ukarumpa.

This is my first actual PNG blog, two weeks into the trip.

I’m sad about that, for I’ve had more amazing experiences in these last two weeks than I’ve had in the last year. But internet is hard to come by in this country: expensive and uncommon. And so the blog of my experience suffers.

But I’ve been writing a lot, barely able to keep up on my journaling for each new day. I try to take every spare moment to write down thoughts, events, quotes. Occasionally, life gets in the way, and people take preference over reclusive scribbling.

We’re in Ukarumpa, in the highlands. Ukarumpa has been called “Little America,” a better term maybe “Little Western Civilization” as there is a multitude of Western cultures represented here. It was a hard transition from a campus of black nationals who we got to know and love to a town of white expatriates who look and talk very much like we do. We don’t miss the heat and constant stickiness of Lae, but we do miss the friends we made in a few short days.

Lae seems a world away from where we are now. My Lae is Todd’s house that the entire team stayed in for six nights, sleeping on mats with the windows open. Hoping that the power didn’t go off during the heat of the day and take our cool ceiling fan air. Seeing little 6-year-old Mainu at our door, wanting chocolate and Stephen. The silent and cool mornings, with my teammates writing in their journals, reading their Bibles, closing their eyes to listen. The birds outside the windows at all hours of the day and night. Mama Jere in the kitchen, delighted to make us food and do our laundry. Waving and saying “Apinun” to each passerby. Having brown faces light up when you walk into the room, not because you’re white but because they know your name and they know you want to hear about their lives. The feeling of community. And stories.

Ukarumpa is different. The entire team is staying in the homes of host families, so we’re separated most of the day until we have to perform. I feel secure with my teammates; without them, I feel vaguely off-kilter. And the entire town is so different, so..comfortable. So not Lae. But we have been welcomed here too. Our families have accepted us into their households with smiles and joy. We walk up and down the hills in the cool air, not feeling wet at every moment. I even wore pants this morning under my dress (it’s 4:08 PM here). The birds are different, the trees are different. Life is different here. We’re working mostly with Europeans, or at least English-speakers. But they need to express their stories just like the New Guineans do. Ukarumpa has been a challenge to our expectations and preconceived notions.

God has been surprising us every step of the way, from Emily being able to communicate with two deaf New Guinean teens, to an amazing youth worship service last night where we jumped and dance and laughed.

We went to the market this morning, and got some amazing gifts for ourselves and others. But as I was walking around, each thing I saw triggered a memory. I realized that nothing I bring home will ever do justice to this beautiful country. My faulty memory won’t even be enough. Which is why I will write.

I’m not thinking about what I’m going to write yet. I just want to live each moment purely and truly.

Please keep praying. There’s been talk of some unrest in Goroka and Lae, perhaps just as a result from fortnight last Friday, payday and a night of major alcohol consumption. Pray for safety as we travel to Goroka on Wednesday; also pray for strength and willingness, as we enter a cultural experience unlike any we’ve had yet. I’m sure I’ll have much to write about from there. Also, pray for health for our poor tummies. Everyone has been having some digestive issues lately, and it’s not helping our energy level.

And pray for us as we go, that God goes ahead of us and prepares amazing people for us to meet and talk to.

Love from all of us here in PNG: Sara, Jessie, Stephen, Nicole, Cyndi, Whitney, Emily, Karith, Jordan, Jere, Todd, and Rhett. We are safe, we are well, and we are changed.