I've moved out of MACU. All of my things that were in my dorm room are now sitting on my more permenant bedroom floor. I do not like being in a flithy room. But I am also less than fond of cleaning. ESPECIALLY since I JUST cleaned and packed my dorm room. Another event of such thorough cleaning is less than appealing. But a large pile just vanished as it was introduced to my washing machine and now I sit, knowing that progress is being made. Slowly.
I have a two week break. Something that those returning to MACU tease me about as they have four weeks of break. But really, I tease them. Who would want to have nothing to do for four-weeks? It's not like this is designated "hang out with friends" time. All my friends are home for the break. I love to shoot the breeze sipping a macchiato and reading a novel just as much as the next bloke. But I like it as a means to unwind after stress. After four weeks of unwinding... I think I'd become unwound.
During my break, I will:
- unpack and repack my life
- get an oil change and 21 point inspection prior to a 24-hr drive to TX
- get in contact with a couple names that might be able to help me with support
- shoot the breeze sipping a macchiato and reading my new textbook
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Monday, September 6, 2010
Summer Story - Intriguing Intruder
I was staring at the ceiling. Both of my roommates had long since fallen asleep but my mind was still filtering through all the thoughts that the day had prompted. A small sound disturbed me from my thoughts, a scratching sound. "Rats!" I thought. Now I'm not afraid of rats, I am aware that they cannot hurt me, so, with the sound now identified, I returned to the swirl of thoughts in my head. But in the midst of this chaos, a small voice came to me, screaming, "the coffee!" I snapped out of my thoughts and returned to the immediate major problem of the 8 bags of coffee on the ground, the same ground that the rat was on. Do rates eat coffee? I don't know. I think rats eat everything. I knew I had to act. So I grabbed my flashlight and pressed it against my mosquito net, shining it toward the coffee, looking for the red pin-pricks of the rat's eyes. But I saw none. The scratching had stopped. The rats must have gotten savvy and hid from the light. So I hid the light until the scratches were heard again. After the scratches became steady, I snapped the light up and watched as a huge tail, an inch in diameter, slithered down the backpack and hid behind the coffee. "This is no rat." Just then I heard scratches from the corner of the room. The beam of light jumped over to illuminate a large snake. This is good news actually. In PNG, snakes are either big or deadly. So big is good. "But snakes don’t make scratching noises!" The snake that my beam was focused on began to crawl toward it's friend. It's legs moving rapidly. Now you may be thinking, as I once naively did, that snake + legs = lizard. But this is not the case. Lizards have bodies and then tails. Snakes have much less obvious transition between these body parts, and I assure you, it was not a lizard. It was a snake with legs.
Suddenly, the first snake began moving again, the beam snapped back to observe it's progress. It's tail must have gotten snagged on the empty bottle of Coke on the floor, because as it retreated to the shadows under my roommates bed, I watched the bottle of coke being slowly dragged under the bed until it disappeared in the dark. The giggly sort of fear bubbled in my throat (which I stifled for the sake of my slumbering friends) and I thought about how cheesy that scene would be in a movie.
The second snake progressed around the perimeter of the room and I was thrilled as he approached my bed, because then I would get a really good view of him (in the safety of my mosquito net). So I watched him approach, walking with the front of his body and slithering with the back. I watched him crawl under my bed and then jumped to the other side of my bed to watch him crawl out. But he didn't.
After several minutes, I came to terms with the fact that he was staying under my bed. I returned my attention to the ceiling and at that moment, wished more than ever that I had my cell phone. So badly, I wanted to text my team leader and ask her if snakes with legs could hurt me.
I practiced how I would tell this story in Tok Pisin until I fell asleep.
Epilogue
The next morning, the roommate who's bed the snake hid under was packing to go spend the weekend in Madang. She gasped. Another woman asked what the problem was.
"I think it's a really big gecko."
"Oh don't be a baby!"
