My Life in A Box

One of the most challenging/frustrating/aggravating aspects of moving around internationally is figuring out what to do with all of your stuff. (Those of you who follow this blog may remember this as the topic of one of my first blog entries when I moved from Costa Rica to Alexandria). You fret and fuss over what stuff you absolutely must have, what stuff you’d like to have, and what stuff you can live without, moving stuff from one category to another based on weight restrictions, cost considerations and ultimately time constraints. Then, once you have made the final cut, and the boxes are all wrapped and taped, the movers whisk everything away. At that point, there is nothing more to do until your stuff arrives at your new destination, hopefully complete and unscathed.

Of course, now that I am in Papua New Guinea, I should probably stop calling it “my stuff” and start calling it “my cargo” in deference to the “cargo cults” that exist in the highlands of this country. During World War II, this island, along with most in the South Pacific, was used by the Allies as a staging ground for all of those epic air and sea battles against the Japanese. As a result, the indigenous people of Papua New Guinea were exposed to modern technology, many for the first time. They saw vast quantities of war supplies arriving daily by airplanes, which to them clearly demonstrated the magical, supernatural powers of these foreign people. But they also assumed that these strangers were stealing the cargo that the ancestral gods must have meant for the New Guineans! So, in a cross between the stranded children of Mad MaxBeyond Thunderdome and the Kalahari Bushmen of The Gods Must Be Crazy, the natives dropped their work, and with near-religious fervor, created mock airplanes out of reeds, makeshift landing strips, imaginary offices and loading docks in the jungle, and waited patiently, praying for the proverbial manna from heaven to be delivered to their doorsteps.

I, too, am waiting for my cargo to magically appear, and while I know more than the cargo cult followers about the origins of my goods, I am just as perplexed at how and why we managed to accumulate so much of it. On a macro level, this question was at heart of Jared Diamond’s book Guns Germs and Steel where he hypothesized how certain civilizations managed to get a jump start on all the other tribes of the world and thereby become the “haves” rather than the “have-nots”. The genesis of his book came from a question posed to Diamond by a native New Guinean who asked why white men had so much “cargo” and New Guineans had so little. Unfortunately, while Diamond’s subsequent theories on geographic luck, development of steel technology and the spread of deadly small pox by Westerners go a long way to explain economic disparity, they do little in alleviating it, leaving many New Guineans with the nut of the question unopened.

The cargo cults that developed during the war to try to tap into the seemingly endless Western bounty still exist today, at least in some parts of PNG. Some believe that it was this underlying belief in magic as a factor in the distribution of wealth that led to a recent case of a well-off tribal woman being beheaded by her neighbors. They believed she practiced witchcraft—and why wouldn’t they? How else would she be able to afford schooling for her children and a house with permanent walls?

My own cargo accumulation process is much less magical, although it does include numerous deliveries from my husband’s and my ancestors. With each of our international moves, I have tried to be a little more brutal in culling out unwanted/unneeded junk and paring down to just the basic essentials-- which is easier said than done. I won’t know how well we managed to do that until the boxes arrive. The uncertainty of what we are actually going to get is compounded by the fact that the shipment due to show up here in PNG by early August was, for the most part, packed away in June 2010 in Costa Rica! Further complicating matters, we had everything staged out of our DC storage unit which comingled the Costa Rican shipment with items that have been in storage since we moved to Peru in 2003! We didn’t open most boxes before deciding whether to send them onward to PNG or back to Dante’s ring of hell reserved for hoarders, so I am not sure of what is on its way and what we may have misdirected. But I am certain that it will be way too much cargo, and, like the coke bottle dropped from the sky onto the Kalahari plain, I will be looking for a way to get rid of some of it. I suspect there are many people here who would see my excess cargo as a gift from the gods… but hopefully not many who would attribute it to the mark of a witch.

