What happens when it rains...

 The kids love it when it rains during the day.. they drop everything and run outside to play!

minor flooding after lots of rain over a few days (when the road washed away)

playing in a drain at front of the compound

Newsletter 3

Two photos to go with the following newsletter (its not working for me to add any more or move them into the story! That's one big thing to get used too.. unreliable internet connection, when we are used to having a fast and good internet connection back in Australia!)

First glimpse of Main Market (its a very colourful place!)

Isaac with his favourite - salted peanuts

As you roll down the highway, the sound of the trusty 3 litre diesel filling the cabin of your dual cab 4x4, you take in the scenery. Lush greens line the side of the road, breaking to reveal buildings battered by rain and sun 365 days per year, the once bright colours having quickly faded in the harsh environment. You glance down at the speedometer, seeing the needle hovering just below 80km/h; the sweet spot of maximum speed and least vibrations, the ever present wobble of the steering wheel a reminder of the brutality which all vehicles face on the stretches of road as yet untouched by The Chinese Railway. Earlier in the trip, you passed potholes deep enough to lose a front wheel in, and the traffic had often crossed into the other lane, or veered off the pavement, finding the verge to be a smoother ride than the pothole-ridden blacktop.

Ahead of you, a white coaster bus with green trim belches thick black smoke across the road, and begins to pull away from the bus stop. The bus’ driver pays little heed to the traffic behind him, and you see a Landcruiser ute veer into the inside lane to avoid running into the backend of the coaster. The coaster bus surges forward, its driver wringing every little bit of power from the engine. Both the road, and the driver abuse this particular vehicle, filling it beyond capacity with passengers and getting from point to point in as short a time as possible, to maximise the earnings for the day. The Public Motor Vehicle crabwalks up the highway, so twisted on its chassis that it seems to have a front corner on the curb, and the opposite back corner touching the median strip, and a passenger’s face appears in an open window, spitting a slick of red from pursed lips, and adding to the collection of stains already on the newly finished highway. He sees your approach, and waves, smiling a smile which reveals a few stained teeth, and a lot of missing teeth, rotted away by the incessant consumption of buai.

The place from where the PMV left is a sea of umbrellas and tent tops; a patch of mud and clay carved into the side of the road and transformed into a market. Already, the new day’s heat is beginning to dry out the puddles formed by the night’s rain.

The brief glimpse of the market quickly gives way to hillside again; the view on your left filled with grass and trees rising from the sidewalk, while the view on your right falls away from the road and ends with a distant mountain reaching up into the clouds. Vendors along the roadside have stalls set up, peddling everything from boiled eggs, to woven mats, to Coca-Cola in front of their homes.

The diesel powerhouse continues its reliable beat, the steering wheel continues its wobble, and your 4x4 consumes the road as you reach the outskirts of town. Traffic ahead slows, as a dual lane highway meets roadwoaks, and two columns, opposed in direction, fight for the smoothest surface. Having arrived at this point after the early morning rush sees you delayed only a little, but you know that you cannot stay in town too late, or you will be slowed to a crawl for a full kilometre on the town side of the roadworks. On the town side of the roadworks, tarmac is swapped for concrete sections, and a rythmic thump is added to the beat of the 3 litre, and the wobbling wheel. You navigate a few roundabouts, for which the rules are dubious. You keep your eyes peeled, as it would not be the first, or even the the last, time that you were cut off by a vehicle turning right, while in the outside lane. You battle a host of PMVs, all fighting for a spot on the line to refill with passengers, and begin to search for a place to pull up onto the kerb. The outer lane is a mix of cars trying to park, trying to leave parking, and trying to merge with the traffic slowly moving past. A spot found, you park, opening the door to find a puddle at your feet. You sling a woven bag over your shoulder, and clench your hand around your cash – small notes and coins, as you know that most vendors wont have change to break even a 20 Kina note. With mud at your feet, dodging puddles and men pushing wheelbarrows full of produce, you aim yourself towards the large metal structure – a shed with no walls – and soon find yourself in a press of people, weaving and dodging like the traffic you experienced earlier on the highway. Vendors call out to get your attention, each competing with his neighbour for a sale. As you walk through the stalls, fresh fruit and even vegetables are pressed into your hands, vendors refusing to take payment for their gift to you. The bag on your shoulder grows heavy with produce, the thin handles cutting into the flesh on your shoulder, and you are not quite certain how much you paid for, and how much was gifted to you. More than one vendor expressed thankfulness for the amount you purchased, by throwing in extra items. The sun beats down outside, and the mercury rises towards the high thirties. You make your way back to the car, wondering if you should stop and buy a coconut to drink, or a pineapple to eat. The bag cuts deep into your shoulder, and you decide against it.

