He left, they came, I'll leave, they'll stay

Scott left yesterday with the first wave. He is the pre-pre- team to survey the bridges and make sure that all 82 of us can get in. Dad and Elf surprised us this morning at 9AM. They had to come on a HUGE cargo plane because the normal passenger one does not fly on Saturday. Monday early AM I'll leave with the main body of students and Mijo and Nick will stay here. This will be the longest I have ever been away from them and the longest Scott and I have ever been away from them. It hit Nick the other day for the first time...he now hates OE but is still trying to figure out a way he can come.

This OE thing is quite the strategic nightmare. All of us and our 15 kilo's of luggage, food and cooking gear have to make it into Eipomek by 9AM. We have 2 MAF Caravans, 1 MAF Cessna, 3 JAARS Pilattus Porters and 1 JAARS helio. Some are going early to another airstrip that can handle the Caravans while the Porters which can land at Eipomek will ferry students and barang back and forth in a frenzy before the wind picks up and the airstrip shuts down. We had to all be packed and weighed by this past Wednesday so barang ( all our stuff) is already traveling to the different locations to wait for the Monday morning frenzy. For those who don't know airplanes..Caravan BIGGER and faster, 9 passengers lots of weight but limited to length of airstrip, Cessna smaller can land anywhere limited to 400 kilos and 5 passengers. Porters can carry 9 passengers or barang but not both but can land anywhere but slow. Helio..small, slow and the one I get to travel on. The earliest flight will leave @5:30 and then onward from there...it is about an hour away from Sentani, depending on the airplane you travel on. When we get there we will be digging out our facilities, making our showers by the streams, setting up our sleeping quarters, figuring out the kitchen situation, rigging our electricity and water supply.
During the 12 days...

We will be working on the airstrip, cleaning out a hydro pool, making fences, doing kids club, learning the culture and learning how to serve. All of us 8 leaders are in charge of 9 students. All of us will be in Eipomek for the first 4 days then we will divide into our teams and walk to 8 different villages, Scott's team is the farthest away (6 hours) , mine is the third farthest at 4-5 hours. There we stay with the villagers for 3 days ( this will be the roughest but maybe the most significant part of OE). In the villages we will have to figure out sleeping arrangements (huts), eating (what we can get) and facilities. We will be doing all of this with at least 10-15 people watching us ALL THE TIME. We don't know the language but hope that they will know some Indonesian.
Please pray for our safety..lots of people in the air
Health..close living conditions
Patience and Presence..I will be gracious when I don't want to be, winsome instead of sarcastic, glean from each moment and encourage all the time.
Good Sleep...a good defense
Nick and Mijo will be OK without us...
God will be glorified in all our feeble attempts to do so....Thank you.

OE/Mission trip for MK's

As a high school we are going on a mission trip or what they like to call it here OE, outdoor education. Those of you who are familiar with what OE looks like in the States...this is not the same beast. If you have gone on a mission trip to Mexico or in one of the South American countries with your youth group for a week or two..this is what our OE looks like. We are all going to a village about an hours flight away from here..Eipomek, the same village Scott went to earlier. We are going to work on projects, teach kids club, walk to another village for several days to do kids club, walk back do so more and then come home. We will be gone for 12 days. This is a HUGE undertaking. Think going to the Mbua except instead of just the 6 of us, think 80 people flying in on little airplanes all before 9 AM in the morning. Cooking for all of us on a wood stove and camping equipment and no store to go to if something is forgotten.

I am really looking forward to this..I have a great group of kids (9), Scott is coming along as well so it is something we can both experience, I get to learn another tribes way of life and enjoy roughing it for 12 more days. This time though it is a bit on the rougher then what we did in the Mbua, same rain but no fireplace and sleeping in one room with 50+ other girls plus the whole hygiene thing with river water to wash and a hole in the ground for the other. So...again I will post as much as I can this week and then I will be out till the 8th of February. Please pray...good health and good attitudes.

Who's got it going?

Brittany or this wonderful Grandma in the Mbua. I got such a kick out of this picture. I don't think there could be more of an extreme in women. Both having a hard life for completely different reason. One, because of her choices the other because of her birth. I saw this woman everywhere and I think for the 2 weeks we were there Brittany followed every day on the same T-shirt.

When I first saw the T-shirt I was so irritated that even in the Mbua, that woman continues to pollute my reality. I can't even be in the middle of nowhere without Hollywood and all its junk invading. Then it made me think...who has it better? This lady looks much older then her years but living interior as a woman isn't the easiest existence. She doesn't have much choice though, Ms. Spears on the other hand has all the choices in the world and seems to have made all the wrong ones. Who do you think has it going? Maybe neither but in some odd way these women are connected by a random choice of T-shirt noticed by a person who is familiar with both. I feel for them. One can get out, the other will always stay in.