The Good, The Bad and The Rugby

Only three weeks into this adventure and I already have a running list of things to write about.  Even though I am still living in a hotel and have limited mobility (no car, security concerns), I have been able to see a little bit of Port Moresby and to learn more about what this part of the world has to offer.  As with anything, it is a mixed bag, but for what it is worth, I think there will be enough here to keep me happy and engaged for some time.  So here is the breakout so far, and so as not to cause alarm, I will start with:

 

The Good

 

Community Theatre

It will come as no surprise to most of you that at the top of the “good” category is my discovery of, and recent contact with, the Moresby Arts Theatre.  From the day I saw my first live theatrical production (an early 1970’s high school production of Man of LaMancha) I was hooked and have been involved in the world of theater in some manner or another ever since.  It was my immersion in the Little Theatre Group of Costa Rica that kept me sane (a relative term) and happy in San Jose and introduced me to some of my dearest Costa Rican friends.  So I was thrilled to learn that there is a group here that appears to be as active and needy of volunteers as LTG!  And my timing is great…they are just about to launch a production of Twelfth Night, and are holding a pre-production meeting this weekend, with auditions to follow.  I am pretty sure I am too long in the tooth now to play Olivia or Viola, but that crafty, witty, meddling Maria wouldn’t be too much of a stretch!  There is also a choral group that is active here, so I should be able to get my arts game on in the near future.

Teaching Options

Also on the positive side of the ledger, I have had interviews with two international schools.  The principals of both The Ela Murray International School (TEMIS) and Port Moresby International School (POMIS) spent time with me last week and showed me around their respective schools.  TEMIS is a PreK-8 school, with a large expat community and a surprisingly large and well funded campus.  POMIS has students from 7-12 grade, is at least 80% local students and is primarily funded by fees from the small number of students who are college-bound and in the IB program, which, in contrast to TEMIS, means their school has fewer resources available.  I liked both principals, believe they liked me, and have positive impressions of both sets of students.  However, I am not sure either school will be able to hire me, not only because they may not have a suitable job opening, but more because it is insanely difficult to get a work visa.  In order to convert my current dependant visa, I would first have to be offered a contract, and then leave the country for anywhere from 3-5 weeks, possibly longer.  The cost associated with leaving (anyone checked the cost of a round-trip flight to PNG yet?) and staying for an elongated stay somewhere may prove too burdensome.  I have not closed this as an option yet, and remain hopeful that I can do what I love to do, but this topic may ultimately move to the “bad” category before too long.

Food Options

There are a couple of very well stocked grocery stores, with just about any product you would want to buy and with the added bonus of carrying a wide-range of Asian products.  For those of you in the DC area, it is almost like combining a small Safeway or Giant store with Eden Center or one of the large Chinese grocery stores!  And while the prices for US/European goods is extremely high, the Asian products are cheap…oh wait, that is how it is all over the world!  No wonder the US is making its “Pivot to Aisa” policy so prominent! 

 Peace and Quiet

Drivers do not honk their horns, play loud music, drive two-stroke engine motorcycles, and they seem to all have working mufflers.   I know this means something to those of you who lived in Mexico, Peru, Costa Rica, and, especially Egypt!  Perhaps it is part of the culture.  From my experience thus far, many Papua New Guineans are relatively soft spoken and non-confrontational, so honking the horn is just not something you would do lightly. On top of that, I have yet to hear a rooster crow, a pack of dogs bark,  or a mullah call the faithful to prayer.   It is a striking contrast to the noise chaos of Alexandria, Egypt! 

 So now on to the darker side of paradise:

 The Bad

 Security (or lack thereof)

One of the primary concerns voiced by anyone and everyone who has been in Papua New Guinea for any length of time is that of personal and property security.  I am always hesitant to buy into a mindset that lives in fear, but constant vigilance does seem to be required here.  And it is not just the anecdotal wariness—we have unfortunately learned firsthand how critical security is here as Steph’s office was broken into last week and several computers stolen.  No doubt, it was an “inside job” with a very iffy story of being overcome and tied up raskols (the local hoodlum moniker) with machetes related by the hired security guard, but that makes it even more disconcerting.  If you don’t know who you can trust to guard your home or office, how do you know if you are safe?  Luckily it was just “stuff” that was taken and no one was hurt, but it still gives one pause.  So we will be looking for a secure apartment for us and stay alert when out and about, and hope for the best. 

