It’s Moving Week and in the midst of the sorting and
packing, I find myself getting a big sniffly about leaving the base.
Sometimes, people with our organization joke that MAF really
stands for “Move Again, Friend.” Our first 10 years overseas, we were blessed to
live in the same house. Now, after two
years in our current house on the MAF base, it’s time to move off-base.
When we first moved
to Papua from Kalimantan, I had reservations about what Base Life would be
like. A former teammate from Kal who
visited Papua likened staying on the base to being at summer camp. That made it sound fun, but somehow in my
mind I pictured it more like the “Others” compound in the show Lost, perhaps because David and I were
blitzing through that series to de-stress as we were wrestling with major life
decisions.
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| The "Others" Compound |
I worried that the base would be too cloistered, that it
would be difficult to get to know Papuans, that it would be like living
in a bubble. Would it seem exclusive? Snobbish?
Would the lack of privacy get to me?
I can unequivocally say that my fears were unfounded and I
have loved living on base. Maybe you saw our video about how much we love it:
I happily trade privacy for a sense of community. I love the family feel of living on
base. I love how easy it is to connect
with my neighbors by simply stepping outside and joining a conversation. I love that the kids can just run out the
door and have a safe place to play, and friends to play with.
It hasn’t been without its frustrations. Base cats and dogs have done their business
in our yard. To be fair, we’ve had two
snakes escape, but I don’t think they pooped in anyone’s yard.
We’re right next door to the airport and MAF office and
hanger, which makes for an awesome commute time for David. However, in the evenings when there are
airplane engines running until they sound like they’re going to fly right into
the house, airport proximity ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.
But the perk of being able to run an errand and leave my
kids at home, knowing that half a dozen moms will happily help if there’s an emergency,
is priceless. And the generator that kicks on when the city power frequently goes out? My favorite machine in the world.
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| Sunday Night Base Party |
Our new home, located on a hill known as Pos 7, has a
beautiful view of the mountains. It will
be much easier to get to know Papuans.
We’ll be far from the airport noise.
Our house will be big enough that each kid can have his or her own
bedroom, a first for us. (Somehow, in Tarakan, we convinced them all to sleep
in the same room, and they loved it.
Now, not so much.)
And we’ll be a five minute drive from base. Just five minutes. As an Indonesian lady told me yesterday, Pos
7 is “jauh sekali” from base. Very far
away, she said. And I agree with
her. Five minutes may not seem like far
away, but really, the moment you leave base, you are “jauh sekali.” It has been a haven for us, and I’d be lying
if I said I didn’t have some fears about leaving the bubble of base life and moving
to Pos 7, an area known to have problems with drunks.
But many lovely people – Papuan, Indonesian, and expat –
live there, and I am going to do my best to plug in and enjoy our new home and
neighborhood.
Farewell, Base Life, and our fellow base mates. We’ll miss you!
