Sweet Summer Days

It's not summer here, but it feels like it...and eating Roll Kuchen and watermelon is one of the perfect things to do on a warm summer's day.  One of the surprises in moving to Papua New Guinea was finding watermelon for sale.  It doesn't show up very often - only once a year or so for a few months - but we take advantage of it when it does. 

Eating Roll Kuchen (like fried dough) and watermelon together is one of my favorite Mennonite traditions, and it's fun finding people who appreciate it here.  Lesley's (above) background is Ukrainian, but her husband, Pete, is Mennonite so we made enough Roll Kuchen to feed an army and dug in. 

Spring Cleaning

The weather doesn't change much here throughout the year so every day's a good day for spring cleaning.  My co-worker, Beth, and I decided to tackle the office loft, a.k.a. the toss-it-up-there-and-we'll-deal-with-it-later place.  We had 20 years of paperwork that had been collecting dust, and boxes and boxes full of other items.  We both love organizing so this was more fun than work.  There was so much paper to burn (recycling isn't an option here), though, that the guys in the workshop decided to dig a huge hole and bury it all instead.

Along with lots of garbage and cockroaches we found this perfectly preserved lizard in with some toys. 

The Conundrum

Almost daily I'm faced with relationships and situations that make me realize what a drastically different culture I live in compared to my own.  A lot of days this is good - it makes me appreciate that my North American way of doing things isn't always right and it stretches me to get more into the mind of a Papua New Guinean and be more sensitive to the way life is lived here.  But other days it's just plain hard and frustrating and I'm left thinking "how do I get around this one?" 

Last year I bought a miniature soccer ball for my dog, Wyatt, who lovingly played with it every day.  One day, that beloved soccer ball went missing.  It wasn't mysterious...I knew exactly where it went.  We often have village kids that roam around our campus and if there's anything lying around that can be easily picked up and carried away, they'll take the opportunity to do so.  Stealing isn't bad unless you're caught, so as long as no one sees you you're good.  I didn't think too much about my missing ball but oftened wondered where it had ended up.  Until this week.  I was invited to take part in a traditional feast at a friends' house in the village, and was surprised to see my soccer ball lying in their yard.  Kids were playing with it (see picture) and my first thought was "I'm going to go grab my soccer ball and take it back!"  Did it matter that it only cost me a couple dollars and Wyatt had forgotten about the ball long ago?  No...it was mine and I wanted it back. 

Then I started looking around at those kids with dirty clothes and few belongings and wondered how important it really was.  Culturally it would have been completely acceptable to take it back and confront the new owners of the ball, who would probably just laugh and let me have it.  But was it worth it?  It might all seem a little trivial, but these are the little conundrums we find ourselves faced with here, and looking at them through North American eyes doesn't help.  I didn't end up taking the ball home, although I admit I could be easily swayed if I saw the ball again.