This honorable Nduga woman who has worked hard her whole life has lost much and gained little. Her entire way of living has not changed either even though she wears on her small body and example of all that has. The rhythm of her days still consists of getting to the garden, eating the sweet potatoes, going to church, sleeping in her smokey hut with her family and pigs. Humble and hard working...I think maybe when all is said and done..she will be at the front of that Holy line. To be honest though, I would not want to live either.

Random thoughts

We had a thunder storm for about 7 hours last night..no kidding. There was no wind so the storm rested on Mt. Cyclops and thundered all night long until it wore itself out. Ever tried sleeping with lightning flashes going off every few minutes? Nick wasn't feeling well and the cat was freaking out so I didn't get the deepest sleep. Fortunately the Muslims forgot to send off their prayer call this morning so at least I could sleep till 7AM.

I was thinking this morning about God speaking in a still small voice rather then in the loud thunder. I wish His voice was louder...like the thunder..I seem to listen much better when all I hear is what is the loudest. We were watching a movie last night and I had to manipulate the volume the whole movie long in accordance to how loud the thunder rumbled. Maybe ...that is why God speaks in a still small voice. We have to turn the volume down on all that is screaming for our attention...so we can deliberately listen rather then being thundered at. I was thinking the other day how nice it would be just to get a simple text message from God then I realized...I always get a text message from Him, I just have to remember to look in the inbox/Bible.

I have lots on my plate in the next month. I am hoping to go on OE which is what the whole High school does for 2 weeks. We are going to a village out in the boonies to live and work and survive. This is a HUGE undertaking though maybe not fun in the sense of the word...it is an adventure. Lots to do we just need to all stay well.

Random thoughts on this Tuesday in January..random thoughts.

When do you go back?

Yesterday we went back to Kali Beru..remember the place that Mijo cut her foot? Anyway, Scott had never gone so with some friends off we went. Let me back track a moment. The weather has been strange lately. It is normal for here but since this is our first January here not so normal. It is the windy season and we are talking gust up to 30-40mph all day and all night long. We were thinking of going to the beach instead but because of the wind the beach is not the best bet. SO off we went. The weather was cloudy but it seemed to be breaking up...seemed being the operative word here. The trip takes about 1 hour and 45 minutes of windy twisty road that my kids get sick on every time. About 30 minutes into the ride it started to rain. SO...when do you go back and when do you press on? Since the idea was to go swimming..we were going to get wet anyway..we kept going. There was quite a large group that went and when we all got there, the older folks sat under the pondok (hut) and the kids had a great time. We did not have to worry about sunscreen, the water was much higher so the jump wasn't that scary, the river ran a bit faster so the ride down was a bit more challenging..all in all not bad.
On the way home we decided to take a detour to look at some Japanese graves. It seems that during the WWII, when the Japanese fled from the Allies about 3000 (may not know the number exactly for all you war buffs) of these soldiers were left to fend for themselves in the jungles. The Papuan were told to kill every Japanese soldier they could find and in return they were going to get paid from the Americans. These people have a long memory..it seems that the Americans never paid for the many Japanese that were killed. When we were asking where these graves were..they kept asking if we were Americans. Fortunately..the family we were with are Germans so reparations for the Japanese deaths will have to made by other Americans who wander way back in this place to see the graves. By the way..expectations versus reality. A graveside usually is marked, here it was a section of ditch and road. The men knew exactly which side of the ditch and were willing to dig it up for us to see...we thanked them for the information and drove away.
If we had gone back because of the rain..what stories we would have missed.

Christmas Mbua style

I haven't told you yet about our Christmas. Elfrieda is just amazing in knowing what to take in to make a celebration of Christmas in the middle of nowhere. There were gifts under the three...but I am getting way ahead of myself.

We needed a Christmas tree so we asked one of the Nduga men if he could get us one that looked a bit like the usual Christmas tree...He said it would take a day or two but no problem. At home in Lynden no matter what day we decide to get the Christmas tree it rains and in the Mbua it was no different. But instead of running back to the truck to get out of the rain, this wonderful man walked back to his home ( 4 hours away) and cut the top of a tree down way back in the jungle and walked back that 4 hours in the rain so that we could have a Christmas tree. I was so appreciative but thought maybe we could have done without. That is a lot of work for a Christmas tree. Either way, we had enough decorations to not only make the tree look great but the rest of the living room.

