Settling in

Life in Papua New Guinea is so very different from back in Europe.  We’ve been acclimatising for a week. We’ve been finding that it feels both familiar and different at the same time.

The climate is the most immediate thing you notice! Our girls were already saying at the airport “I’m sweaty!” This continued for the next few days. By force of habit Alice and Millie continued to wear trousers under their dresses, just like they do back “home”. A week later and one of the girls continues to insist on wearing trousers, while the other sees the benefit of fewer layers.

The thing we notice upon returning this time, with our children all being bigger, is that every member of our family has their own unique response to the changes. I have been feeling bored. After the rush and bustle of packing up to be here it’s odd to arrive and (not yet) have work and activity to fill the void. Oscar changed into his sports t-shirt and shorts in Hong Kong and felt like himself again. He spends his afternoons running in a pack of children around the center, bare-foot, sweat-bands pumping and running and running until the jet-lag finally laid him low. The spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak.

A few days passed as we acclimatised before sickness hit. I missed out, but everyone else spent 4 days with fever, low energy, loss of appetite and sleeping most of the day. It was a miserable experience for everyone and felt like settling in had been put on hold. At least we had been prepared for something like this. Part of the reason for booking 3 weeks at Sobega – 3 weeks is a very long time (in Europe) – is that we expected delays and difficulties. Day 5 of the sickness has dawned, and while all the girls (Gerdine included) are coughing away constantly still, energy levels seem to be back. That means that Gerdine is back to school with the children. As I write I hear her talking to them about graphemes.

Having missed out on being sick I’ve been able to spend some time with our co-workers in the Kovol work Philip and Natalie. I’ve been listening to stories of their time in Kovol the last 7 months and we’ve started chatting and thinking about the upcoming literacy program.
We’ve been thinking, based on the date we return to Kovol, the work left to polish the program, the review process with consultants and the time required for printing materials, that we might be able to start the first class in April.

Our minds then turn to materials and we’ll be off into town to buy pencils, sharpeners, exercise books and erasers, but also plywood so we can make writing slates and a blackboard. We need to figure out what the classroom is going to look like. A new building will need to be built in Kovol. As we think about it we’re trying to balance speed/efficiency with reproducibility.
On the efficiency end of the scale we could build it for them. We know what a classroom will need and we could even fly in a team of skilled builders and have it done in a few days, with brand new, weather resistant materials. The downside of that would be setting the precedent that if you want to start a literacy class you need western materials and financing.
On the reproducible end of the spectrum we could simply ask the Kovol people to build one of their meeting houses. The advantage would be that the precedent is set that you don’t need special materials or skills, if you want a literacy program and you have the teachers the building isn’t a problem. The downside could be that the building isn’t ideal for the class. The materials might get wet from the rain, and students may be trying to learn to write on an uneven surface.

Naturally, we’re looking to find the sweet spot in the middle. That seems to be providing the blackboard, chalk and desks in some way, but leaving the rest to the Kovol people. Even then though, would we provide nails? Kovol houses are usually built with nails if they are available, but if not they make do. Would making do for the literacy house not properly reflect its status though? Are nails considered by our Kovol friends an essential that, of course, must be provided?
It’s a challenge to untangle what is luxury, and what is essential. We don’t want to do too much and diminish reproducibility, but too little could be seen as insulting and unfitting for us, when after all we have money to use for this ministry.

I’m sure we could debate and discuss for a long time. It’s easy to discuss away about what the perfect box will be to store the literacy materials. A box that won’t deteriorate, keeps the weather and cockroaches out, while being easy to fly in, doesn’t look too fancy and is also lockable. The nice thing about a deadline though is that forces the issue. Next week is the time to go to town and buy the supplies. I’ll get what I get and we’ll make do! A real literacy program is after all, better than a hypothetical ideal one!

As I write and the detail pours out I realise that I’ve now really landed. My mind is once again filled with the work in Kovol and I have a to-do list for the next days.

For those waiting for an update on the suitcase we still don’t have it. Air Niugini are saying “tomorrow’s flight.” We’ll see, but for now 10 days after arriving, we are still waiting for the missing luggage  🙂