Reaching the car, you find that the mid-morning sun has erased all traces of cool which might have been left from the air conditioning. The oppressive heat sends rivulets of sweat down your back, as you wait for the air con to become effective in its cooling again. You put the 4x4 into reverse, and look for an opening in the outer lane, knowing that your shopping trip is only halfway done.

Notes:

Buai, also known as Betelnut, is chewed by some of the nationals, much like an American might chew tobacco. As I understand it, buai causes teeth to rot, but also numbs the mouth, which can be a vicious cycle. Also like tobacco, those who chew it spit constantly, but unlike tobacco’s black stain, they leave a bright red slick.

Cheree and myself don’t receive anywhere near as much free produce as our children do (although it does happen). I omitted children (and husbands/wives) from this little tale to increase the number of people who could relate, and possibly share in our experience vicariously.

The Main Market is our first stop on shopping day, followed by a a few Supermarkets which are closer to what you would find in Australia/Canada/America.

The depth of the potholes may or may not have been exaggerated for the sake of imagination.

Other points:

The climate here lends itself to a slow paced life. If, as I did, you foolishly try to keep up with the locals, you may, as I did, find yourself wiped out on the floor for a day, too exhausted to function. How the locals manage to keep on keeping on, is a bit of a mystery to me.

Language is still a massive barrier. While some barriers can be broken by simple actions, the struggle to verbally communicate is often highlighted. Moreso for Cheree, who does not get even half the exposure I do. This is amplified even further for the children, who struggle to sit still for an hour of Church in our own tongue, let alone 2+ hours in a language they do not grasp yet.

The cultural norm of physical touch (grown men will hold hands with other men while they walk down the road), is a little confronting to those of us who are accustomed to keeping our own space, but also comforting as it shows our/my being accepted.

The workload truly does make it difficult to “keep my house in order”. Pray I find some semblance of balance. As one preacher puts it, “What does it matter if a man wins the whole world and loses his own family?”

Sometimes, much the same as in life in Australia, we can find ourselves in situations which prove difficult to navigate – or even to know which direction to begin to steer towards! Pray for wisdom, and for eyes to be lifted up to our Helper, rather than on the hurdles in our path.

The novelty factor is wearing out for our children, and this presents new challenges as they continue trying to find their niche.

Give thanks for the return of Julian and Shannel – from an “outside” perspective, the Reformed Ministries staff were getting a little snowed under, and the extra hands are precisely what are needed. Give thanks especially for Shannel’s health.

Our GM, just back from holiday, has been informed that it would be a miracle for his father to still be on this side of eternity, when Christmas comes around. While expected (I understand they said goodbye during their time away), Bob and Ann could do with some extra support in prayer.

In general terms, Nikolas and Isaac have blitzed their school work, and are looking like they will run out of lessons before our shipping container arrives with the new books. While Cheree is worried about having to play catch-up, we are very thankful for God’s blessing over their schooling. Personally, I am also very thankful for my wife’s ability to teach and guide them through. To see (and hear!!!!) Isaac reading books, is testament to her ability.

As I seek to get the most out of the hours in a day, Cheree faces the same struggle. For this reason, we are considering employing a “haus meri” a couple days of the week, which would alleviate some of the pressure on Cheree, as well as giving her, and the children, greater exposure to the language. One thing we are wrestling with on this, is the divide between the nationals and the whiteskins, with parallels to South Africa, which keep us from having complete peace with the idea.

