Ready for home

In the life of a missionary there are long periods of time where you are working to find what is the “new normal” for you and your family. You see, once you decide to become a missionary what is “normal” is a constantly changing denominator. You find yourself struggling to define it but, usually, when you hit it, you find you are breathing a little easier.

We stopped having “normal” about 9 months before we left Papua New Guinea to return to the US for furlough. Some may wonder why so long before the actual event we were so disrupted. Packing our house and readying it so it could hopefully be rented while we were gone, try to arrange for phones, housing, transportation, and as much of daily living details before landing stateside, saying goodbye to friends who have become like family, for our children to say goodbye to their home (they don’t have any memories of America), fund-raise for Evan to be able to make it to Thailand for the BAM conference. Get Evan to Thailand and back to PNG in the cheapest and most efficient way. Live apart while making the final preparations and goodbyes for the last month of our time in PNG.

Throw in there a health scare that nearly resulted in a medivac to Australia and a logistical nightmare I am still thanking God about and also still wondering what is wrong with me…

Anyway, since landing stateside (March 25) we have continued to spend a lot of time not being normal. We made a major shift in resigning from our mission organization and began to filter our funding through another. To put it mildly, this has not been a smooth transition.

I have struggled these three years with barely making it from month to month. In fact, truth be told, I struggled with an awful lot while we were following God’s will. I absolutely hated that no matter how many “overtime” hours Evan spends at the shop it has nothing to do with how much will come in or whether it will cover the bills.

I was torn up with hearing how much of a sacrifice we are making and how brave and amazing we are and then feeling forgotten 24 hours after our latest newsletter is delivered.  Then feeling guilty for feeling fed-up; knowing that if the roles were reversed I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same thing; lapsing back into my kids’ playdates, work, dinners…you know. Life.  Life is what happens when you leave a previous spot you occupied in a certain corner of the world and make a new space for yourself in another corner. The old spot gets filled up with other people and other things. When you come back, room is made, but you don’t have your old spot and you never will again.

I knew this. I had read books, blogs and talked to experienced people on the field. I knew that when I came back it would be a hard thing to find a place for me and my family. There would be reverse culture shock. And boy is there ever.  But, just as you truly don’t know what is like to live overseas until you do it…you don’t know about furlough until you do it.

I am ready to run away. But not from home, I am ready to run away TO home. But home is no longer here. And there, it is slowly getting further away, as I see by the facebook posts. Of friends living life in a space I used to occupy and hope to occupy again, friends leaving for their own new spaces, some are new, new spaces…another mission, another country. And some are new, old spaces. Time to resettle in birth countries, for now or for always. I am happy and sad for them all.

I often feel I am a bit like Scrooge on one or the other of his first two ghostly visits…my life past and my life now…standing in the midst but not being seen.

I don’t like putting up these blog posts because it seems like I am doing nothing but complaining in them…And I certainly don’t want to make it seem like I am fishy for a pity-party, a “How is your faith?” inquiry (believe me, I talk to God every day…and I can’t get through my days without Him) or anything else.

But I have also received encouragement from various fronts to be authentic . So. I here am.

A little bit stuck between.

Business as Missions...some thoughts from Evan

Business As Mission: Some thoughts…from Evan

What does endemic poverty or political corruption have to do with redemption?

I have been learning about ways in which God has commanded us to interact with the world and how the Kingdom of Heaven is supposed to look on Earth.  As a result, I have also seen parts of the picture we as Christians have overlooked in the past few generations and that oversight has become the norm.

As modern Christians our paradigm of the nature of sin has so narrowed that we no longer even recognize how the world is broken.  Our command to “disciple the nations” has broken down to “save souls” or “plant churches.”  And that seems to be mostly what we do.  That's a good thing and important.  But it’s also a very small view of the divine narrative; God working to redeem the whole of creation.  It is the story from Genesis through Revelation.  We have learned to read only a small part of it, and that through a lens. 

