Farewell, Base Life!

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.

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.

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! 

Semua Harus Tahu - Everyone Must Know!

I remember being in middle school when the gravity and reality of HIV-AIDS struck me.  I heard in the news that Ryan White, a kid not much older than I was, died from AIDS after contracting the virus from a tainted blood treatment.  I remember thinking, wow, someone my age can get that, and die from it?

Fast-forward 20 years and great strides have been made in AIDS awareness, prevention, and treatment.  It doesn't seem to be the hot topic that it once was, at least not in the U.S., perhaps.

However, here in Papua, the effects of HIV-AIDS are devastating, and unfortunately, the virus is spreading rapidly.  Statistics show that Papuans are contracting the virus at a rate more than 10 times the national average.  Buzz and Myrna Maxey, longtime CMA missionaries in Indonesia, have a burden to educate the people of Papua about this virus.

Last Thursday Buzz and Myrna presented to the MAF Sentani national staff about their program called "Semua Harus Tahu," or, "Everyone Must Know."  

Myrna and Buzz

Buzz shared that every day in Wamena (an area in the mountains where MAF has a base) three to four people die due to AIDS.  And, he said, 99 percent of the cases in Papua are transmitted sexually.

"It's a disaster," Buzz said.  "But people aren't shocked by it anymore."

Through the use of video, drama, and posters, the Maxeys' program emphasized purity before marriage (suci sebelum menikah) and faithfulness after marriage (setia setelah menikah).  They warned of the dangers of alcohol (a major problem in Papua) and pornography, factors which lead to sexual promiscuity and the spread of the virus.  They explained how the virus is transmitted, and how it is not transmitted.

Buzz showed how each of the five fingers of the hand can be used to remember key points about HIV-AIDS:
1. Love people with the virus
2. Love your family
3. Tell others about the dangers of HIV-AIDS
4. Be faithful to the Lord
5. Save Papua

Buzz, who has flown on MAF planes his whole life, announced a partnership with MAF at our meeting on Thursday.  He and his "Semua Harus Tahu" group have developed a brochure that will go in each seat pocket in our MAF planes.  The laminated brochures include information about HIV-AIDS, as well as a hotline number to call for help. 

Myrna and Buzz with Papua Program Manager Mike Brown

Yakobus, helper with the Semua Harus Tahu program, with MAF pilot and good buddy of ours Dave Ringenberg, insert HIV-AIDS brochure in the seatbacks of an MAF Cessna Caravan

David has told me how the passengers, perhaps bored and with no reading material of their own, will read every detail of the safety briefing card in the seat backs.  Now every seat back will have this important brochure and has the potential of impacting many of the 40,000 passengers a year that fly with MAF.  

Semua Harus Tahu!

Papuan Handshake

How do you greet your friends?  With a handshake? A bear hug? A side hug? A bro hug? A high five?  An air kiss by the cheek?  Here's a greeting to add to your repertoire.

Here in Papua, certain tribes have a unique greeting that I just love.  It starts like a normal handshake:

Then you connect your fingers like this with your knuckles overlapping:

And then you pull hard for a satisfying SNAP!

Now, go and do likewise.

The lady in the picture often gives bananas to David when he flies into her village.  Maybe she's trying to appease the Scary Giant Pilot?

Nah, I think it's just that she's a generous soul.  

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.  

Christmas in Papua

Another Christmas overseas (our 11th!) and we celebrated in a variety of ways.  Here are a few photos:

My friend Christy hosted a Christmas party for all the helpers who work for the MAF families in Sentani.  I gave a short devotion, and then there were crafts and snacks. It was a blessing to see these men and women who work so hard for us relax and enjoy themselves. 

Christmas was also celebrated with Christmas plays...

an MAF Christmas party where the kids sang...

...and David spoke.  Most churches and organizations have a theme for their Christmas program, and MAF's was "The King has come."

Grace played the flute in the middle school band concert...

..and there were Christmas parties in the elementary school.  A toilet paper snowman is as close as we get to the real thing!

We enjoyed an MAF Christmas cookout on base.

And we took a shopping trip to the big city of Jayapura where we saw some interesting Christmas decorations like this white tree (the kids call them "ghost trees" because at night when they're lit up they seem to sway in a ghostly way).

A Christmas tradition in Papua is to make a pondok Natal, or Christmas hut.  This one, apparently sponsored by Honda, was very elaborate.  Usually there's Mary and Joseph and baby Jesus, sometimes joined by Santa or the Wise Men, and often Christmas music is blaring.  

Every year there seems to be something different sold on the side of the street at Christmastime.  This year it was all kinds of lights.

On Christmas Eve we kept our tradition of decorating Christmas cookies.  Can you spot the one inspired by Lord of the Rings?

Other goodies included a cheeseball, and bacon on Christmas morning.

St. Nicholclaus (as Zoe calls him) was good to us all this year.

After opening presents on Christmas morning, we did some visiting per Indonesian tradition.  This is Pak Onong and his family.  Onong works as MAF's flight scheduler.

We enjoyed Christmas dinner with some friends who have a tradition of exchanging presents that are very elaborately wrapped.  You also must come up with a clever poem about the gift's recipient.  Luke's gift was sewed up in a rice bag.

I love this little roadside stand.  It has everything you need for  Papuan Christmas: noisemakers, fireworks, Santa hats, cookies for visitors, and decorations.

