Flyalong

At the start of every school year, the whole high school heads off to the beach for a retreat to get to know one another, be challenged spiritually, and frolic in the sand and waves.  The kids look forward to it, and so do I, since it’s two days off from teaching.

David preflights the plane

For one of those days, I went flying with David.  I’ve been flying with him several times since we’ve been in Papua, but it had been a while since my last flyalong.  It’s always good for me to break out of my two-mile radius world in Sentani and connect with what David does.

The passengers on the first leg of our flight were several ladies who had been in Sentani to do supply-buying for their families.  We had a bit of a delay in Sentani, waiting for permission from the air traffic control tower to take off, but these ladies and their kids took it in stride.  I don’t know many little babies that would tolerate being strapped down in a hot airplane for very long, but these babies did great.  We were soon airborne and the little ones fell asleep.

Satisfied customer

I have such complicated feelings about Papua.  Sometimes it really scares the yahoohoo out of me, but other times the beauty of this place is breathtaking and I could just give this crazy bird-shaped island a kiss on the cheek.  On our flight to our first destination we passed loopy rivers, rugged mountains, and huge waterfalls.  We wove through valleys until David pointed out Bime, a short airstrip carved into the side of a mountain.

I’ve heard there’s a show called “The Scariest Places to Fly” and that Papua has been featured in it.  People, that would be one reality show you can believe.  As David – calm and collected as ever - was circling over the airstrip, a mountain loomed large in front of us.  David must have sensed my anxiety because he calmly said, “Don’t worry, I will turn the plane.”  Of course, of course, I told myself.  He knows what he’s doing.

Can you spot the airstrip?

He did indeed turn the plane, with air to spare, and then deftly landed on the airstrip.  He hopped out of the plane to handle the second most challenging aspect of his job – sorting out the next flight’s passengers and cargo.  There are airstrip agents (often the pastor of the village church) who help with this job, but David still has to count money for tickets and verify the weight of the cargo.

The villagers surround the plane as David preps for the next flight.  Almost everyone wears a nokin, or net bag, even if it's empty and they have nothing to carry.

Some of the cargo: sweet potatoes, sugar cane, and a bow and arrows

While he was doing that, I wandered around the edge of the village.  I tried talking to some of the people, but their Indonesian is limited and my command of the local language is limited to one word of greeting - "telebe."  I made a few babies cry, from the sheer whiteness of my skin.  It’s hard not to feel like a bit of a freak show when going interior.

It was a short hop to our next destination, where some passengers got off and I found a bathroom.  Then it was on to the final village, which was down in the lowlands and had a decidedly different feel.  When David shut off the engine, he turned to me and said, “Stick close to me here.” I peered out of the window and quickly saw why.  Some very rough looking characters emerged from the jungle to check out the plane.  They were all friendly enough, but when one sidled up next to me to get a photo, David said no. 

On our way home, David got clearance to do a low pass over the beach where the kids were.  I’ve been to these beaches many times, but never seen them from the air.  Oh, the blueness of the water!  The kids were on the beach and appeared to be having fun.  This mama was relieved to see that.

"Middle" beach is one of our favorite spots in Papua

The high schoolers at "Outside" beach

When we landed in Sentani David practiced a short-field landing.  We were in the Kodiak and it must be what a dragonfly feels when it zooms in, hovers for an instant and then lands, because that is what we did.  Okay, we didn’t hover, but he brought that plane to a complete stop in less than 300 feet. 

Home sweet home in Sentani

Like I said, I’ve flown with David numerous times, and every time, I am amazed at what a darned good pilot he is.  On the days he goes and flies, so often I just sort of dismiss it, and don’t really think about what it is he’s doing.  Then I fly with him, and the coolness of it, the scariness of it, the “oh yeah, this is why we’re here” of it hits me again.  This is what he does.  And he rocks it.

Okbab

This past weekend our family went to Okbab (pronounced Oak-bop), a district in the area known as the Eastern Highlands.  When we lived in Kalimantan we went interior several times a year, but for a number of reasons, we just haven't made it interior much since moving to Papua.  So I was thrilled when David set it all up for our family and another family, the Bergs, to head to the mountains for a few days.

The flight was about an hour from our home in Sentani.  The airstrip at Okbab is at 6,000 feet elevation, so the cool weather felt wonderful to us.  We stayed in a house that was built by missionaries who came in the 1970s, bringing the gospel and literacy to the area.  The house hasn't been lived in for about 30 years, but enough people stay in it from time to time that it's stayed in fairly decent shape.  I was pleasantly surprised that we had no nighttime visitors (especially surprising considering the formidable hole in the kitchen floor), since I have a slight phobia of cockroaches.  

