). I got up. Black. Couldn’t see. Swept my hands over the bed. The search for the little devil was fruitless. I reached to touch my offended shoulder. I found a tangle as I reached into my hair. Content that it might have been the culprit, I fell back soundly asleep.
But once again my same shoulder was disturbed. This time when I went to touch it, I seemed to grab the villain. As the side of its body cut into my hand, I threw it away from me. Leapt to the light. Searched the room. Nothing was found.
So I crept into the living room where Lindy slept on the couch and curled up on the other couch until daybreak.
July 11th, 4am – I woke to the feeling of the perpetrator crawling between my knees. I jumped up and turned on the lights. Now that I was no longer thrashing, it began to resume crawling all over my sheets. All over my sheets! I took a photo. Proof. I then decided that it needed to be murdered in an aggressive fashion. But if I tried to crush it while it was on the bed then it wouldn’t be efficiently squashed and would be aware of my ill intent. So I waited until it scurried to a hard place. It ran up the post of the bed and, sadly, under the towel hanging there. So I picked up the towel and dropped it hastily on the floor. But as I did so, I noticed something fall with style to the side. The Roach. I couldn’t see it. I bent to inspect the dirty clothes basket to see if that was where it hid, but in my peripheral I saw a shot of movement and the roach was on
the bookshelf a mere 6 inches from my face. I slowly moved back and drew up my shoe. Just as I was about to administer the lethal blow, it flew at my face. I scream, dropped the shoe, and frantically pulled at the unlocked door’s lock, cursing a gecko as it laughed at my plight. I then sat on the couch I had visited the night before and cried for an hour. If there’s anything I hate more than spider’s it’s roaches. I hate them passionately! And not only are they in my room but I can’t sleep because they’re crawling on me! I just want to sleep and these horrible disgusting pasts won’t leave me be. So I cried. I wondered if I could stay awake until morning and just not go back to sleep, but as my eyes drooped, I knew that wasn’t possible. An hour or so later, I slept.
July 12th, 12am – I had just gotten out of the shower and was preparing to curl up on the couch in the living room (nevermind my room, that was obviously unsuccessful). I had climbed into my sheets and rolled over to face the wall. When a huge roach scurried down the wall behind the couch.
“For real!” I roared in indignation as I leapt from the couch.
“It’s just a gecko,” Lindy assured me.
“No it’s not!” but after a moment I decided that Lindy must have had a reason to say such a thing, so I inquired.
“I saw a gecko climb down there when you were in the shower. I even went to check that it was a gecko.”
I flipped the switch and pulled the couch from the wall. The gecko of which Lindy spoke was long gone and in its place was the Roach.
I let out another roar of anger. Lindy killed it and I pulled the couch into the center of the floor so that wall crawling roaches would be obligated to take another step in order to run their filthy feelers over my body again.
In following days, roaches have been sighted a many a time, but, thank God, they have stayed to the floor and not to my flesh.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
The First Day in the Bush
I consider the first day to be the first FULL day.
The night was miserable. No pillow plus little support from the one inch thick mattress made my neck scream in misery. I woke in the middle of the night and had to use the filthy bucket toilet. (definitely not going to fly when I live here long-term) and in the morning I got my first bucket shower. The freezing water was not awesome.
I longed for better times out and about. And I got them.
Lindy took Kristen and I to where the women were making saksak, a starch similar to flour. After sitting down and talking a little with the women, Kristen asked if she could try sigrapim saksak (scraping saksak) out of the sago tree. They let her and after a bit she passed it off to me. It was hard work and we weren't very good at it at all. It involved taking a pick-ax like thing and hitting it againt the inside of the tree to scrap it out into a bunch of little splinters.
The next step in the process is wasim saksak (washing) where you put the splinters into a mesh and pour water over it. then the splinters are wrung and the water drips white. A finer mesh better filters the white water and it falls into a canoe. In this process the baby IS the bath water. The canoe is then covered until the excess water evaporates and a powder is all that's left behind. The powder is the saksak.
The night was miserable. No pillow plus little support from the one inch thick mattress made my neck scream in misery. I woke in the middle of the night and had to use the filthy bucket toilet. (definitely not going to fly when I live here long-term) and in the morning I got my first bucket shower. The freezing water was not awesome.
I longed for better times out and about. And I got them.
Lindy took Kristen and I to where the women were making saksak, a starch similar to flour. After sitting down and talking a little with the women, Kristen asked if she could try sigrapim saksak (scraping saksak) out of the sago tree. They let her and after a bit she passed it off to me. It was hard work and we weren't very good at it at all. It involved taking a pick-ax like thing and hitting it againt the inside of the tree to scrap it out into a bunch of little splinters.
The next step in the process is wasim saksak (washing) where you put the splinters into a mesh and pour water over it. then the splinters are wrung and the water drips white. A finer mesh better filters the white water and it falls into a canoe. In this process the baby IS the bath water. The canoe is then covered until the excess water evaporates and a powder is all that's left behind. The powder is the saksak.
Plane Day
We went to the airport.
We came back from the airport.
We waited for an hour.
We waited for another hour.
We where told when our plane would leave.