A few minutes went by and my roommate spoke again.
"I really don't know what to do with this!"
"What are you talking- Oh dear."
The massive snake had coiled itself in her suitcase. Nationals were asked to come and exterminate the intruder. They informed them that this was not a common critter.
I should be so lucky.
No coffee was harmed in the making of this experience.
Suddenly, the first snake began moving again, the beam snapped back to observe it's progress. It's tail must have gotten snagged on the empty bottle of Coke on the floor, because as it retreated to the shadows under my roommates bed, I watched the bottle of coke being slowly dragged under the bed until it disappeared in the dark. The giggly sort of fear bubbled in my throat (which I stifled for the sake of my slumbering friends) and I thought about how cheesy that scene would be in a movie.
The second snake progressed around the perimeter of the room and I was thrilled as he approached my bed, because then I would get a really good view of him (in the safety of my mosquito net). So I watched him approach, walking with the front of his body and slithering with the back. I watched him crawl under my bed and then jumped to the other side of my bed to watch him crawl out. But he didn't.
After several minutes, I came to terms with the fact that he was staying under my bed. I returned my attention to the ceiling and at that moment, wished more than ever that I had my cell phone. So badly, I wanted to text my team leader and ask her if snakes with legs could hurt me.
I practiced how I would tell this story in Tok Pisin until I fell asleep.
Epilogue
The next morning, the roommate who's bed the snake hid under was packing to go spend the weekend in Madang. She gasped. Another woman asked what the problem was.
"I think it's a really big gecko."
"Oh don't be a baby!"
A few minutes went by and my roommate spoke again.
"I really don't know what to do with this!"
"What are you talking- Oh dear."
The massive snake had coiled itself in her suitcase. Nationals were asked to come and exterminate the intruder. They informed them that this was not a common critter.
I should be so lucky.
No coffee was harmed in the making of this experience.
Summer Story - Intriguing Intruder
I was staring at the ceiling. Both of my roommates had long since fallen asleep but my mind was still filtering through all the thoughts that the day had prompted. A small sound disturbed me from my thoughts, a scratching sound. "Rats!" I thought. Now I'm not afraid of rats, I am aware that they cannot hurt me, so, with the sound now identified, I returned to the swirl of thoughts in my head. But in the midst of this chaos, a small voice came to me, screaming, "the coffee!" I snapped out of my thoughts and returned to the immediate major problem of the 8 bags of coffee on the ground, the same ground that the rat was on. Do rates eat coffee? I don't know. I think rats eat everything. I knew I had to act. So I grabbed my flashlight and pressed it against my mosquito net, shining it toward the coffee, looking for the red pin-pricks of the rat's eyes. But I saw none. The scratching had stopped. The rats must have gotten savvy and hid from the light. So I hid the light until the scratches were heard again. After the scratches became steady, I snapped the light up and watched as a huge tail, an inch in diameter, slithered down the backpack and hid behind the coffee. "This is no rat." Just then I heard scratches from the corner of the room. The beam of light jumped over to illuminate a large snake. This is good news actually. In PNG, snakes are either big or deadly. So big is good. "But snakes don’t make scratching noises!" The snake that my beam was focused on began to crawl toward it's friend. It's legs moving rapidly. Now you may be thinking, as I once naively did, that snake + legs = lizard. But this is not the case. Lizards have bodies and then tails. Snakes have much less obvious transition between these body parts, and I assure you, it was not a lizard. It was a snake with legs.
Suddenly, the first snake began moving again, the beam snapped back to observe it's progress. It's tail must have gotten snagged on the empty bottle of Coke on the floor, because as it retreated to the shadows under my roommates bed, I watched the bottle of coke being slowly dragged under the bed until it disappeared in the dark. The giggly sort of fear bubbled in my throat (which I stifled for the sake of my slumbering friends) and I thought about how cheesy that scene would be in a movie.