The first two chapters of Genesis is the account of God's creation and the value He invests in it.  At every step God said, “It is good.”  This includes work, companionship, stewardship, the whole physical and spiritual world that He had created.  There is nothing – not even the physical – which is not good.  When our first two ancestors messed up this balanced system the entire rest of the Bible is the story of God redeeming the world to Himself and bringing in the values and characteristics of the Kingdom of Heaven to Earth through those who obey Him.  The Ten Commandments are a boiled down, concentrated slurry of values that describe the heart of God; firstly, who God is and who we are.  Then how we are to interact with God, each other and the rest of the world.  The book of Deuteronomy is the practical interpretation of those laws in that time and place.  It is a concrete example of how God wanted to “bless the nations” through Israel.  Most of the time the statement to Abram (“the peoples of the Earth will be blessed through you” Genesis 12:3), is spiritualized.  The interpretation is that eventually Jesus would be the blessing which came through Israel; which is true, but not really the point.  In fact, the Old Testament is full of methods – not just theory – of how to build a community which reflects the values of God.  It is one which not only takes care of itself, its own weak and vulnerable but also weak and vulnerable foreigners within its borders.  It describes how to build a community that values government, economics, family, science and technology, communication, arts and entertainment, education, religious instruction, health care, law and justice and all the subcategories within those.  In short, it is the discipleship of a nation.  We have forgotten that and only disciple people.  I believe that God is not a generalist; He does not desire a theoretical blessing.  And He has given us the tools for real blessing without being a prosperity gospel. 

Business As Mission is based on the understanding that God calls EVERYBODY to some kind of work.  There is no sacred/secular divide – an artificial distinction between what we consider God-ordained and everything else.  The sacred/secular divide can be lumped into broad categories.  The first category might include missionaries, evangelists/church planters and pastors.  The second category might include... well, everybody else, really.  Apparently everybody else's primary job is to support “ministry work.” 

Regarding the concept of “full-time ministry”…  To indicate that a person is “called into full-time ministry” is to indicate that others are number one) not called.  And number two) not doing ministry.  This is to reassign value based on our own prejudice.  More to the point, we are nullifying the value that God has assigned, saying, “I know better than God what is sacred,” and then saying the work we are doing is God-ordained.  When God has deemed a thing as sacred, it is not our place to deem it otherwise. 

A less extreme example but at least as prevalent and harmful is what I will call the Spectrum of Holiness.  At the top you've got missionaries and pastors; typical ministry work.  Next there are the doctors, aid workers; humanitarian type work.  Slightly below that are teachers and social workers.  Then there are just the people with jobs; poor souls.  Not even on the spectrum are business owners, lawyers and politicians.  They are the necessary evil because somebody has to do it.  I've heard more than once the question posed whether real Christians could even participate in some of these professions because obviously a prerequisite must be moral leniency. 

As a result, much of the redemption that Christ-followers are supposed to be injecting into culture (salt and light, remember?) has been long absent.  We have abandoned governance, higher education, science and business professions to those who adamantly claim there is no standard by which to live.  And then we wonder why our culture is going down the gurgler?  Our culture has little remaining positive Christian influence in many realms because we have willingly abandoned the influence to whoever would like pick it up.  The devil will not leave such an opportunity idle.  Even worse, it is not an uncommon accusation from well-meaning Christians that to be successful or to have influence is un-biblical.  So we tear down the Christians who might actually be in positions to most concretely affect the community when we should be holding them up and affirming their sacred calling. 

Regarding the template that God laid out, the methods for discipling the nations are described in the Old Testament; much of it in the books that have been deemed by some to “not have any relevance to modern Christians because we are no longer under the Law.”  To claim such is to miss the point of both the “Law” and the nature of redemption.  The principles of discipling a nation are integrated into the Old Testament narrative.  Though they are affirmed in the New Testament, they are not repeated.  Therefore, if one was to only read the New Testament then Christianity is no longer redemption; it is reduced to sin-maintenance.  True redemption effects all of creation, all of life; not just afterlife (John 10:10). 

