Papua New Guinea DTS Outreach 2010-11

Preparation

Christmas in Townsville was quite the event. ‘Busy’ is the word that best describes this holiday season for us, Christmas day was no exception. We awoke and dove excitedly into our bulging stockings and presents. Lots of lollies (Aussie for candy), knick knacks, and fun things were enjoyed by all. Next came a light breakfast and some playtime. Then, we headed over to the YWAM base for a wonderful time of fellowship and feasting. It was great fun even the downpours of rain and loud thunder couldn’t dampen our spirits. With our tummies full we headed back home to clean up the house for an evening of fellowship with friends from church. They arrived right on time and thankfully, we were just about finished. We had a mellow evening full of stories and good food with there departure signaling time for all of us to finally retire for the night, what a relief! A full day for sure and though our hearts longed to be with family and friends back in the States during this holiday, God filled it with lots of love and celebration. For that we’re very thankful.

Sunday was recovery and family day while Monday was absolute pandemonium. We were planning on leaving early (4am) Tuesday on a tour bus up to Cairns. Then, we were to fly out to the PNG capital city of Port Moresby by noon. So everything had to be ready by Monday, it was crunch time. One interesting aspect of this whole plan was the weather. As many of you know Queensland has been hit hard by rain over the last few weeks resulting in horrible devastation for thousands of people and a few tragic deaths. When Christmas weekend arrived we watched the weather with great concern as the highway to Cairns was blocked in many locations and was looking to be impassable if things didn’t change soon. We set about praying for God to intervene. Sunday didn’t look good but by Monday things were looking considerably better. I had a gander at the satellite images for Monday and noted that surprisingly (or maybe not so surprisingly) the drenching storm clouds had parted over the highway with a large system over the mountains to the west and another system over the ocean to the east! This allowed the blocked areas to dry up making a clear path for us on Tuesday…No worries, we were going for sure!

DAY 1

Transportation:

Ryan and I awoke groggily early Tuesday and met our large group of 50+ students and staff (IPHC included) at the base and loaded quickly on the brand new bus to make our way up to Cairns. The weather was clear and not an issue and we made good time to the airport arriving after about five and half hours. It was a really beautiful drive though I wish I could have slept a little more through it. We watched acres of sugar cane and banana fields pass by with the ocean periodically in view on the right and many rolling and steep jungle covered hills on the left. We passed through historic Ingham and costal Cardwell, definitely places to revisit another day with the family. I haven’t been on a trip like this for quite a while so I had mixed feelings about going, mostly apprehension due to leaving the family and some fear of entering an unknown culture and developing country with much poverty and corruption. God had been speaking to me quite a lot through His word regarding fear and I was encouraged, but some fear still lingered. We reached the airport on time and without any problem. After everyone unloaded and all the gear was gathered and accounted for, we waved goodbye to our driver and filed into the lobby. After some effort our paperwork was checked and tickets issued and we were ready to make our way onto the plane. By now everyone was a-buzz with anticipation and the reality that we were about to step foot on Papua New Guinea (PNG) soil. All the prayer and preparations that had been going on for months previous were about to come into effect. The flight on the aging Air Niugini plane was fairly easy and without event, a few bumps and some interesting food came our way and in about an hour and half we had touched town in hot and humid Port Moresby International Airport. Our trip through customs was smooth and a quick stop at the money changing window finally delivered us to the lobby of the airport where we were to meet our contacts. After that we were to split into four groups and then go our separate ways into the unfamiliar and unknown. Our smallest team was to join with the IPHC school and head to Daru in the Western Province, while two other teams were to be heading north to the villages around Kerema (about 6 hours away from Port Moresby). Our team was to stay around the city and visit various villages selected by our local guide Pastor Hukopu.

Once we said our goodbyes to the rest of the teams, we met a man who’d been sent to guide us to our first village, Hisiu about two hours north and west of Port Moresby. His name was Philip and he in-turn introduced us to a friend of his, a short stocky man with a very warm personality and smile, he introduced himself as, “Eksee”. I found out in our brief conversation that he was one of the chief financial officers of the police headquarters in the city. This really excited me as we had been praying for weeks previous about the trip and God’s direction for us in ministering in the country. One impression Cameron received from the Lord was of a government building of some sort. I also felt a need to minister to the police by meeting some possibly at a police station to pray for them. Next, two other spheres or areas came to mind. I saw a mental picture of us ministering to people in a hospital room with a ceiling fan spinning and white walls and curtains surrounding a patient as a group of us played music and prayed. Finally, we felt an impression that we’d be contacting and praying for those in education of some sort. This partly came from the hope that YWAM Townsville has to bring Aussie students to PNG for short term missions in the near future. The program is called, Mission Adventures and will include visits to villages like Hisiu and to various schools to reach out to PNG teenagers with Aussie teenagers. Aside from this program we felt God would connect us with the sphere of education in someway. So right off the jet we met our first answer to prayer, this man Eksee, who would turn out to be a significant contact and very helpful friend.