The house was sparsley furnished so it was a bit like camping.  

However, unlike camping there was a very nice man who came along at meal times and washed up the dishes for us.  He used to work for the missionaries who lived there thirty years ago.

We read books, played games, enjoyed the fire in the fireplace, went for walks.  It was very relaxing.  I enjoyed chatting with some of the people in the village and learning a little bit about their life.

On Sunday morning we walked to church, passing under several of these cool little covered bridges.  They looked like something from the Shire.

Church was interesting.  It was the first time I'd be to a church where the men sit on one side...

...and the women on the other side.

David gave a short greeting to the church, thanked them for their prayers and shared how privileged we as MAF feel to serve their people.  He asked for a show of hands of those who have ridden on an MAF plane before, and quite a few hands went up.  One man stood and told how he was on a flight with David and the weather was rough, and he and other passengers in the plane prayed for safety.  Several people in the church expressed their appreciation for MAF.

The service was mostly in the local language (called Ketembang), so we couldn't really follow the sermon (except for the one word I was able to learn - "telebe" - which is a word used in greeting).  But it was still fascinating to observe.  The pastor kept repeating one verse over and over (Luke 2:31) and the congregation would repeat it back.  I guess it was for the benefit of those who can't read or don't have Bibles.  The New Testament and parts of the Old Testament have been translated into Ketembang, and work is still being done to finish the entire Bible.

We noticed the homemade instrument below sitting at the front of the church and wondered how it sounds when played.

After church we chatted with some of the people, and learned that many girls in the village get married at age 15.  There were certainly some very young-looking mommas in this group.

There is a school that goes through junior high, and is fully staffed (often the schools interior don't have teachers), but not all the children attend.  I asked one mom why her child doesn't attend and she said the child was "malas"  or lazy to go so she stayed home.  

Later in the day, Zoe wanted to play with the kids but was a bit shy to go out on her own, so I helped bridge the gap for her.  We played frisbee and taught them a game, then asked them to teach us a few games.  When we were done playing I gave them a little pep talk on the importance of going to school and learning to read, but I'm not sure how well they understood me.

We met a local guy, Pak Niko, who could speak English and had spent time in Sentani as well as China and Australia.  We hiked to his village (well, Zoe and I made it part-way) which was situated on a 60-foot wide ridge.  The trail to get there was a bit sketchy in places, but the views were outstanding. 

The two dots in the middle of the photo below are me and Zoe.

David said when they reached the village, a bakar batu was taking place.  Heated rocks placed in a pit are used to cook food, usually pork and sweet potatoes, but this time it was sweet potatoes and buah merah, a popular local fruit.

David arranged our visit to Okbab with the man below, Pak Yuli (yes, the one wearing the funky "Punks Not Dead" hat).  He worked with the missionaries who came in the 1970s and is actively involved in the Bible translation project. He said that even though missionaries brought the gospel to the area in the early 1970s, many people didn't really put their faith in Christ until an earthquake in 1976 devastated their village, which was located on the other side of the mountain at the time.  About 2,000 people lost their lives in the ensuing landslides, and the village was moved to its current location.  Pak Yuli said he and many others were baptized at that time.

It was a blessing for our family and the Bergs to be able to spend a few days in Okbab, one of the many places in Papua served by MAF.  It was a good reminder to us of why we are choosing to live here, so far from our passport country, to serve isolated people and work alongside local churches in sharing God's love with others.  

Earthquakes Can Lead to Family Warmth

Sometimes, I try to force feel-good family moments upon my kids.  I want us to have discussions that are uplifting, encouraging, and sweet, and not wind up with insults, tears, and someone being sent to their room for sassing off.  But somehow, despite my best efforts, I just can’t seem to pull it off. 

Last Sunday was one such instance.  David and I wanted to talk about a few things with our kids, one of which was our re-instituting an allowance for them (hello? Who wouldn’t want to sit still, be sweet, and listen to that?).  There was bickering, negativity, and the obligatory four-seems-to-be-too-many-kids-for-peaceful-discussion-so-one-gets-sent-to-their-room.  Argh. 

But then a strange thing happened.  About an hour later, we had gone our separate ways in the house – some were resting, some were reading, some were doing Lego, some were rearranging a snake cage (you can figure out who did what). And then the earth moved.  Literally.

I was on the couch trying to nap when I was shaken awake by the shimmy of the earth.  I looked at Luke – who was laying on the floor reading – his eyes wide.  David called out from the bedroom – “Earthquake!” 

