I Have Arrived

3 planes rides, 13 hours across the Pacific Ocean, 9 hours in the Brisbane airport, and 35 hours of travel later, I arrived in my new home Port Moresby, Papua New Guinea.  Ready or not.

The first two legs of my trip were painless –with the exception of saying the see-you-laters.  The forty-eight hours prior to boarding my flight at Dulles International in Washington D.C were spent driving nearly 600 miles between the Papua New Guinea Embassy, my sister’s house in Maryland, my parent’s home on the Eastern Shore, and the Jersey Shore attempting to get my visa in hand, saying goodbyes, and celebrating with friends and family.  I had my favorite meal served at my good-bye dinner in New Jersey where Camryn (my cousin and BFF) and I pinky-swore not to cry when saying our goodbyes.  We both managed to be out of each other’s sight when we teared up.  Thursday night I couldn’t even function because I had been in overdrive for so long.  I made phone calls between stops to share my good news and packed and repacked my luggage and my boxes.  I shipped two carry-on luggage sized boxes and three small wine boxes for a grand total, drum roll please, a mere $2,954.54.  A real bargain, if you ask me.  After dropping my boxes, “cleaning” my car and signing it over to my father, and running around like a chicken with my head cut off, the real celebrating began.  My sister finished her Masters’ Program, my mom has been hired to an administrative position at a wonderful school in Greenville, I was finally moving, and Dad was along for the ride!  We went to Jessy’s favorite restaurant in Old Towne to celebrate and met up with my good friends afterwards to continue the party.  There were even more graduations and new jobs to toast.  There was even a baby to clink glasses for!  (Mama was an excellent designated driver.)  A trip to iHop, a crying mom, and tearful goodbye to my pup Charlee later, Dad had me and my heavy bags at the airport and on my way. 

My first flight was a quick and easy six hours.  A layover long enough to freshen up and grab one last American meal (nothing like Five Guys in the airport) and I was on my next plane.  I popped some Nyquil post take off in L.A. to ensure I slept through most of the 13 hour flight across the Pacific to Brisbane, Australia.  I went through the transfer line with my new found friend, a gentleman picking his son up from PNG due to a bout of Dengue fever, to find out my flight from Brisbane to Port Moresby was canceled.  I came to find out that the plane I was intended to be on was run into stairs in Sydney and they combined my early flight with a later one and then delayed that combined flight three times.  No one seemed to be concerned as most people on this flight did so weekly for business and this is common place.  





Welcome to Australia - buy Uggs!





No turning back now.  On Air Nuigini flight to POM, PNG.



As the landing gear came down and we narrowed in on Port Moresby International Airport, the view out the window was unlike anything I’d ever seen.  The port was speckled with homes and businesses and then there would be rolling hills dressed in mass of greenery.   Taxiing through Jackson Field (named after the one and only legend himself) I was wide eyed like a deer in head lights.  The terminal looks much like a county airport and little shacks of homes sat just beyond the barbed wire fences surrounding the rundown hangers and old abandoned planes.  I could see smoke off in the distance from burning fires.  People trudged along the airport fences.  I hadn’t stepped off the plane and I was already feeling a bit of culture shock.

First sight of Port Moresby, PNG

The Port of Moresby



This is what surrounds the International Airport



The line for customs and entry (and my first stamp in my new passport) was nothing compared to flying back into the United States in Newark or Dulles.  It was one little room with a short zig-zagged line.  The gentleman stamping my passport wished me luck and I waited for my bags, the last ones unloaded of course.  I pushed my cart full out to be greeted by my new principal with a friendly smile.  Once stepping outside of the airport there were gruff, intimidating people lining all the walk ways offering to push my bags while children ran up and down the ramps.  My winter-pale skin stood out among a sea of chocolate brown.  Suzanne walked through the people with no comment, just nods here and there.  I said no thank you to one gentleman in tattered shorts and a dirty green button down wearing no shoes.  His face lit up as he welcomed me to his country with a red toothy grin (from the beetle nut he chews).  To see such a massive man smile at me like a child on Christmas morning despite having turned his pleas for a bit of work down was something else. 

My first bit of new information about living in PNG was learned as we approached the car and I unknowingly stepped to the left of Suzanne’s CRV to get in and realized that in this country we drive on the left side of the road, placing the driver on the right side of the vehicle.   With a chuckle and a thumb in the right direction, she told me Henry, the school driver, would be more than willing to give me lessons.

Suzanne took my straight to my new home where I met Andrew, my Deputy Principal (Assistant).  He had stocked my fridge and pantry with the basics and then took my out to dinner with Sally, the other DP that night.  This was my first introduction to the major difference between working in an International School and in the Public Schools in the United State.  There is not the divide between administration and faculty that there is back home.  We are all professionals.  We all have a job to do, but we also all live here, together, and we all must work AND play together.

My first full day in Papua New Guinea, Henry, the school driver had taken me around and helped me set up bank accounts, purchase a cell phone, get a driver’s license, and negotiate a vehicle purchase – all before noon.  Henry is this tall, broad shouldered man with this quiet, rumbling voice.  He is sweet and soft spoken.  He has a smile that makes you feel at ease when you are a fish out of water.  We’ll see if he stays this sweet and soft spoken once put in the passenger’s seat while I am in the driver’s in a mixed up car on the wrong side of the road. 

Tuesday night many of the faculty and staff headed to the Yacht Club for Noodle Night.  It was weekly Wok Night which was an experience.  I was in a travel coma while attempting to hold conversations while translating Aussie, British, and New Zealand English back into American English.  Who knew there would be such a great language barrier?  I have had to use the vocabulary strategies I teach my students during every conversation.  It is exhausting.

I am spending the rest of the week doing orientation at school and getting to know my class.  I am so ready to just dive in, but I know that taking it easy and allowing my body and mind adjust to a new home, a new time zone, and a new school (or just being employed again all together) is a good thing. 

First impressions: despite all of the negative articles, the safety concerns, and the mixed reviews of information Port Moresby is a culturally rich city.  It is definitely poverty stricken, but there is life and joy everywhere from the people playing rugby in the middle of round-abouts (which is an ongoing event here) to the children laughing and playing on the sides of the road.  It is unlike anything I have seen before.  TEMIS, my school, is an overwhelmingly positive and welcoming institution.  It is undergoing much change in curriculum and the level of expectation which is exciting.  The mix of Papua New Guinean teachers and staff and international teachers makes for diversity I have never encountered.  I am beyond excited for this once in a lifetime experience.