To say that much of our current practices and paradigm are wildly divergent from biblical principles of affecting a community is not mis-stating the situation.  But though we have missed the mark (which happens to be the Hebrew understanding of sin, by the way), look at how open the way is for true transformation.  God has not only sanctioned our involvement in business, politics, science, entertainment and the like – He has ordained those professions as holy and pleasing to Him.  This is the freedom to fully embrace whatever God has gifted each of us to be and do even for those who are not pastors. 

A Season of Letting Go...

I have been preparing in many ways for probably a good 6 months to leave Papua New Guinea. I have done this because I have been told by many people over and over that it is important.  That in order to be a healthy missionary, you need to say proper good-byes, and you should start gearing up to go back to a place which is not entirely home anymore. I love planning. I love making lists; it makes me feel accomplished to check things off. So, I was more than willing to “make a plan”.

Well, the plan hasn't worked the way I have wanted it to in many respects, which is another story. But I have started to realize that this is the beginning of a season of letting go for me, and furlough is just a part of it.

There have been times in my life where I have had breakthroughs or major shifts in my life direction. Sometimes they come in the form of epiphanies, sometimes it is achieved through gradual clarity. But, always, ALWAYS these moments come with pain and loss of some kind.

So, for the last 6 months there have been changes taking place, picking up speed in the last month.  Mostly I have only told a few close people around me. Because it was hard and painful and frankly it is doubly hard to be world-wide honest with people when  the wide-spread perception is that missionaries are very spiritual people who have it all together, otherwise they wouldn't be doing what they are doing…I feel particularly this view still strongly applies to missionary wives.

First came the letting go of material security. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, we live off faith-based support from others, we gave up our house in America, the house we own here could be taken at any time as the land our center exists on is leased from the PNG government….etc, etc.

But, for a long time I have known that having things, “hoarding” in the sense of we won’t be going through the supply anytime soon but you never know when we might need that thing…is like Linus’ security blanket for me. It is always there, I can open the door to the storage space (because, yes there was so much that there wasn't room in the rest of our house) and look and know that our family is protected from…something…

Anyway, there was painful prayers and conversations that happened and I started letting go. First the easy things, things I knew we would never use, had been sitting since they came out of the boxes we shipped here 2 years ago…and the more I eliminated, the easier it got, the more free I felt.

The gates had been opened. I started examining other areas where I could improve.

I had known for a while that I had been slowly gaining weight. At first I thought it was just the diet here, lots of rice, noodles, sweet potato. Then I really got honest. Maybe it was some of that, but given that we eat a lot of vegetables as well, and I have been walking everywhere since April, there had to be other explanations. Looking at my cupboards I lifted my blinders and saw. I was using food as a way of controlling my stress, because that was one of the few things during this time I thought I could control. So, when I had a bad day, I drank a can of soda. Something I very rarely did in America.

My body had become addicted to the sugars, and the serotonin it produced. Coming down off that has not been easy, Christmas time is a bad time to say I am cutting my sugar and fats. And I haven’t lost really anything yet. But most days I feel better and I hope that the weight loss will happen, and that I will not backslide badly while Evan is away.

Side note: Prayers for the time when Evan is separated from us will be greatly coveted. Honestly, e-mails of encouragement would really bless me too, as this will be an incredibly stressful time for all of us. I will be guiding our boys through saying goodbye to their friends and their home. I will be saying goodbye to a place that after three years I have finally started to feel settled and figure out my place in, to go back to a place where even loved ones have gotten used to not having me around and I am not sure how to navigate.

During this time I started reading As Soon as I Fell: A Memoir by Kay Bruner. It was very surreal to read as in portions of it, she was speaking of where I live. I know the literal dirt-road corner she is talking about where she finally came to a point where she could not take it anymore. I found so much of myself in her words it scared me, but it also comforted me.  It opened up conversations with friends here who could relate and commiserate.

But it also signalled another time for self-examination and a time to let go and change….