After the introductions, we walked our way up to the carpark to meet our transportation. We had watched the other teams load into nice Toyota Hiace vans and I thought for a moment that we too might be riding in luxury but I was wrong. Our transportation turned out to be a classic PNG method of transport called a Public Motor Vehicle (PMV). A flatbed truck with dually tires in the back and bench seats lining the sides of the bed. Enough room for three in the front cab and probably 20-25 comfortably in the bed with luggage. Our vehicle already had three in the front, the driver, his wife, and their grandson of 5 years of age, named Ronaldo after the famous soccer player. Into this warm family’s embrace I was invited since the rest of our group was required to cram their way into an already fairly packed passenger compartment along with all of our luggage. In all there must have been close to 35 people sitting wherever they could in the back of that truck with Ronaldo on my lap and his rather large grandparents up front in the cab. It may have been a bit awkward for us but it was business as usual for them. We drove out of the Airport carpark and into the city to shop for supplies for our stay in Hisiu and I realized immediately that I was very much a minority in this country. Everywhere I looked my eyes were met with curious dark skinned men, women, and children who would cry out with excitement, “White man! White man!” I began to wish that my freckles would all connect so I could have a little darker complexion. After the grocery store we drove back past the airport and north up the Hubert Murray Highway to our village. It had begun to rain as it does in the tropics during the rainy season and in no time the dusty road and busy roadside markets packed with people all became awash with mud, trash, and a thick humid mist of diesel exhaust fumes. In a couple of kilometers we were stopped by our first police checkpoint. I was told that due to the holidays, the police were out in force checking cars for inebriated drivers and those who were operating their vehicles without proper permits and documentation. As soon as they saw that we had foreigners in the PMV we were waved aside and questioned. I concluded the conversation must have been in pigeon since it was clearly not English but I still could get the just of what was being said, I’m glad that there are a couple of common languages used in this nation which contains over 800 different languages and dialects. The police asked who we were and the driver cheerfully said we were not tourists but missionaries come to serve the Lord. The discussion didn’t last too long and we were soon on our way again. I was stoked but pretty cautious still since in my past experiences in Mexico and Central America, when a policia pulls you over, it means money up-front and now. I was ready for the same treatment but was relieved to see that we were waved on and could continue unhindered. The second police check was a little different. The same conversation took place between Ronaldo’s happy smiling Grandpa and the second stern-looking police officer but this time he wasn’t having any of it, he wanted cash. Grandma entered the conversation with an attitude and I prayed hard thinking we were going downtown for sure. But after a few Kina were handed over we were on our way and again I breathed a sigh of relief and prayed a quick prayer of thanksgiving.

Some kilometers flew by as we made our way through the rain soaked jungles and sometimes windy road. It was evident that the rain could create some hazards on the road as we had to dodge water filled potholes and storm debris but when we approached a part of the road that was covered in water, I knew things were getting a little more serious. It turns out that a culvert had become clogged with logs and limbs and the water was being diverted across the road making an ever increasing pond that was threatening to become a lake. Our driver proceeded with caution and sent some of his young relatives from the back up ahead to check the depth and swiftness of the current. We went as far as we could but without a snorkel attachment on his exhaust we had to stop. “No problem” Grandpa said, as he jumped out of the cab and proceeded to fasten a plastic bag on the exhaust pipe and make some other modifications to the vehicle. “Push!” was the next command so most of the guys in the PMV jumped out and began pushing the heavy beast through the water toward safety. The current was pretty strong rushing perpendicular to the truck hitting the right side and its depth went from ankle deep to just over the knee at its worst but with all of the man power behind it, the truck soon reached the other side and we were soon on our way. This scenario repeated itself a number of times with the worst being the last time. Again, logs and limbs blocked a culvert causing excess rainwater to be forced in the wrong direction resulting in a whole village being flooded and many vehicles being stopped in a line waiting for the water to recede. We too waited for a while but Grandpa concluded that we could make it across if we did it quickly before the water rose any further. So we began to push, probably 8-10 guys. This time the water was much swifter and the depth greater, as much as up to our thighs. As we moved our way forward the torrent on either side of the road became increasingly dangerous and one of the local guys warned me to stay away from the right side of the truck as the water could force me under the truck and down river. An interesting thing happened as we pushed, something completely unexpected. As we heaved the heavy truck against an even stronger current, the truck began to speed up. In fact, the road even began to rise and go uphill slightly which should have made it much more difficult to proceed but the opposite occurred. The truck continued easily through the water and even began to take off to where we had to jog to keep up with it. Grandpa, not being a Believer, exclaimed that it was a flat out miracle. Angels pushing the PMV I reckon. We made it to Hisiu around 8 pm while the other PMVs who were just behind us having the same destination, but stopped at the road washouts didn’t arrive until after midnight. Our two hour trip ended up taking over six hours to complete making our total travel time from Townsville to Hisiu somewhere close to fifteen hours. We were all pretty exhausted by the time we arrived and after a short introduction with our hosts and some food, we collapsed into our sleeping bags and enjoyed a good night’s sleep.