Christmas Eve day we had a pig feast and Nick and Scott looked on with interest as the pigs were killed by the bow and arrows. The men hold the pig by its legs and the other shoot the arrow ...quite close to the squealing pig. Mijo ran to the house, I plugged my ears and shut my eyes and wished that we did not have to observe or participate in the killing of our meal. Needless to say the pits were dug, the stones were heated, the veges and pig were buried in the pit and we had a service. I spoke on 'Emmanuel, God with us' and then we ate. I remember distinctly that in my youth it tasted a lot better. Maybe it was the dirt in the greens, the pig fat floating in the carcass of the pig, the amazing chewiness of the pig meat itself or it could have been that it started raining and we were sitting in the mud...but the experience was wonderful but the meal..well...
Christmas day we woke early, again Elfrieda had brought stuff for stockings and presents and a wonderful breakfast of pancakes and pudding..it was so wonderful. We another service again and this time, Dad spoke. I am not a great hoopla maker, Elfrieda is amazing and thanks to her the kids felt all the wonder and celebration that comes with the season and for that I am so grateful to her. On Boxing day we had another service but this involved all the churches in the area. I have many pictures but again...blast the Internet and its inability to upload pictures.

Walrus and the Dolphin

OK...the analogy does not quite work because we are talking about on land...BUT whenever I walked anywhere with Scott this is how I felt...I was the walrus slugging away he was the dolphin dancing up the mountain. He walks over the ranges and the only thing he complains about is that he got cold at 10, 000 feet with only a small blanket and a fire, sweet potatoes got old and there was a lot of mud. NOTHING about how hard the walk was, if his muscles were sore which they were not or even if he EVER got out of breath. I walk up the airstrip and I need to wait a minute to catch my breath. He runs up the airstrip and back down to me to see if I am OK. So nonchalant about the whole thing. No wonder the Nduga's claim him...he is like them when is comes to trekking. Me they claim ...but it is because I was born among them. I can imagine they laugh a lot when they see my red face as I struggle up the mountain side on a walk they do every day with a million pounds of potatoes on their back. Oh well...Love the man, jealous of his strength.

Thank you Marnie and LEW for your comments. IT so encourages me to write when I know I am read. You asked me how the kids did. I was so impressed with how they occupied their time, how many hugs they embraced and the food they attempted to eat. The food issues were a bit more difficult for Mijo as were the cockroaches. I'm with her, but Nick liked to catch them and throw them in the fire. There were some nasty little lizard as well...slimy and green and sneaky..these I was also not too fond of. Because of the rain Mijo finished her 400 page story she was writing, and Nick read a lot of books. They were really great and even though they had to sit in 6 church services that were about 2 hours long...they sat and looked like they understood. Two of the services they did...I spoke.
So from the Walrus...stay tuned.

Uncomfortable Platform

You will all have to let me know if you are reading all these posts. I have been trying to get yo up to date but I am thinking you all still think we are interior. After this post I will slow down a bit so that you can catch up...OR, just let me know you are back with me.

It is a strange feeling when you are forever the center of attention every time you open the door, walk out, do mundane tasks or even just standing in the sun. The minute we got out of the airplane we were surrounded with loving embraces but also staring eyes. I remember knowing that I was set apart on some level when I was growing up here and I remember feeling like the platform I was set on was pretty comfortable. Maybe because we were the missionary kids, we were white, we were wealthy comparatively, we were educated..we were different enough that set us apart and set us up on a very awkward platform.

Returning back to the same scene and the same deference, I am no longer comfortable with the attention. I haven't earned any of their loyalty, love or deference. DO any of us really need that...it is a heady game and a dangerous one. If we do begin to believe we deserve the attention the platform gives us we are slipping dangerously into a place where we begin to feel the view from the platform is deserved. I watch Mijo and Nick closely to see if the seeds of superiority sown on that platform have found good soil. As children we received that deference not only here in Papua but when we headed home on furlough. The platform though is not reality, it isn't what is true and there isn't one thing about living in that atmosphere that is conducive to humility and service and God's grace. When we visited Mapnduma on the last day I was hit with overwhelming emotions..we were welcomed with a song group, gifts, weeping and wailing. I wanted to visit my Mom's grave, a moment alone but was completely surrounded the whole time with kind and curious attention. It was too much for me...to many familiar feelings of need I could not begin to address. The platform that we had been precariously put on the minute we landed here in Papua became suddenly way too painful. I am not what they want me to be...I may belong to them in spirit because I was born there, but I am not theirs. I am not able to fulfill their expectations and desires.
I am grateful for their love and loyalty to the idea of me..I am grateful that the platform is no longer comfortable but painful.