In my seemingly endless sorting and packing of our house, I have come across several things I have held onto because I have a not so secret hope. I want a baby girl.

Evan and I had talked in loose terms before we came to PNG about the possibility of adopting a girl to add to our family. We waited for a bit for the dust to settle and then, we began an investigation into the possibility.

At this point I don’t want to say too much about it because, well, I guess I haven’t entirely let it go…J

But I began to form an idea in my mind over Christmas. When, about a week ago we were at my best friend’s home celebrating her youngest daughter’s birthday the realization flew dramatically to the fore-front of my mind.

Looking at the 1 year old little girl in her red party dress, smiling and loving her mama my heart was screaming; Why not me? Why couldn’t I have one too?

The response was: Maybe I’m not meant to. I don’t know yet if this is truly God closing the door. We are still exploring an option, but regardless, I have reached a place where, no matter how sad it makes me, I must give away (among other things) that pink changing pad (which, yes I used for my boys, but am not holding onto for sentimental reasons). The ache, even as I write this is strong. I can feel the pressing of tears behind my eyes. But I am still saying, now is a season of letting go. And I must let go of this too.  

Are my children pre- or post- grievers? Or...The art of saying goodbye.

I recently posted a blog that explained I am a post-griever. You can read it here 

A couple of weeks ago a friend of Liam’s left for furlough. I didn’t think he was that affected. He saw this friend at school but didn’t spend that much time with him outside of that. But, yesterday he announced he was going to make a card for this friend to send to him in America. Then he said he also wanted to make a card for another friend “for when she goes to America too.” That’s when I realized Liam is already aware of his own feelings of loss and finding ways to deal with it.

As our own family gets closer to our own departure from the place we, and more particularly our children (they have lived in PNG now more than half their lives), call home; I have been pondering what is my children’s grief going to look like and how can I help them process it?

We all experience good-byes. The impact and our ability to verbalize and process these goodbyes vary widely based on many factors including our age and mental well-being at the time. Jesus experienced goodbyes the same as us. In Joyce Rupp’s book Praying Our Goodbyes she writes:

“He, [Jesus] too, had many moments when he felt pulled apart, knew the hurt of leaving behind, felt the emptiness that comes with deep loss. Jesus was not spared the ache and the struggle of letting go.  He knew the price of goodbyes.”

As our MK children grow, they will experience more goodbyes than their non-MK peers. My hope is that I will be able to learn the art of saying goodbye like Jesus so that I can teach and help my children to do the same. I don’t know yet whether they will be post- or pre-grievers but either way I am determined to be there with them, if they want me, so that they won’t feel they are alone in their grief.

Liam, at least right now, shows signs of being a post-griever like me. He doesn’t seem that bothered or sad before his friends leave. But, his melancholy and upset words and attitudes a week, two weeks and even sometimes a month afterwards speaks differently. Those words and attitudes say, “I miss them. I am sad. I am looking forward to when I see them again, but I am unsure when that will be. That uncertainty makes me a little sad and frustrated.”

He certainly is not that verbally articulate, neither is his brother for that matter. Nor will they be when it is our turn to depart. In fact, I anticipate that in addition to these emotions, they will also be wrestling with thoughts similar to, “I am worried I won’t have friends in America. What if no one likes me? What will happen to the friends and things I leave behind?”

I write these things now to not only remind myself but to also ask you who read this, and will be part of our lives when we are in America, to please be aware of how hard this will be for them. After the novelty of the new place wears off, they will go through a period of missing their friends and home. And when they do, they will likely be more grouchy, tearful and generally unpleasant from time to time.

They will be little boys who have had to say goodbye to all that is familiar and home them. And they have a mom who is only just learning how to do this well herself. Thank you in advance for graciousness and patience.

Positive, positive, positive

After my last posting I felt the need to focus on some of the very positive and wonderful things about living here in PNG.

1.   Friends: Both for the boys and for Evan and I. We have settled into Ukarumpa life and have a close-knit network of some incredible friends who have become like family.