It was over in a few seconds, and wasn’t a big one (it was 27 kilometers deep and about 25 kilometers away) but it was enough to shake us out of what we were doing.  Everyone gathered in the living room, and this same family who struggled to speak civilly to one another a mere hour ago was all warmth and concern and chatter as we piled on the couch and talked about how the earthquake felt to us. 

Nothing like an earthquake to stir up some spontaneous feel-good family moments.

It was a good reminder for me: our kids do love each other – and if it takes a little shake of the earth to make them show it, so be it.

And for the record, I don’t like earthquakes.  My default reaction is to stand up and “surf” the tremor while praying for it to stop. My friend told me she likes to lie on the floor to “get the full effect.”   I’m definitely not there yet.

Here are a few pictures from a recent flight David did.

These guys seem cracked up by the load they're carrying from the plane

No trouble picking my husband out of a crowd

The Latest

Well, it's been a while since the BorneoMama-Who-Lives-In-Papua has updated, so here we go.

Carter came back from his Outdoor Education trip in one piece, but just barely. For days and days after his return, he slept, fevered, and ate very little.  Highlights of his trip started to emerge through the fog for him: pulling 8 teeth in the dental clinic, going on long hikes, time in their small village, hanging out with village kids.  

For most of the time that Carter was on OE, David was in the U.S. at instructor pilot training at MAF headquarters.  He was able to go meet our new little niece in Colorado while he was stateside. She is Grandchild #16 for the Holstens!

After his training was done, David and I met up in Bali for a few days getaway.  Some truly awesome friends of mine helped watch the kids so I could go.  I didn't realize how much I needed to get away until I got there.  We stayed a few nights in the fancy shmancy part of Bali and we luxuriated in every minute of it.

It was therapeutic to have time alone, sitting by the beach, reading a book, catching up from the three weeks we were apart. It was like the honeymoon we never had.  We also took the time to do a little shopping, eat some amazing food, and get our feet nibbled on by fish.

 I know, weird, right?  But it felt good, and our feet were so smooth afterwards.  I just tried not to think about other people's feet having been in there.

Welcome drink, Bali-style.  I look sloshed, but really I wasn't.  I was just really, really relaxed. 

 All too soon we headed home to Papua and jumped back into life here.  Grace has been playing basketball on the middle school team, and it has been tons of fun to watch.  I remember shrinking in embarrassment when I would sit with my mom as she cheered on my brother in sports, screaming her head off.  And now it's me playing the part of Sports Mama.  Tomorrow is their last game, and they are playing the moms.  Should be fun.

Luke participated in a chapel program about friendship at school recently.  That's him with the green bear.  

Luke seems to enjoy school overall, but occasionally he still asks to be homeschooled.  One morning when I was trying to drag him out of bed to get ready for school, he rolled over and said to me, "See, Mom, if you homeschooled me, you wouldn't have to do this."  Don't tempt me, boy.

Zoe recently reached that milestone that officially moves her out of Little Kid-dom - she lost both top teeth.  

We were very excited this month to welcome our first visitors to Papua - David's brother Jon and our niece Savannah, and her friend Sadie.  We had fun showing them around and they got to experience all sorts of "firsts" - first rat sighting (Savannah), first time snorkeling, first avacado shake, first time in an MAF airplane, first time line-drying clothes (Savannah discovered she really enjoyed hanging out clothes), first time to visit our home, ever!  

It's always fun to see our life through a newcomer's eyes: the crazy traffic, the open-air market, daily chores, the flying, the people, the Base Life.  We really appreciated the opportunity to introduce them to our world, and also to get to know our niece better.

There has been lots of rain recently - I mean, LOTS - both here and interior.  Last Saturday David and another pilot did a flight into Mamit with a group of visitors from Jakarta and the U.S., and they took in rice and noodles for victims of recent mudslides in that area.

That's it from this side of the globe!

Outdoor Education

As I write this, our eldest is in the mountain village of Mamit, doing work projects, helping wtih health clinics and kids clubs, doing his own laundry by hand (that I would love to see!), probably smelling rather ripe, and hopefully having the time of his life.

This past Monday, Carter, along with the entire high school student body at his school headed off to Mamit via MAF planes for a 12-day trip known as Outdoor Education (OE).  I listened to moms talk about the preparations for the trip, and how some of them worry about sickness or injury or the kids being cold.  I had wondered, in the weeks leading up to OE, if I would be wracked by worry (as I am prone to do) about sending Carter off.