So our Christmas wasn't exactly what it would be if we were in the U.S., but we were thankful for our time as a family, and with friends who are like family.  

We wish you a Selamat Hari Natal dan Tahun Baru 2014!

End of the Semester Reflections

It's finals week at our kids' school, which means Christmas parties for the younger ones, and end-of-semester tests for the older ones.  I've been teaching the sophomore English class, and let me just say, although I enjoy teaching this class very much, I totally underestimated how much of my time it would consume.  I often feeled buried in papers to grade and lessons to prepare, on top of all the work that goes into keeping my family fed and clad in clean clothes (and thus the blog falls by the wayside).  I have a new appreciation for all teachers everywhere as well as any mom who works outside of the home.  God bless you.

My sophomores are from all over the globe: Canada, the U.S., Malaysia, Singapore, and South Africa.  I look at them, and remember myself at that age.  The insecurities I felt.  Trying to figure out who I was and where I fit.  I struggled to keep up with friends and classes, and endured a boyfriend-less state, and many Friday nights I could be found riding the bench at basketball games, half-hoping and half-dreading that Coach would put me in. 

But my sophomore year was not all awkwardness and loathsome moments.  It was the year that my English teacher said to me, “You have a gift.”  My essay on To Kill a Mockingbird was photocopied and handed out to all her sophomore classes.  This was significant in more ways than one.  Obviously, she gave me a confidence boost when I was desperately needing one.  But more significantly to me at the time, the boy I had a massive crush on but had never peeped a word to turned to me in German class and commented on it.  

"Good job on your essay."

I died and went to heaven right there.  I was sure it meant we were destined to be together and spent hours thinking of just how he turned his head and said those blessed words to me. I was reminded of this little episode when we were in the U.S. this summer and I came across an old journal from that year.  I had devoted two pages of painstaking detail to the whole incident, and I cringed and laughed to read it.

My teacher lit a little flame in me, one that gave me hope that despite my lack of prowess on the basketball court, there was something I could do, something that could possibly even become a career one day.

She told me she fully expected to see my name on a book cover in the future, and though that has not happened, and may never happen, I still love to write. And now I get to teach writing to high schoolers.

The class I'm teaching is unique in that my oldest child is one of my students.  Perhaps he was having flashbacks to our homeschool days, but he was a bit wary heading into this semester knowing his mother would be teaching him.  Also, there is just so much potential embarrassment to having your parent standing in front of your peers, saying all kinds of mortifying things.   I’ve gotten a few goofy comments from him, like “Mom, don’t touch me in class” or “Mom, the kids don’t like it when you give homework.” (What was I thinking, assigning homework to high schoolers?!).  Then, when it is convenient to him, having Mom as Teacher is the greatest thing evah.  “Mom, can you hold my papers for me and bring them home?”  “Mom, can I borrow 5,000 rupiah for a doughnut?”  Mmmm-hmmm.  When it’s advantageous to him, I am Beloved Teacher Mom.  But I’m not going to be too hard on him – there should be some perks to having your parent teach you.

We just wrapped up a study of To Kill a Mockingbird (isn't that poetic? It seems I've come full-circle).  I had forgotten what a wonderful book it is.  Maycomb, Alabama reminds me of the little town in Mississippi where I spent many vacations visiting my grandparents.  I can so easily envision the dusty streets, the odd neighbors, the Jitney Jungle.  None of my students have spent any significant amount of time in the deep South, so I had to explain a great deal to them.  Why manners are so important.  Why you don't ever say the "N" word.  What ambrosia and azaleas are.  How hard it was for African-Americans then, and how hard it still can be.  

The best thing about the book is Atticus Finch, the central character and the hope of his small town.  Re-reading it, I realized that I love Atticus because he reminds me of several people in my life with impeccable integrity: my father, his father, a former boss, my husband, my father-in-law.  Each of these men went (or still goes) about their work in a steady and quiet manner, compassionate and courageous in big and small ways.  

The themes of the book - prejudice against certain people groups (that certainly happens here in Papua), stereotyping, courage under pressure - are timeless and universal and I enjoyed helping my students relate to them.  

As much as I've enjoyed the class, I'm looking forward to the next few weeks off with time to read books of my own choosing.  Right now I'm reading Why Do They Act that Way? about teenagers' brain development (really, it's riveting), How Now Shall We Live? by Francis Schaeffer (can only take a few bites of that one at a time), and Realityland, a behind-the-scenes story of how Disney World was made.  Yes, the Disney obsession continues.  What are you reading???  

This Week in Pictures

Saturday, David and Carter took a hike in the jungle.  Carter found a cool lizard and David got some lovely photos.

Monday through Friday, Carter's sophomore class led Spiritual Emphasis Week for the elementary classes.

On Tuesday the airport was hosting a blood drive in honor of Hari Perhubungan (Department of Communications Day).  It's such a different experience than giving blood in the U.S.  The only screening was a blood-pressure check.  And they don't take as much blood as in the states.  Aaaannnd, the snack choices for post-donation recovery are definitely different - boiled eggs, boxed milk, red bean pudding, and spring rolls.  

On Wednesday we had to go to the big city of Jayapura for fingerprinting for our visa.  The bonus was we got to stop by the mall there.  Zoe and Luke rode bumper cars for the first time, and we enjoyed treats at JCo Donuts (the closest we get to Krispy Kreme).  This is my favorite drink - avacado and coffee.  I know what you're thinking, but avacadoes are not just for guacamole, my friend.