Miss Alice our regular babysitter and our friend with granddaughter Liz

"Aunt" Jessica and "Aunt"Narelle

Andrew Kwimberri

Danny

Levi

2.       The wondrous and diverse creation of God: We have enjoyed hikes, swimming, snorkeling, off-road motorcycling (even we are on the road it qualifies as off-road as there is little pavement.), and observing wildlife of varied kinds, amongst other things since we arrived in-country.

3.       Seeing and contributing to the effort of getting God’s word into the hands of people, in their heart language for the first time. Looking forward to our first ever Bible dedication on the 27^th of September. Pictures and blog to follow!

4.       Fresh veggies and Fruit. Our local market supplied from villages surrounding us offers a plethora of yummy and diverse foods year-round.

I am grateful to God who chose this path for our lives. Thanks to my parents for some of these pictures.

Finishing Well

Over the last couple of months, I have been really struggling with what we term as “finishing well”. Finishing well means to be in the moment right up until you leave the country, to not be daydreaming all time about when you get to [fill in your passport country], how much better it is going to be. Because the truth is no matter where you are, Satan will try to kill, steal and destroy every good thing. And you are called to be here, therefore you owe it to God and to yourself to serve with your whole heart right to the last day in-country. I know this and trying to practice it, even going to the extent of sharing my struggle with our very supportive Bible Study. Despite my effort I found myself, after Evan reported the latest in a recent conflict between two language groups, putting my head in my hands and saying “I wish we could all go with you to Thailand because that means we leave here a month earlier.”.

I don’t write much about certain aspects of our life here in the Eastern Highlands Province (EHP) of Papua New Guinea (PNG) for various reasons. One of the most prominent is that frankly, if I did it would scare some of you. You would begin to question why we have our children here and such like.

So, I will start by stating some points. Yes, PNG is sometimes a dangerous place to live. Everywhere Evan and I have lived with and without our children has been sometimes dangerous to live in too. We both believe that the best place for our family is under the umbrella of God’s will regardless of where that is geographically. We believe us living and serving in PNG is God’s Will. That does not mean we live as if nothing bad could ever happen to us. If we ever felt that our lives were in true immediate danger we would not hesitate to do anything in our power to get away from that danger.

I also want to reiterate (as I state in the “About me” section of this blog) that the words that are expressed herewith are mine and mine alone. They are not to be affiliated with any other person or group.

First I will start with some general things that contribute to my almost daily prayers to God that He help me to be joyful in my day and His light here in PNG.

1.  Theft and other destructive behaviors: We, thankfully, have never had even an attempted break-in of our home. Probably aided by the fact we have a very large German Shepherd in our yard. However, we have some friends here who have had repeated successful or attempted break-ins of their homes, things stolen off their wash-lines (that only happened once to us) and other wanton persecutions that make me at one time angry and heartsick for the salvation of this nation.

2. “Askims” – a pidgin word meaning someone asking for money or favors because they claim to have some kind relationship with you, but in reality it usually is someone who is being lazy or irresponsible and they want a quick buck from the “rich” white person.

3.  No vehicle – My four-wheeler has been out of commission since April because the parts have to come from overseas. Which means weeks of waiting only to discover that while that part was broken, there is another part or two that also needs to be replaced that you didn’t discover until the first part was replaced…) On the positive side all the walking is good for my health. And it will help me to even more grateful for my “wheels” when they are fixed. However, it makes me more reliant on other people and in general restricts my movements because I cannot always go somewhere walking that I could go if I was on or in a vehicle.

4.  Unpredictable and limited hours for all business activities: A regular schedule goes something like this: Monday – Wednesday and Fridays all departments (includes: store, hardware counter, post office are open 9-Noon and open again (mostly) 1-4 (except for those things like finance (where we get our cash) and the post office service window which are only open in the mornings) Thursdays they are open at 9:30 or whenever the department finishes devotions. Of course, if someone is retiring/leaving, there is staff meetings or trainings that need to be done we will usually be told the night before that it will open late or close early. Then there are the periodic stock-takes which close the department for a week or so. When on top of this, it takes my entire morning to accomplish three errands, I get a little graceless about the lack of time-awareness that is PNG culture. How I long for a place that is open when it is advertised to be open and is open on a weekend at all.