What You Can Get For Your Kina

I know I alluded to this when I bemoaned the cost of a bottle of wine, but it is increasingly clear that this is going to be one expensive place to live.  The exchange rate of kina (originally a large white shell traded on the coast, now a plastic coated paper currency) to dollar is approximately 2:1, so luckily for me the mental math is easy to calculate, but I am still staggering when I come up with the dollar equivalent.   Ten bucks for a box of bran flakes?!  Eleven thousand dollars a month for an apartment?!  Seriously?!  Even basic foodstuffs like milk, eggs and vegetables are at least a third higher priced than in the US.  I know that the cost of living allowances for most expats takes this into account, and, as a westerner, I am likely to opt for higher end goods, but it goes a long way toward understanding the source of the security issues.  With no clear secondary or black market (at least that I am aware of) that would allow locals to make more reasonably priced purchases, and local jobs that pay nowhere near the expat salaries,  it is no wonder that the raskol culture has taken hold. 

OK, that is not too bad…four good things and only two bad ones.  Not a bad ratio.  So now one more category to go:

The Rugby

 

 

 

Blue v. Maroon

 OK, well this isn’t really a whole category, but I guess that I was surprised to learn that the sports teams that seem to generate the most enthusiasm here in PNG play in the Australian rugby league.  It is not a game that I know much about, kind of like cricket, but in my limited understanding and exposure to the sport, I know that it is a tough, aggressive, non-stop, hands-on kind of sport that is usually played by big, burly men (or sometimes big, burly women) wearing tight shorts.  But as with sports fans everywhere, the crowds are polarized for or against “their” teams—this week it was those supporting either the New South Wales “Blues” or the Queensland “Maroons” who scrummed and sweated and gutted it out on Thursday night in the State of Origin tournament.  I have added a picture of one fan who was triumphantly going Friday morning in full battle regalia to see his boss and collect on a two hundred kina bet!  Lucky for him the currency was changed from shells or he would be struggling to carry it home-- I just wish he could buy more with it.

 

 

Welcome to Paradise! Check Your Betelnut at the Door.

For those of you who followed this blog during my time in Alexandria, Egypt, you may have noticed (or, perhaps not) the rather extensive hiatus I have taken from adding to this site.  It was not due to my usual excuse of writer’s block or to being too busy and dynamic to take time to organize my thoughts.  It was primarily because we moved back to Washington, DC and I really didn’t have anything interesting to add to the constant media barrage coming from our nation’s capital during an election cycle.  Well, perhaps I did, but it was never anything that I thought worth writing about or sharing with a wider audience.  Besides, the idea here is to capture some of the flavor of living as an expat in an exotic location, and, as bizarre as it sometimes is to live in the United States (especially after living away for a number of years), it just didn’t seem like a compelling thing to do. 

 

Now, however, it looks as if I will have enough grist for the mill to last a long while!  Last Friday, after what seemed to be an excruciatingly long wait, we landed in Port Moresby, Papua New Guinea to begin a three to five year posting, again with USAID.  Truth be told, what I knew about PNG prior to moving here came from 1) having advised Egyptian high school students as they represented PNG in a Model United Nations simulation at the Hague, which in itself made me realize that PNG is a very small, extremely impoverished country since our high school never represented any of the larger, well-heeled nations; 2) Jarod Diamond’s book Guns, Germs, and Steel where he postulates that the Highland natives of PNG are still living as hunter-gatherers because of really crappy “geographic luck”; and 3) a visit to the National Geographic’s recent exhibition on PNG’s flamboyant (and as a national symbol, ubiquitous) Birds of Paradise.  All of these sources provided facts, images and theories that are helpful in understanding the poverty, culture, history and fauna of PNG from an academic perspective but gave me little insight on the more mundane things that now occupy my world.  What’s the daily weather like?  Where is the best place to live in Port Moresby?  Is it safe to walk in the streets?  What kind of food can you buy in the grocery store?  Are the people friendly?  Can I ever manage to learn to drive a right-hand drive vehicle?  Will the international school hire me?  What can you buy with a ten kina bill? 

 

So I sit here in the Grand Papua Hotel while I wait for a realtor to call back to schedule a trip to look at apartments and wonder what we have gotten ourselves into.  While I wait, I note a couple of early observations based on two shopping excursions and several days of hotel living: 

 

·         The Gulf of Papua and the Coral Sea are spectacularly beautiful.  While the view is somewhat marred by the harbor full of cargo ships and industrial vessels, by looking beyond them it is easy to see why people fall in love with this area of the world.  Just before a morning fog lifted a few days ago, I caught myself humming “Bali Hai” and half expected to see Emile LaBec’s plantation house appear on the mountains surrounding the bay. 

