Going Bush in PNG

Looking out from the Airport in Port Moresby you will see a series of high mountain ranges. They are called the highlands. Highlanders live a considerably different life style than those in the city. I’m told that these green hills will turn a golden brown during the dry season, which starts in June.


Homes in the bush seemed to be a little larger than the average home in Port Moresby. They’re definitely not as densely packed. The state of completion can only be described as a continuing work in progress.


With a nice wide staircase leading to a large covered porch and cross ventilation in both directions And no homeowners association fees)– what more could you want?


I needed to go out in the bush to visit some remote villages and a school. When leaving Port Moresby we always travelled with at least two autos, and two people in each auto. They typically won’t try to hijack two cars. A lone driver, however, is a nothing more than an open target.


The paths that we followed into the bush may have been rutted intentionally. The ruts force a driver to slow way down, making them an easy target for robbery. (Or kidnapping -- if they are white.)


We never let the other car get more than a couple of feet ahead of us. Our car had me and my driver; the other car had two paid security guards.


When we arrived I was greeted by a herd of kiddies. They all wanted to shake hands or just touch me. (they probably hadn’t seen a pale face very many times).


I was definitely a novelty, until they realized that they could have their picture taken. Then I wasn’t so important anymore. I felt at home with the Texas Lone Star tee shirt.


As I mentioned, I wanted to visit one of the bush schools to see what we could do to help them. Here is one of the classrooms. (The children were out for recess.)


Here is a picture of one of the other classrooms. Notice the desk/bench combination. The bench is about 6” wide; the desk is about 12” wide.


Here we have the teacher behind his desk, looking into the adjacent classroom. The fellow in the red shirt is Desmond Bundu. He was with me.


Some of the class rooms didn’t have furniture. The children had to sit on the dirt. Not even the teacher had a place to sit. Yet they were all happy, no one complained. I asked one girl how old she was. "Thirteen," she replied. "What grade are you in?" "Third grade," was the answer. She was just happy to be able to go to school.


When class was in session, they tried to assign only four children to each desk. Sometimes that wasn’t possible.


This class had many more than the preferred number. I think they told me they had almost 40 students. But they had two grades in the one classroom.


The school was built by local villagers. Naturally, I was interested in the methods of construction and the details of assembly.


The day we visited was a yard clean up day. All of the students were asked to bring a machete to help clean up the school yard. They went out as a group and cut all of the weeds and stickers down. This is how it looked as a finished job. Can you imagine asking all the children to bring a machete to school?


Students and teachers alike were pleased with our visit. They only had two requests – if we were inclined to help them. One was the need for clean water. They had no water at the school. During the long hot days the students got very thirsty. The second request was for materials to build desks for the bare classroom, so the students wouldn’t have to sit on the dirt. I was certain that we could help, but wasn't in a position to promise anything, yet.

As we left they all came out to see us off. It was a sad experience. It was a happy time.