Every afternoon, the Reformed Ministries compound is filled with the sounds of children running around playing a million different games. We are thankful for how our children have slotted right in, and are included in as much as they would like.

Madison has found two friends around her age here (both of them are also blond, which can be confusing when we look down on the tops of their heads and try to figure out which is which), is talking more, is playing games more, and is generally healthy and happy.

Calvin is beginning to show an interest in learning to write, and is also forming sounds (in speech) which he previously couldn’t. He has found a friend in Ben, and both of them seem determined to blaze their own trail.

Word is getting around, among the City Mission staff, and the young men, about the WiFi hotspot (BiblePress) I took with me. It is exciting to see it being used, and there are plans to collaborate with Reformed Ministries on content (finding any content in Tok Pisin is difficult, let alone finding Christian content), as well as the possible production of more units.

Above all, pray that no matter the challenge, we have the integrity to do what is right, and the comfort of remembering that Father is in control.

In Christ,

Dave, Cheree, Nikolas, Isaac, Calvin, and Madison.

Newsletter 2

Where to begin? In one sense, it seems like we do not have a lot to tell right now – things which happened only a few weeks ago, seem like ancient history, as there is always something, some drama, some challenge, unfolding in front of us. So, let’s start at the beginning, or at least where we left off last time.

The population of our little compound (with Reformed Ministries) is in a constant state of flux. The Mulder and Eikelboom families (apologies if I have misspelled either name) left around the time of my writing the last update, and since then Ray and Cheryl(?) Gibbello were joined by their son, daughter-in-law and grandchildren, and have gone off for three months (they are church planters). We have also had another couple, John and Annette Smid, from Canada (who are involved with one of the boards overseeing the Bible College), as well as Andrew from Crossroads (prison fellowship) come and go. Sarah Heys has also returned from a holiday, somewhere in that time. It is interesting to meet all of these people from different places around the world, all with a passion for sharing the Gospel. Doubly interesting, when one of them starts talking about my hometown, and the people from our Church who he has met through Crossroads.

Now, while Andrew may have caught my attention in conversation, our weekend with John and Anna was probably one we will remember for much longer. Towards the end of the week, we noticed that water was washing away the riverbank on one side of the road. On Saturday, the road was replaced by a gaping hole which cut us off from town. As this was on the edge of City Mission property, our front fence was lined with people, vehicles, and angst, everyone pondered their immediate problem of getting into town. We were among the fortunate, who had people in town who could come and pick us up, just as soon as we had figured out how to cross the river. Others milled about, and as the day grew longer, frustrations led to shots being fired by the police force in attempt to subdue some of the more unruly in the crowd. Needless to say, trying to fall asleep while hearing gunshots ring out on the other side of the fence – within meters of where staff and their children sleep – is a pretty pointless exercise. Turns out that shots in the air are not something people worry about too much in these parts, and my concerns were met with grins from the staff I spoke to. It seems that John and Annette managed to get the whole “Lae Experience” in a few short days.

Madison fast asleep in a bilum

The Haus Clare orphanage taking shape

Fast forward a few long weeks, and the temporary bridge is still standing, although more of the river bank has washed out, taking a family home down with it in the settlement adjacent to us. Fortunately, we have not been impacted beyond a little difficulty in getting to town, and a power outage for some of the staff houses.

Cheree is well and truly back into homeschooling the oldest two, and we reap the rewards of her labours in seeing Isaac find his love for reading (almost) at the expense of meals. While Sarah is still here, they are able to join in with her art class too, which they seem to be enjoying.

All of our children have found good friends and playmates here, and have abandoned the idea of shoes as being old-fashioned and backwards. How they run across the hot, sharp stones is a bit of a mystery to me at the moment, with my soft baby-feet crying out at my lunacy whenever I try it.

Meanwhile, projects continue, and eat up the majority of my time. The Children’s Crisis Centre, or Haus Clare, is taking shape quite quickly, although a pause has been been put on the other projects for the short term.  