·         Port Moresby is a city designed for men, both locals and expats.  My support for this statement is thin, I’ll admit, but I think it may bear up over time.  The hotel is predominantly populated by men, mostly Australian men, presumably here for the mining and extractive industries.  Apparently, many expat men live here, but their wives and families live in Cairns, Australia, which is a short plane ride away. The local women who work here are unusually soft-spoken and lacking in confidence.  But most telling in my mind:  the biggest shopping mall in the city has multiple electronics stores, restaurants, and sports equipment shops, but no shoe stores.  

·         Living expenses will be high/quality and speed of service low.  From an initial look, both groceries and alcohol are expensive.  I expected as much for imports from the US and Europe, but thought that, at the very least, Australian Yellow Tail wine (the stuff they sell for $5 a bottle in the Safeway) would be cheap.  Not so at $15 bottle .  Not unexpectedly, the service from sales staff, even in this high end hotel, is fairly insipid.  The people are nice enough, but slow and inattentive.  Not a huge problem, but as the workers at Steph’s office have been “fixing” the AC for three days and the realtor who promised to get back to me yesterday still has not called, I am setting my expectations low.

·         Spontaneity will be limited by security concerns.  It is hard to know how concerned to be, but it is clear that this is not a place where I will be able to just walk out the door of my house, jump in my own car, and drive myself anywhere.  The haves and the have-nots are visibly delineated, more so here than in any other country I have lived in.  As a Westerner, even if I am dressed modestly, sans jewelry and purse, I am still a potential source of consumer goods and/or target for pent-up frustrations.  So I will likely have to find a driver and plan my travel accordingly.

·         There are opportunities and things to do here.  All the above being said, this is not the barren wasteland that some led me to believe awaited my arrival.  There is a tennis and sporting club, a yacht club, swimming pools and reportedly some of the best diving in the world.  I have an interview on Friday with the principal of the Ela Murray International School and I have an apartment to find.  Oh yes, and I have this blog to write.  Just not with the aid of buai (betelnut) at least as long as I am in this hotel!

 

Reply Hazy--Try Again

Hmmm…. February again. Last year at this time I was sitting in Washington, DC, wondering what would happen in Egypt, whether I would be able to return, how bad things would get. As it turned out, of course, I was back in Alexandria and on the job before the month was out. Everything seemed to be back to normal. That was until Alex was evacuated from Tokyo as a result of the earthquake. Then Steph was sent to London to find out why his heart wouldn’t stop palpitating. By the end of 2011, less and less seemed clear, not only on the Egyptian political scene, but also on a personal level. As I began this new year, the number of questions that I had with no clear answers seemed to be overwhelming, unmanageable and flat out depressing…until I remembered the most tried and true method of predicting the future…the Magic 8 Ball!

Now, I don’t know how many of you have ever actually owned one of these handy prognosticators, but those of you who have understand the awesome power of that black orb with its oracle-like window and multisided die floating within bluish fluid. How did I know that my middle school crush liked me (It is decidedly so) or that I would grow up to be a rich lawyer (Without a doubt)? Just shake the Magic 8 Ball, flip it over and wait for the answer to appear! Whether you wanted to know if you would have seven children (Don’t count on it) or whether you should stay mad at your best friend for another day (My reply is no) the Magic 8 Ball was there to guide you. So why didn’t I think of this before? I just needed to pick up my Magic 8 Ball to predict my future—

Will Steph leave Afghanistan for a new job this spring? (You may rely on it).

After over two years in Maymenah and having seen more than his share of action, he is overdue to leave and find a more peaceful and less stressful career. Not that he hasn’t had some real satisfaction from taking this challenging position, but enough is enough. He is now beginning to crank up his contacts and look into the opportunities for 2012 and beyond. Will his new job be in London, Paris, Florence, Athens, Istanbul or another fabulous European city? (Outlook not so good). Will it have a decent international school for me to teach in? (Cannot predict now). Will it be less developed than our past postings? (Better not tell you now). Will we be back living happily together no matter where it is? (You may rely on it)!

Will Alex graduate from Temple University Japan in May? (Signs point to yes).