And then the day came.  And I was filled with nothing but excitement for my son, with not even a hint of worry or anxiety.

Perhaps it helped that David was C's pilot.

David reported that the first flight of his day was his most beautiful in all his time flying in Indonesia.  The moon was full and enormous, and the sun was rising, and the sky was clear after days and days of rain.

I received news from Esther in Mamit that the kids helped carry an 184-meter long pipe from Mamit to another village to help with a hydroelectric project.  A man sick with pneumonia was already getting better after the kids helping with the health clinic gave him an injection.

My prayer is not only will the people of Mamit and surrounding villages be impacted positively by OE, but C's heart will be moved and he will catch a vision of service to others.

Please Pray for Esther

A school with no teachers.

A clinic with no doctors or nurses. 

A library with no books.

These landmarks were on the tour of Mamit my friend Esther gave me last week.  As she and I walked around the village where she and her husband teach at a Bible school, David circled overhead in the plane, checking out two new pilots at the airstrip.  

Situated on a hill at 5,000 feet in the Swart Valley, Mamit is home to several hundred souls, scratching out a living as subsistence farmers.  There is a government-provided school and clinic, and teachers and doctors receive wages to work here, but they rarely make an appearance in this remote spot.  

And so, babies are dying of curable diseases and children are growing up illiterate.

While Wes teaches a group of Bible school students that attend the school from surrounding villages, Esther teaches the students’ children.  She currently has 50 kids, from babies up to older elementary age.  The older kids tote their bare-bottomed baby siblings along to Esther’s classes, where she teaches them the basics of reading, writing, and math.

She spoke of her frustration with starting over new with the kids each year, how they just haven’t been taught anything – discipline, letters, group play, Bible stories – it’s all new to these kids.

And yet, she sees breakthroughs.  She had one of her students demonstrate for me her ability to write.  The child beamed at me as she wrote in her Lani language, “my mother, my father.”

When I told Esther how much I admire her and Wes and their sacrificial lives lived in service of a remote people group, she told me, “It’s only through the Holy Spirit pouring out in his love in our hearts.”

Wes and Esther live a simple life, eating pretty much the same thing every day – porridge for breakfast, an ubi (sweet potato) and greens for lunch, and noodles for supper.  Lately, Esther said, the sweet potatoes have been scarce.

“I guess we need to pray, ‘and give us today our daily ubi,’” she joked.  But it’s no joke.  On the day we visited we brought seven trays of eggs, and Esther said she would start giving them out to sick people.  “The eggs really make a difference,” she said.

It would be easy to become discouraged looking at the seemingly insurmountable challenges facing the people of Mamit, and knowing their problems are no doubt replicated over and over in villages all over the province.

And yet, what a joy it is to know that we – our family – with MAF is helping to support the ministry of Wes and Esther.  And while it seems like such a tiny scratch on the overwhelmingly needy surface of humanity, it is making a difference.

Just yesterday we heard that Esther has been sick with a bad cough and fever.  Having seen the inadequate medical facilities with my own eyes, I ask you to please join me in praying for my friend Esther, that she would quickly get over this illness and regain her strength, and that she and Wes would be encouraged in their work.

This week in pictures

We finished the puzzle!  The kids helped me put it together, and I must say, it was way more satisfying to put it together without the help of the picture on the box.  So maybe my dad is on to something.

This week we went to the opening day of a Papuan cultural festival taking place on Lake Sentani.  It was very hot, but we managed to see some cool stuff before we succumbed to the heat.  

This guy was dancing up and down on the pier, "calling" to the boats full of warriors waving bows and arrows around.

This colorful parrot was riding on a woman's head as she watched the warriors dance.

There were several artists displaying their handicrafts, including this woman making pottery.

I got to try the local food, called papeda which is made from sago flour and has - according to one friend - the consistency of elephant snot.  I had been warned that to American palates, it's none too tasty, and I admit, it is a bit like eating paste.  It is basically tasteless, but the spicy fish eaten with it makes up for the lack of flavor.  It has been my observation that most cultures have their own version of porridge - in the South it's grits; out west it's cream of wheat; in other parts of Indonesia, there is bubur, a rice porridge.  On their own, these porridges are bland and boring - it's the yummy stuff we add to it that make them delicious (i.e. cheese grits with shrimp).  

Our other big event this week was taking part in another dousing of David, this time for soloing in the Caravan.  

After his shower, David had to do another flight.  Here's a picture of one of his passengers being loaded.

That's it for this week!  Today the kids and I are planning to plant our garden.  We are hoping that our okra seeds will like the tropical climate!