Adventurous ride to church when the road caved in

The hole in the road (it got a lot bigger and deeper in the days after this photo was taken)

Of course, all of this is not without troubles or burdens. In no particular order, some of them are:

• The Thermomix which a group gave to Cheree seems to be malfunctioning. I know that this probably sounds like more of a minor inconvenience than a “trouble”, but I know that it has been a great help in her being able to achieve as much in a day as she does. For now, it seems to have sorted itself out, but we are not sure at all if it will last for a whole lot longer.
• Language. While I am picking up more and more of the language, albeit slowly, and we are starting to understand more in Church, it remains a challenge. This is magnified for Cheree, who does not have the same exposure as I do. We know that these things will take time, but it is a challenge nonetheless.
• Leadership. At this moment, I stand at the edge of the abyss. It’s time to find out if I sink or swim. There is a gap of approximately a week, between the acting GM leaving, and the actual GM arriving back from furlough. During that time, as far as projects are concerned, I am it, and bear the responsibility of keeping things running as smoothly as they have been under Kirt’s watchful eye.
• Leadership. Again. All work and no play makes Daddy an abstract ideal. A man who is never home, cannot keep his house in order. I think that about sums it up.
  
  At the same time, we have much to be thankful for:
• Technology. Free facebook (which I am personally beginning to loathe) means free messaging loved ones back home. Skype, on special occasions, means seeing their faces.
• Family, who answer our groans of not being able to understand the sermons, by sending us sermons from home.
• Family in Blood. We’ve been welcomed here with open arms; the kids have all gained a few more uncles and aunties, and we’ve both gained more than a few nephews and neices.
• Experienced missionaries. Ian and Nadia’s experience has been a great guide as we tried to find our feet, especially in dealing with things like sores which become infected.
• Like minded individuals. Outside of the Reformed Ministries compound, we hae made fast friends in Ricky and his family.
• Fresh fruit. Bananas coming out of our ears.

LIFE IN PNG - Newsletter1

Due to limited internet, I have not been able to post updates on here as yet, so today I'm posting the 3 news letters we have written so far to get a glimpse into life here.

As I write it has just started raining and I just remembered I have washing on the line. Oh well.  The boys love it when it rains during the day here - often it rains just at night and the days are dry - so when it does rain in day time they love to run about in it, slide in the concrete drains, or make boats to float in the rushing water.  The compound now hosts a total of 9 boys (ages 12, 8, 7, 7, 6, 5, 4, 4, 3) and 6 girls (ages 9, 2, 2,1,1,0) so there is always activity going on, games to play, things to build, whatever it is that boys like to do. Most days a further 3-5 boys from other city mission families come to join in the fun as well.

___
UPDATE 1
Wednesday marked a week since we first touched down in Lae. Already, so much has happened. I’m sure that some of you reading this now, have also caught glimpses into our life via Facebook, so not all of what you read will be new to all of you, but here is a tiny piece of our experience so far. When we landed in Brisbane, we had a chance to meet with Bob and Ann Epperson - the General Manager of Lae City Mission and his wife – as they were heading away from PNG for a six week break. We shared a meal, and Bob gave us a quick run down of what was in store for us. It began to sound like we were standing at the foot of a hill, and we had some climbing ahead of us.

Boys enjoyed their own screens on the plane!

Then sleep, wake, rush, catch another plane, and we were en route for Port Moresby. There, we were met by Ron – the CEO of City Mission PNG – and his assistant Dorothy, who also shared some food and tried to fill us in on what we were flying towards. The fog around the hill began to thin out, and we could see that we were at the foot of a mountain, with no way to go but up. Transfer to domestic, rush to catch a plane which was boarding early, and we were on the last leg of our trip. By this stage, our kids were beyond the point of exhaustion, and I had a moment where the adrenaline stopped, and knew that now I would have time to be tired. Now I would crash. But not yet. Touched down in Lae, and we met two of City Mission’s staff – Ricky and Remmie – who helped us cart our luggage, and drove us to the LCM compound, where we were greeted with a decorated gate, hand-written signs, and a shower of flower petals over the van as we drove up to the house. Exit van, and see a sea of faces, all come to welcome us. Calvin was so excited that he was jumping up and down saying, “We’re here! We’re here!” We were presented with a floral necklace (similar to the lays of Hawaii), and ushered into our house. We had arrived! All the waiting, all the frustration, and now a feeling best described as a mixture of thankfulness, relief, and happiness washed over us.