While things can always happen to derail academic performance, Alex is well on track to graduate from college this year. As I am sure you all remember, that is both exhilarating and frightening at the same time. He is hoping to stay in Japan a little while longer, with JET or another English teaching program. Will he be gainfully employed in June? (Ask again later). Will we all be proud of him in achieving his goal of graduating from university in Japan? (It is certain).

Is there an internship in a Portuguese speaking country for a sophomore international relations major? (Most likely)

Adrie, of course, is actively pursuing this question without waiting for some stupid parlor game to give her the answer! Her time at the University of Edinburgh has been well spent, but she is impatient to get a “real job”—one that does not involve serving food or pints to tourists and preferably one that does not require her to be nice to large groups of children. Will she find a decent summer job? (As I see it, yes). Will it actually be a paid position? (Don't count on it). Will she keep at it until she finds the ideal job? (Yes – definitely)

Of course, the real imponderables come to me as I finish out my time here in Egypt. It is not so much the issue of where I will be going (see answers to question 1 above), but of where this country I am leaving behind is headed.

Will the Egyptian government take steps toward creating a free and fair democratic society? (Cannot predict now).

With the initial elections over at the end of December, and with no real protests or riots ensuing, it seemed that the revolution last January was finally having some measure of success. Yet, in recent weeks, it is clear that the undercurrent of distrust in the military, the failure to provide any significant economic relief and a growing concern with the potential power of the conservative parties leaves the country without a clear path towards democracy. Will the Muslim Brotherhood and Salafists take the nation down a path of greater societal restrictions? (Concentrate and ask again). Will the relationship with the United States be as friendly as it was during the Mubarak regime? (Outlook not so good). Will the Egyptian people continue to work to defining and redefining the goals of the revolution? (Yes).

Whew…I am feeling much better now that my most important questions have been answered by the source of all wisdom, the all-knowing, all seeing Magic 8 Ball. Will all of these things turn out as predicted? (Very doubtful). Will 2012 turn out to be another exciting, interesting, challenging and unpredictable year for the Smith clan? (Outlook good). O.K, I can’t resist one last burning question….Was there really a shooter on the grassy knoll? (Reply hazy, try again)

You Say You Want A Revolution?

I don’t think that it is a real surprise to anyone here on the ground in Egypt to see that things are heating up here again as we approach the day slated for parliamentary elections and the Arab Spring becomes Arab Summer. For anyone whose head has not been firmly planted in the sand, it has been clear for some time that not much has changed in the governance of Egypt except for the disappearance of Hosni Mubarak at the helm. The military still has its grip on the government, the police are still at odds with the populace (and are themselves protesting against low pay and poor work environments), the people have not seen improvement in any of the dismal conditions in which they have lived for the past several decades, nor has any clear leader emerged to guide the country into a new era. In many ways, Egypt has changed partners but is dancing to the same tired tune.

So the current round of protests in Tahrir Square in Cairo, and in the neighborhoods of Smouha and Sidi Gaber here in Alexandria are simply a reminder that it is one thing to start a revolution, but a completely different thing to finish one successfully. History certainly bears witness to the difficulties of pulling together a coherent government after the violent ouster of a much entrenched ruler. Think of England after the Roundheads lopped off the not-so-round head of Charles I. Or France post-Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. Even the Founding Fathers had some tricky moments after they booted the remnants of King George out of the new United States. Things were messy and confused, of course. A myriad of groups join the fray for their disparate reasons, and pulling together a cohesive entity of these many, and often contradictory, forces takes both time, patience, and the willingness to listen to each voice and to compromise. From my limited experience with Egypt, these are not characteristics that I would place at the top of the list describing the nature of the Egyptian people. I’d list strong willed, passionate and determined, but also stubborn, single minded, and confrontational---traits that are great for starting a revolution, but not so hot for building a new government.

The next few weeks should be revealing. Will the military let go of its dog-with-a-bone hold on power? Will the police take on the role of protector rather than instigator? Will the people move away from protesting and move on to voting? The sad part of all of this is that while riots and protest marches have proven to be the most effective way to get things to shake loose here, it may also have put a nail in the coffin of the very things that have kept the Egyptian economy and many individual families afloat for so long here…tourism and international investment. So while the people flock to the square to support the revolutionary cause, without a coherent end-game plan, the already flimsy economic support for their livelihoods erodes. And unlike John Lennon, I’m not so certain that it will be alright.