Village visit

In our last newsletter we mentioned that we hoped to visit the village where we lived for five weeks during our PNG orientation course. We were able to make that visit! The day before we planned to go, we were at the market in Madang, a large though rather shoddy looking town on the northern coast of PNG. We knew that PMVs (Public Motor Vehicles - privately owned vehicles used for public transportation, which can be anything from a van to a bus to a truck with a makeshift roof over the bed) went from Madang to the road near Bom, the village where we lived. We walked toward the place where the PMV parked and asked someone standing there if any PMV's went to Bom. Suddenly a man we didn't recognize jumped up in the back of the PMV and said excitedly, "John! John! Ahh, hello!" It had been two solid years since we left Bom, but obviously we hadn't been forgotten! The man promised to tell our village papa that we were planning to come the next day.

The next morning we started walking down the mountain where we were staying toward the main road into Madang. Fortunately we caught a ride down the hill, and then quickly found a PMV headed into Madang. Once in Madang we climbed on the PMV that would take us to Bom. We started out of town and drove for what seemed like forever. Just as John and I were beginning to wonder if we really were on the right PMV, it turned onto a familiar dirt road. After a bit, we saw a familiar face walking along the side of the road and hollered for the driver to stop. One man began clanking on a metal bar with a coin to signal the driver in the cab, and the vehicle stopped several yards ahead of the man. The short figure came hustling toward the PMV and quickly climbed with great excitement - it was our village papa, and sure enough the man we'd met the day before had informed him of our plans to visit.

He was of course thrilled to see his "kids", and I marveled at how short he really was. Somehow the part he played in our lives made me think I should look up to him, but no, I actually had to look down to look him in the eye! Bom (yes, our village papa has the same name as the village itself) was of course especially enamored with Tikvah. He pushed his rough and stubble-covered face right into hers, and she stared back rather calmly but with wide eyes. We didn't chat much as we rode along, due to the noise of the vehicle, but soon it stopped and we disembarked for the walk to our former village home.

We approached the river which runs directly through the road to Bom. There is no bridge, though our village papa still talked about some company's plans to make one someday upriver. It was the drier season when we had lived in Bom, and fording the river had never been an issue, so I didn't feel too concerned. But as we stepped into the river, John holding Tikvah on his shoulder and me holding the hand of a sturdy young man for support, my lack of concern quickly became a torrent of fear. The river was incredibly strong! How these men shorter than me were so adept at keeping their balance I have yet to understand. The water in the deepest part was close to my chest and I was soon grasping tightly to the young man's hand as my feet were nearly swept from under me. I wasn't too afraid for myself - I knew I could float if I got carried away. But my eyes anxiously focused on John as I hoped and prayed that his feet were steadier than mine. Thankfully, they were, and he and Tikvah stepped on the opposite shore without a worry.

Once we were through the river, the rest of the walk was much less eventful. Our village papa had decided it was his turn to carry Tikvah, so he snatched up the Ergo baby carrier I had been wearing and fastened the waist belt around himself. I helped him get Tikvah situated, and we started off. I had to laugh to myself, wondering if an Ergo carrier had ever been worn by a bush-dwelling Papua New Guinean grandpa before. Tikvah once again was a trooper, and didn't seem to mind being whisked away by this strange man. After we walked for a bit, she did give a slight whimper, which was all it took for Bom to hand her back to me. I'm sure he enjoyed his grandpa time, though!

Through the bush we wandered, following a well worn but thin trail through coconut trees, cocoa trees, and other myriad types of vegetation whose leaves grow to 'prehistoric' proportions. Finally we came into the clearing on the beach where our village was situated. We walked over to our village papa's house, greeted with shouts of excitement from his always exuberant daughter. A few things had changed - a new platform had been built, a house finished, the outdoor kitchen slightly renovated, but for the most part it was life as usual as we had known it. Even our village papa's dad, who had seemed too old and thin to be alive two years ago, was still there to greet us, though we wondered if he could see us at all through his cataracts.

And then, we sat. We talked with various people who came to see the spectacle, we explained a bit about what had transpired since we left, and of course introduced Tikvah to everyone. She was hesitant at first, but before long came to herself and waltzed around, chasing dogs and chickens, lying in the sand, and eating the bananas and cucumbers that were offered her. We took her to down to the water for a few minutes, and let her play in the waves, but they were particularly strong and one wave threatened to pry her from my hands when I wasn't paying enough attention. Tikvah was drenched in salt water, but happy as a lark! I quickly decided that we'd stick to the higher ground.

We stayed there for a few hours, and ate our honorary meal of pumpkin, potato, and some other kind of potato with a few greens all boiled in coconut milk. It isn't bad food, and John seems to like it ok, but I never could get used to the monotony of eating so much starch day after day. Our village family had hoped we would spend the night and put a mattress in "our" house for us to use. We however felt it was wise to get back across the river while we knew we still could, and didn't relish the thought of sleeping without even a mosquito net to aid us. So we soon bid farewell, and began the journey back to the road where we could again catch a PMV into town.

My only regret in leaving so soon was that we hadn't had a chance to see our village sister, Awaio. She had been maybe 12 or 13 when we were there before, and was my little companion in most endeavors. Around other children she seemed a bit bossy and forceful, but with me she was ever kind and helpful. She was a busy girl, and often told me she would do my dishes or my laundry if I would just ask. And of course she would quickly take over when my feeble attempts at fire-building were too much for her to bear. I was curious to see her again and see how she had grown over the last two years. I wondered what kind of a young woman she would be today. I didn't have a chance to find out, except that I deduced she must still be a busy, hard worker. Our papa told us that Awaio had expected we would stay the night, and so had gone out to dig peanuts that day. I felt sad, and asked our papa a few times to make sure and tell her I was sad that I didn't see her.

We retraced our steps back through the forest, back to the dreaded river, but once again we crossed without incident. After a relatively short wait at the PMV stop, we boarded another vehicle and were soon bumping our way toward town. We waved goodby to our village papa, knowing full well that we may never see him again. But no matter, we will always be his kids in his mind, and he'll be able to talk about his little grandaughter's visit for years to come whenever other stories around the night fire grow dull.

It was dark before we finally made it up the long hill to the place where we were staying. I was so exhausted that John ended up carrying Tikvah and our backpacks for the last portion of the hike. Even then I struggled a bit to keep up with his pace. The house where we were staying was nice, though not as much so as our house in Ukarumpa. But this night, it may as well have been a castle. We were very thankful to see beds and mosquito nets and to have a cool shower before going to bed. Whew! It had been a day, for sure!