We went to the airport.
We waited another hour.
We finally got on the plane.
Upon our arrival, a singsing was preformed to amamas us (show us their joy at our arrival).
It was a long mile to the house of the missionaries as we walked between two walls of scantily clad, chanting and dancing men and children. When we got to the house we were given a kulow, a wet coconut unlike the dry coconuts we buy at the store. The wet coconuts have more milk and less meat. Kulow was never so good as on that day!
We then walked another mile to the house where we would stay. There I found a ginormous spider. The size of my hand. The house was covered in spider webs. Bugs everywhere. Clutter too. In a very little house. It took a moment or two to adjust to it and then I was fine. The some of the other team members didn't adjust so well.
But such is life in the bush. And life in the bush is whatever you make it to be. The missionary there didn't have arachnophobia and appreciated the spiders consumption of mosquitoes and their webs ability to catch them. So she let them linger in order to spare her the mosquitoes unorthodox weight loss program.
We came back from the airport.
We waited for an hour.
We waited for another hour.
We where told when our plane would leave.
We went to the airport.
We waited another hour.
We finally got on the plane.
Upon our arrival, a singsing was preformed to amamas us (show us their joy at our arrival).
It was a long mile to the house of the missionaries as we walked between two walls of scantily clad, chanting and dancing men and children. When we got to the house we were given a kulow, a wet coconut unlike the dry coconuts we buy at the store. The wet coconuts have more milk and less meat. Kulow was never so good as on that day!
We then walked another mile to the house where we would stay. There I found a ginormous spider. The size of my hand. The house was covered in spider webs. Bugs everywhere. Clutter too. In a very little house. It took a moment or two to adjust to it and then I was fine. The some of the other team members didn't adjust so well.
But such is life in the bush. And life in the bush is whatever you make it to be. The missionary there didn't have arachnophobia and appreciated the spiders consumption of mosquitoes and their webs ability to catch them. So she let them linger in order to spare her the mosquitoes unorthodox weight loss program.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Samban overview
For two weeks, I've been in the jungle.
I lived in a bush house with a bucket shower and bucket toilet. For the first 4 days, a 6*2 1" thick mat covered in a mosquito net was my sanctuary. After that we moved down to the main part of Samban (we were originally in Nupela Painiten), where missionaries from Outreach International were located. They lived in an Americanized house. (During the first year or so, missionaries stay in bush houses until they've found just the right plae amidst just the right dialect to set up a more costly establishment.)
While in Samban, I learn how to scrap saksak (a starch akin to flour), wash saksak, cook saksak, make a belum (a purse of sorts), and I got along on my Tok Pisin. I also recorded the story of how to make a pui (a water dipper made of a coconut and a stick of bamboo) in the local language, ApMa. I then took that recording, transcribed it, found someone to help me translate it, took pictures of the process, and then made a literacy booklet that will be used in the schools there.
We had a great time talking with women and children (it wouldnt be appropriate for me to talk with men). I'd love to come back for a visit in the future.
I lived in a bush house with a bucket shower and bucket toilet. For the first 4 days, a 6*2 1" thick mat covered in a mosquito net was my sanctuary. After that we moved down to the main part of Samban (we were originally in Nupela Painiten), where missionaries from Outreach International were located. They lived in an Americanized house. (During the first year or so, missionaries stay in bush houses until they've found just the right plae amidst just the right dialect to set up a more costly establishment.)
While in Samban, I learn how to scrap saksak (a starch akin to flour), wash saksak, cook saksak, make a belum (a purse of sorts), and I got along on my Tok Pisin. I also recorded the story of how to make a pui (a water dipper made of a coconut and a stick of bamboo) in the local language, ApMa. I then took that recording, transcribed it, found someone to help me translate it, took pictures of the process, and then made a literacy booklet that will be used in the schools there.
We had a great time talking with women and children (it wouldnt be appropriate for me to talk with men). I'd love to come back for a visit in the future.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Last day in Madang (for now)
Yesterday I was in the Buy/Ship room all day packing up all the cargo for the Samban and Igoi trips. ALL DAY. My other job was to find the flight times. But the person who was supposed to tell me couldn't because the Caravan, carrying 1000k, was sick and in the shop and until it was decided whether it would be fixed or not, she wouldn't know.
This morning, it was said we would get the Twin Otter which carries 1,500k. But at 8:15, it was decided we would get three little planes, and the first would leave at 9:15. When we got there at 9:30, it was said we aren't taking the little planes but we would wait until the twin otter now.
We were spposed to find out what was going on at 10:30. At 12:30, we just got the phone call. The otter is ours. We leave at 2. Yay.
We're going to the bush and I'll have no internet for 2 weeks. woo.
This morning, it was said we would get the Twin Otter which carries 1,500k. But at 8:15, it was decided we would get three little planes, and the first would leave at 9:15. When we got there at 9:30, it was said we aren't taking the little planes but we would wait until the twin otter now.
We were spposed to find out what was going on at 10:30. At 12:30, we just got the phone call. The otter is ours. We leave at 2. Yay.
We're going to the bush and I'll have no internet for 2 weeks. woo.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Jais: Paradise is Danger
8 out of 9 interns injured.