The second snake progressed around the perimeter of the room and I was thrilled as he approached my bed, because then I would get a really good view of him (in the safety of my mosquito net). So I watched him approach, walking with the front of his body and slithering with the back. I watched him crawl under my bed and then jumped to the other side of my bed to watch him crawl out. But he didn't.
After several minutes, I came to terms with the fact that he was staying under my bed. I returned my attention to the ceiling and at that moment, wished more than ever that I had my cell phone. So badly, I wanted to text my team leader and ask her if snakes with legs could hurt me.
I practiced how I would tell this story in Tok Pisin until I fell asleep.
Epilogue
The next morning, the roommate who's bed the snake hid under was packing to go spend the weekend in Madang. She gasped. Another woman asked what the problem was.
"I think it's a really big gecko."
"Oh don't be a baby!"
A few minutes went by and my roommate spoke again.
"I really don't know what to do with this!"
"What are you talking- Oh dear."
The massive snake had coiled itself in her suitcase. Nationals were asked to come and exterminate the intruder. They informed them that this was not a common critter.
I should be so lucky.
No coffee was harmed in the making of this experience.
Suddenly, the first snake began moving again, the beam snapped back to observe it's progress. It's tail must have gotten snagged on the empty bottle of Coke on the floor, because as it retreated to the shadows under my roommates bed, I watched the bottle of coke being slowly dragged under the bed until it disappeared in the dark. The giggly sort of fear bubbled in my throat (which I stifled for the sake of my slumbering friends) and I thought about how cheesy that scene would be in a movie.
The second snake progressed around the perimeter of the room and I was thrilled as he approached my bed, because then I would get a really good view of him (in the safety of my mosquito net). So I watched him approach, walking with the front of his body and slithering with the back. I watched him crawl under my bed and then jumped to the other side of my bed to watch him crawl out. But he didn't.
After several minutes, I came to terms with the fact that he was staying under my bed. I returned my attention to the ceiling and at that moment, wished more than ever that I had my cell phone. So badly, I wanted to text my team leader and ask her if snakes with legs could hurt me.
I practiced how I would tell this story in Tok Pisin until I fell asleep.
Epilogue
The next morning, the roommate who's bed the snake hid under was packing to go spend the weekend in Madang. She gasped. Another woman asked what the problem was.
"I think it's a really big gecko."
"Oh don't be a baby!"
A few minutes went by and my roommate spoke again.
"I really don't know what to do with this!"
"What are you talking- Oh dear."
The massive snake had coiled itself in her suitcase. Nationals were asked to come and exterminate the intruder. They informed them that this was not a common critter.
I should be so lucky.
No coffee was harmed in the making of this experience.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Buckling Down
After I got back from Papua New Guinea, I promptly wrote my thank you note, enveloped them and put as many in the mail as I had stamps. A large stack is unsent. But I never made it to the post office.
I made a couple phone calls on my long list but there was so much going on when I got back! Appointments, enrolling in school, starting school, grasping the fact that I was no longer in PNG, etc. That I decided to take a breath and focus on the things which could not be done late (registering for classes) until I was reinculturated enough to get back to work.
Yesterday, I says to myself, I says "Elizabeth, it's been almost a month since you got back, I'm pretty sure you can get back to working now."
So today, I'm going to make crazy headway! Today I have nothing to do except PD! Today I'm buckling down!
I made a couple phone calls on my long list but there was so much going on when I got back! Appointments, enrolling in school, starting school, grasping the fact that I was no longer in PNG, etc. That I decided to take a breath and focus on the things which could not be done late (registering for classes) until I was reinculturated enough to get back to work.
Yesterday, I says to myself, I says "Elizabeth, it's been almost a month since you got back, I'm pretty sure you can get back to working now."
So today, I'm going to make crazy headway! Today I have nothing to do except PD! Today I'm buckling down!
Monday, August 16, 2010
Ode to Mine
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.
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.
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.
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