The bread will rise and the chicken will fall

This picture may be hard to see in all its darkness but Scott is diligently cleaning a chicken he just killed with a dull knife. The pace of life changes so significantly when you live in the Mbua without electricity, refrigerator and Walmart. Every day was filled with mundane tasks like washing the clothes by brush and a pail of water that had been carried up from the river which had to be heated on a wood stove by wood that had been cut up in the jungle and lugged down by very strong Nduga men. The chicken had to be killed, cleaned and boiled for a long time...these are tough chickens and really skinny. I attempted to make bread there with my new found ability and though the bread turned out fine...making sure the oven wasn't too warm or to cold. Of course, we had to clean the oven out because that is the best place to dry the wet wood that had been carried down from the mountain by the strong Nduga men...

Because it rains all the time, washing and cutting and cleaning etc had to be done in the morning early...We also liked to eat our big meal at noon so the cooking also had to start pretty early. All in all, if we had stuck to sweet potatoes and greens like the rest of the village, we may have had more time for other things. :)

There wasn't any refrigeration which meant we ate what we fixed and had no left overs. We cooked a pig one day and saved it for the next...unfortunately for Scott this did not agree with his stomach and he proceeded to be quite sick until he could expel all the offending hog from his system. This process took about 12 hours, not a pretty sight, sound or smell.

I remember getting upset with Nick about his muddy clothes...one morning he had fallen down 3 times and everything he had on was muddy. Because I had just finished scrubbing clothes all morning, I did not see his falling down as a normal occurrence because of muddy and slippery ground, I saw his falling down as an extra hour of washing the next time it decided to be sunny. Needless to say his explanation of the circumstances around his slipping was falling on deaf ears... I was just calculating how much it scrubbing it would take to get the mud out.

We had a great time, maybe just because we had never had to work so hard for what we have always taken for granted. The skinny chicken tasted good with the warm bread by the fireplace amongst the drying clothes rushed in and hung because the rain had started to fall.

Rain falls mainly...in the Mbua

I have been trying all morning to upload some pictures but today I am being thwarted. There are several words that come to mind if I was going to paint a picture for you of our stay. There are some emotional aspects, physical aspects as well as spiritual aspects. For the emotional....my folks are adored and every time they get out of the airplane, car or house there are many who just want to say hello and hang on for dear life. There were so many tears of joy and sorrow that my heart still ache with the memory. The Nduga's have been so loyal to Dad and Elfrieda over all these years, that even the spans of time since they were here last makes no impression on the depth of longing each has to be with each other.

Living in the Mbua requires you to be adaptable and patient. It rains in the Mbua every single day. Not a simple downpour and call it good...it starts to rain around 11AM and does not stop till about 2 Am. At times you can hear 2 different rain clouds vying for the right to be the first to fall. There can be gently falling of the rain when suddenly on top of that gentle falling you hear angry large raindrops trying to take over. When this happens...conversation stops, you can't hear over the rain on the tin roof. This also requires you to do everything in the morning...washing the clothes, fixing the generator ( was not fixed), go on hikes, wander the village, have a pig feast. This was also not hard to do because Ute would come in around 5:30-6AM to yell into the radio to see what was going on at the other Nduga outposts. Dinus would also come in around 5:30 to start the fires in the fireplace as well as the stove...Scott was quite able to do either but before he came, we all attempted the fire to no avail, lots of matches and smoke but no fire. So the whole afternoon and evening we were inside, looking at each other saying...ok, what do we do now. We read a lot, played cards, Nick played with his bow and arrow, Mijo wrote her book, we tried to figure out what to make for supper that did not look too much like what we ate the previous night, Scott gave some excellent massages and we looked and listened to the rain.

Spiritually....I'll have to tell you later.

The places we find ourselves

I think this thought came to Scott when he found himself by himself on the side of the mountain, the second day into his trek. His companion had walked ahead of him and had not communicated exactly what he was doing...of course Scott does not speak Indonesian and this man did not speak English. He was standing at the edge of a land slide that had obscured the trail. Scott did not know if he was to go up the slide to find the trail, or down. It was getting dark, it was raining, he was alone with absolutely no idea where he was, how far he needed to go, what the man had said and if fact..who the man was. The thought that came to his mind at that time...'it is really amazing the places you find yourself'.