I am not the 1.
After lunch on Saturday we went to the Jais Resort. The sign read "This way to Paradise." It was stunning. It's one thing to know God made beautiful things. It's quite another to watch it steal your breath. It was almost unreal. As if the palm trees seperating the plush white clouds laced in golden sunshine from the rich bluest of blue ocean was just a painting, as if such beauty was too marvelous to actually been seen in person.
But after two minutes in the waters (a perfect tempeture, not so cold one has to ease in, but a great relief from the sun), two interns emerged with blue dots on their feet. Sea Urchins. Lindy called us out to put shoes on. It was then that the odd burning sensation on my foot was explained. I, too, had the tell-tale blue dot of the sea urchin.
But with shoes encasing our feet, we were good to go again.
I prepared to snorkel with the others. At first I had swimming goggles on (ones that didn't cover my nose) and in addition to my nose being filled with burning salt, I got a little panicky and would inhale sharply thru my mouth and, despite that that was a successul manner of breathing, I couldn't steady my breathing. Finally, another intern threw in the towel and threw me her snorkel goggles. With my nose encased in air, I could breathe out of my mouth without fear.
The water was pretty choppy and so the sand was stirred up making the water less than crystal clear. But the coral was still lovely. It was pretty high to the surface, so sometimes I would take a moment to breath and try to stand on it. Of course the waters were moving and I'd find myself pushed from my perch.
Swimming farth out, to the edge of where I could see the coral. I danced with a jelly fish.
After that I decided to go in.
I meet my battle buddy going in. She was lifting her foot out of the water and another intern was bent over it. The pins of an urchin were being pluced from her flesh. The intern (a nursing student) looked up from her work at my arrival and asked me to hold my battle's leg out of the water to keep the waves from jostling her work. When I walked up to the more shallow waters, the nurse caught a glance of my legs. "What did that!" she exclaimed. I looked down to my skinned knee bleeding profusly. I shrugged. "Coral, probably. No big deal."
"Have you ever been scrapped by coral before?"
"No."
"It has a tendency to try to grow inside of you."
Lovely.
I try to keep a light hearted attitude as I picture the coral I had just seen underwater growing on my knee.
I crawled out of the water to Lindy.
"Lindy, coral is pretty. But coral is danger."
Lindy sighs. "That makes 8 of 9," she says.
Inventory of wounds:
One blue dot on top of foot, next to blister from shoes.
four coral scrapes on legs (two on each)
one coral scrape on ankle
Angry jellyfish welts on forearms.
angry jellyfish redness all over arms.
I am not the 1.
After lunch on Saturday we went to the Jais Resort. The sign read "This way to Paradise." It was stunning. It's one thing to know God made beautiful things. It's quite another to watch it steal your breath. It was almost unreal. As if the palm trees seperating the plush white clouds laced in golden sunshine from the rich bluest of blue ocean was just a painting, as if such beauty was too marvelous to actually been seen in person.
But after two minutes in the waters (a perfect tempeture, not so cold one has to ease in, but a great relief from the sun), two interns emerged with blue dots on their feet. Sea Urchins. Lindy called us out to put shoes on. It was then that the odd burning sensation on my foot was explained. I, too, had the tell-tale blue dot of the sea urchin.
But with shoes encasing our feet, we were good to go again.
I prepared to snorkel with the others. At first I had swimming goggles on (ones that didn't cover my nose) and in addition to my nose being filled with burning salt, I got a little panicky and would inhale sharply thru my mouth and, despite that that was a successul manner of breathing, I couldn't steady my breathing. Finally, another intern threw in the towel and threw me her snorkel goggles. With my nose encased in air, I could breathe out of my mouth without fear.
The water was pretty choppy and so the sand was stirred up making the water less than crystal clear. But the coral was still lovely. It was pretty high to the surface, so sometimes I would take a moment to breath and try to stand on it. Of course the waters were moving and I'd find myself pushed from my perch.
Swimming farth out, to the edge of where I could see the coral. I danced with a jelly fish.
After that I decided to go in.
I meet my battle buddy going in. She was lifting her foot out of the water and another intern was bent over it. The pins of an urchin were being pluced from her flesh. The intern (a nursing student) looked up from her work at my arrival and asked me to hold my battle's leg out of the water to keep the waves from jostling her work. When I walked up to the more shallow waters, the nurse caught a glance of my legs. "What did that!" she exclaimed. I looked down to my skinned knee bleeding profusly. I shrugged. "Coral, probably. No big deal."
"Have you ever been scrapped by coral before?"
"No."
"It has a tendency to try to grow inside of you."
Lovely.
I try to keep a light hearted attitude as I picture the coral I had just seen underwater growing on my knee.
I crawled out of the water to Lindy.
"Lindy, coral is pretty. But coral is danger."
Lindy sighs. "That makes 8 of 9," she says.
Inventory of wounds:
One blue dot on top of foot, next to blister from shoes.
four coral scrapes on legs (two on each)
one coral scrape on ankle
Angry jellyfish welts on forearms.
angry jellyfish redness all over arms.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)