5. Having “things” (medical, vehicle, house issues, or trips or…) come up that we just don’t have the money for because we have never been funded to the point where we can save a whole lot (plus we have had partners end their regular support in the last few months) and we have to appeal for more. Sometimes it is just hard for me to not be a little wistful for the time when Evan was making enough we had savings and IF we needed some extra that month he could work a little overtime. Here he works overtime A LOT and our income is always the same…right on the edge between making it and not.

Those are some of the things that have contributed to the wrestling in my mind and heart over finishing well during the last few months. Now a conflict has arisen that is making the struggle even harder.

Two of the largest language groups in PNG are fighting and it doesn’t look like it is going to end anytime soon. All because of someone throwing stones at a passing PMV. This kind of idiocy is making me very frustrated and grief-stricken. Frustrated because it makes it even more difficult to function in the day-to-day. Grief-stricken because this lunacy shows the kind darkness that has this country gripped. It is why we are here of course, but where is the light at the end of the tunnel?

There has always been tribal tensions, fighting, killing (often in the form of “pay back killings” – meaning someone in your group has done something to someone in our group therefore we will find ANY person from your group and seek our revenge….). Laws of course have come into effect at different times in hopes of curbing this kind of stupid behavior. Because that is what it is, setting aside the morality of murdering another human being, going back and forth killing people (think Hatfields/McCoys or Capulet/Montague  on a country-wide scale) rather than resolving things in a sane and mature manner.

No, not every National does this. In fact there are plenty who deplore the mindset. We are friends with several who are among the most intelligent, Godly and amazing people we have EVER met. But, mob mentality and a few thousand years of tradition very often outweighs a calm, well-thought out response.

The common way to get around the country is in public transport vans or trucks known as PMVs. They run from all over and depending on how far you want to go, you pay accordingly. One such PMV was traveling from Mt. Hagen to Lae last week. On the way through Kainantu (our closest tiny town), they picked up a passenger. For reasons unknown, a drunk man threw some stones at the vehicle. The passengers from Mt Hagen then realized one of the passengers was from Kainantu, blamed him for the drunk man’s actions and proceeded to torture him until he died somewhere along the road to Lae. When they reached Lae they dumped the body at the morgue. Another passenger from Goroka stayed with the body and went through the dead man’s phone until he contacted a family member.

The shockwave that has followed these actions, riot and destruction in Kainantu, road blocks (they are stopping all passing PMVs and making people speak in their tok ples (the language of their tribal group to determine if they belong to one of the offending groups), burning of PMVs…

Since this feud involves the largest and seventh largest language groups in the country (out of approximately 800) it could go on for a very long time and result in many more deaths.

I wish for no more deaths, for cooler, more rational heads to prevail and for peace to come again to the valley. I love this country and its people and pray for peace and joy to reign. I wish to only have my “daily struggles” to bring before God.

For those who wish for it, below is a link to a news story about the above.

http://www.pngfacts.com/-news/pngs-highlands-highway-blocked

Bagame

Went to post and realized this never got posted for some reason. So quite late here it is...

So much has happened since I last blogged I have been advised the only way to tackle this is to just write snapshots if you will of various times that stand out as they come to mind regardless of time sequencing.

So…

A little background. Evan came to Papua New Guinea for the first time in 2004. He went through the Pacific Orientation Course in Madang as all new Wycliffe people do. But, since he was only with Wycliffe Associates are not required to do the full 14 week course, but only a 6 week course. However, Evan wanted to do the 14-week course, which he did. The full course includes a 5 week stay in a village in the area. This helps the participate to learn Melanesian pidgin (the trade language) and to gain a better understanding of the culture and people of Papua New Guinea. Over 80% of the population lives in villages. The village Evan was allocated to a place called Bagame. It is basically a village made up of members of one family and their spouses and children.