Just one of the beautiful flowers in our yard

As both Cheree and I have said to others, when you spend so long with your heart in another place, when you do get there, it quickly feels like the place you are meant to be. It kinda feels like home (although we are under no illusion about the pangs of homesickness which will likely come to visit). It hasn’t all been smooth sailing though. Apart from Madison’s teething problems (it seems she decided to cut two teeth at once, and suffers terribly from the pain), we’ve already had one of our childen announce that they don’t like PNG. Not all of the tears which fell that morning were his, as we explained that this is our home for now. A recurring theme in our prayers at the moment, is that we all find our place, find our rythym, here quickly. Fast forward to this week, skipping over the details of our inaugural trip into town, and a day spent at the licensing office and bank, and right now, we are mostly in a pretty good headspace. As sleeping in the heat is not always easy, and everyone is up and about by 630AM (as opposed to 730-8AM), some fatigue is taking its toll on the three boys. They do not help their cause, as they play hard and loud, as much as we let them. But some normalcy has settled in. Cheree has begun school work with Nikolas and Isaac, and tells me it is as if they didn’t even have a break. By lunch, they are done and spend the hottest part of the day playing under the house, or inside. Apart from schooling, Cheree is kept quite busy with all of the housework, and for the first few days of the week, I think she did more physical work than I did. There is no wearing clothes for two days in a row here, even for the little ones, so the laundry is a perpetual cycle,and it is now obvious to me why clothes do not last in this climate.

one of the kids bedrooms

dining/kitchen

living area

other side of living area

Meanwhile, I had three mornings spent in trips to the licensing office (one area where they beat Australia is that they print your license as soon as you have your photo taken, and you walk out with a plastic card to put in your wallet), which also served to help me find my bearings a little better (on Saturday we took a trip to the shops, and it took us twenty minutes to find one which should be reached in 5). No GPS in Lae, just experience and sense of direction. After lunch hour (12-1), I started working with the young men on one of the projects here. Thursday was my first full day on the tools, and we spent it marking out a large building for the second project we are working on (there are three main projects on the go at the moment – a fence around the plantation, a dormitory to house 120 young men, and a whole new compound to house the Children’s Crisis Center (Haus Clare). The dorm is nearly completed, with cladding going on the second storey now, but the Children’s Center is only just beginning. Over the last few days, we have made some great progress, with all of the staff and young men pulling together to get things done. The General Manager and Projects Manager (one man, two caps) from POM (Port Moresby) is also here to help us push things along, and we are hoping to get the majority done before he leaves in four weeks’ time. From here, he goes to Madang where City Mission hope to launch another center. Exciting times ahead, but the mountain looms. How do you climb a mountain? Carefully, and one step at a time. We also got to spend a little time with members of the Mission Board, as they were visiting the Reformed Ministries crew, which was nice – it added a few familiar faces to the growing ocean of unfamiliar ones. We are coming to realise how big a barrier the language really is, and it can be a little frustrating not being able to communicate what I need to. The young fellas are under instruction to teach me a few words and sentences, but even this is slow going (we had tried to learn some of the language before we came, but 1] we did not learn as much as we maybe could have, and 2] what we did learn, we learned slightly wrong, so the words we thought we knew, don’t register in our ears and minds). When I led a group in devotions, I tried some Tok Pisin and asked them if I had it right. They all said yes, but their faces told me no. I’m assured (by the nationals) that I will learn it quickly, and likely go through a stage of speaking Pinglish, but this too is a recurring theme in our prayers.

The start of the Childrens Orphanage (Haus Clare)

And now, after one week in this hot, humid, beautiful place they call Lae, we are exhausted, we are sweating, and we are happy to be right where we are meant to be. Again, we thank you for your support, and we thank God for giving us people willing to support us. Dave, Cheree, Nikolas, Isaac, Calvin, and Madison.