The day before, he had left Wamena on a rented taxi to drive 4 hours up to Habima lake. The picture on the left shows the road and the lake from the plane I was on flying over the trail Scott was on. The one man Dinus who was going to take him had morphed into Dinus, his whole family and 2 other men. Upon arrival at the lake, Dinus became violently ill and remained ill for the whole 3 day trek. His wife was walking with sore knees and his kids, well they were all younger then Nick, and they all were barefoot. Scott went ahead with another man and they began the journey.

The first night they camped in cave overhang. It was rainy and very cold. The elevation was 10, 000 feet and I was cold at 6000 feet with all my blankets in a warm and dry house. The next day was the most difficult because it was coming down from the high ranges into the valley of the Mbua. Naik, naik, naik....climb, climb, climb....mud, rain, logs, mud, small small trails, side of cliffs, many river crossings...and finally all alone in the middle of it all.

Scott made the decision to go up the slide and find a trail, hoping it was the one he was supposed to be on. He hiked for a good 30 minutes on his own before he found the net bag of the man who had gone before him. That night they camped in a hut...a fire was quickly built and smoke quickly filled every spot in that hut. Scott did not care, fell asleep and only woke when it seemed that things were crawling around him. They were...what to do...sleep again till morning. This Was Sunday morning and at 8 AM he walked gallantly into the Mbua and up to the house.

The Ndugas have claimed him as their own, it seems if you can walk with them...you are in.

As he was bathing, I proceeded to clean out his bag. IT was crawling with cockroaches...little bitty ones...but EWWWWWWWWWW.

There is no way in this short little story I can fully impart this experience. Details of the story keep coming out. Scott is pretty amazing that he would attempt this adventure without the security..well of anything. He lost a few more pounds...but I don't even think he was sore. He has a connection with the Nduga people and a very deep respect for these amazing people. I know this story is a bit disjointed...it is second hand and if you know Scott he isn't a verbose man. I am attempting to fill in the outline of the journey but I have a feeling, you are going to have to sit down with him to hear the depth of this experience.

Over the river and through the woods...

Nothing like starting the new year with new stories, new template and a new perspective. There is so much to tell about our time interior that I am having a hard time even starting but I will start where all good stories start...at the beginning.

Over the river and through the woods and in a plane and over rough terrain and through some other rivers and in a lot of mud and in another airplane really early in the morning and through a crowd of welcoming Ndugas to grandmother's house we go...

Sentani may feel like you are far away from things, then you go to Wamena and you feel like you are in the wild west Papuan style but when you land in the Mbua, you really have the feeling that you are in the middle of absolutely no where. The transition from here to almost nowhere is Wamena.


Wamena, the biggest town in the world fed only by airplane. There are no roads in from Sentani so everything you see has been brought in by air. It is a strange mix of cars, bicycle carts, motor cycles and naked old Dani men selling their curios at the airport. Coming in with Dad and Elfrieda suddenly gave us an inroad into life in Wamena beyond the wonderful homes at the MAF base. Wamena has 480 street children, an Aids case every day, prostitution, alcoholism and violence. It is an haven for transvestites from all over Indonesia and gambling is becoming a problem. You can almost feel the tension as you drive the narrow streets. Not to many smiles but a lot of people who want to sell you something. We made the mistake of getting out of the car near a store that sells Papuan art, the store was closed but we were soon surrounded by many men who had a trinket to sell. It was great work, I was excited until I realized how much they were asking and that saying no was not taken seriously. Fortunately, we were saved by some missionaries who were driving by and rescued us from belligerent Dani's.

We had to pack and repack all of our barang (stuff) so that we could fit everything into our two flights into the Mbua. One of Elfrieda's mantri's (nurses) found us and wanted to come in with us on our flights. Dinus needed to be with us in the Mbua so we were working hard trying to figure out how he could come plus everything that we needed. Out of the blue came the idea that maybe someone could walk. Scott thought it would be a good idea, Dinus decided that he needed someone to guide him, Jeep was rented to drive up to the plateau and everyone was ready to go. Walking over has always been a dream of mine..unfortunately I am not in any shape for that kind of adventure..Scott is always in shape for any kind of adventure. So 4 AM on the friday (21st) we were flying in, Scott left with a Jeep load full of men/women and children to hike to the Mbua. They were thinking it would take them about 2 days walking to our 30 minute plane ride. There he was walking with people he did not know, to a place he never has been, over terrain he has never experienced, in a language he does not speak. I think that is called trust...or faith...something! Stay tuned for the rest of the story...

Happy New Year..by the way.