At that time one of the sons, Charlie, as single and close in age to Evan, so Evan lived with him. Through Evan’s willingness to work, participate, learn and laugh he became a part of their family. When he left after 5 weeks they held a traditional sing-sing to say goodbye.

A sing-sing is similar to a luau. There is a large feast, dancing, singing, story-telling…in short it is a great time. At this sing-sing Charlie wrote a song for Evan and they cried and said goodbye as if they would never see him again.

Evan stayed in PNG for another year and then returned to the US with the intention of returning as soon as possible. He then met me…fast-forward about 9 years.

We have returned as a family to Papua New Guinea. During our time in America Evan has talked about returning “home” and wanting to reconnect with all the people who loved him and he loved. Since I am new to the country we are going through the POC course again as a family. Evan is there primarily as a help to me, but learns a lot too. When it comes time for our village assignments we both talk about how neat it would be if we ended up being close to his old host family village (Bagame) so we could visit. We get assigned, drumroll….a village a mere 2 miles down the road from Bagame! One week before we go, Evan is in town gathering supplies, and runs into Charlie. He is able to tell him that he and his family are going to be in a near-by village next week and Charlie is so happy he says when we can to send a message to them that we are coming to visit and they will have a sing-sing for us.

So, the day we go to our village assignment, we stop at the last place before ours to drop off some other students. Waiting there is an older woman who turns out to Charlie’s mom (Evan’s wasmama) she see’s Evan and instantly recognizes him, despite it being almost 10 years  and Evan’s hair (both head and facial) being different and starts to cry. She hugs him tightly, and then when she is introduced to me she says “pikinini bilong mi!” (my child) and hugs me and kisses me. She then turns to the boys and calls them booboos (slang for grandchildren or grandparent). She takes Julien into her lap (he is asleep) and carries him the rest of the drive to our village. Hugging me the whole time too.

Fast forward a couple of weeks and we are planning to go to Bagame. However, plans change when I come down with Dengue fever and Julien becomes ill again (some of you know his saga of being ill while at POC) and it is decided the two of us must be taken out of the village to recoup. Evan and Liam go anyway, have a wonderful time but are asked to come again when I am back and well as they are disappointed I and Julien are not there. Evan and Liam are bilas-ed. (decorated). Liam gained the nickname “muscleman” because of his habit of walking as if he had large muscles emulating super-heros. They let him play the kundu drum and he danced like a madman making everyone laugh with joy.

When I returned about a week later, we went again. This time we were told it was a celebration for me, as it was the first time I visited.  

As we walked up the road the family came out and ushered us to the “front entrance” of the village where they had hung flowers and they sang and danced a welcoming song that Charlie had written.

Then after we had rested and eaten a little and drank kulaus (green coconuts) I was ceremonially painted and dressed in traditional costume. Charlie’s wife Joyce gave me a shirt that was hers so that I would always remember her. She had me take off my top and put it on which was interesting. She didn’t even blink with all the men standing around asking me to strip to my bra. Of course she was wearing nothing on top BUT her bra so I guess it’s all relative J.

Then she and other ladies there taught me some dances. Evan got video. I look pretty silly but we were laughing and having a great time. Joyce called me her sister and that I was to go back to America and tell them all about her, my “crazy PNG sister Joyce”. We were also given two bilums made from natural fibers and the grass skirt (purpur) that I wore, made especially for me by the mama. Also, Liam was given all the shell and boar’s teeth bilas he was wearing and the malu (men’s ceremonial loincloth) he was wearing. Then we had a feast.

Joyce, Charlie and their daughter walked us most of the way back to our village. When they turned back their daughter cried and cried for us.

Joyce and Charlie's daughter with Liam

Me and Joyce dancing, Charlie is in the background

And then when were being picked up to return to the training center wasmama, Joyce, Charlie and their daughter all came to say goodbye. Mama cried again and hugged us like she would never see us again. We have promised to return and visit when we can.