Cleaning Party

Being among the ‘haves’ in a country with so many ‘have-nots’ creates tension within me. How do I not hoard my riches but share them? How do I use my resources for my work, but also use them to empower those around me? How do I live with the fact that being white skinned, educated, employed, having travel insurance and Medicare card give me a constant material advantage over many around me? Where is the line between luxury and comfort, or between simplicity and a martyr complex?

One way of redistributing wealth that I make use of is through employing yard and house help. Yes, weeding my garden and cleaning my house are things I am more than capable of, but they are also the only job opportunity or skills that some locals have. By giving this work, and the government set wage, to them I am giving them the opportunity to earn their own way and support their family. I am also gaining the opportunity to build a relationship with locals, to sit and chat over a cuppa and to enjoy getting to know some lovely people who can teach me so much about PNG life and culture.

Recently, when I moved from a rental Ukarumpa home to my own home, I employed a party of cleaning women. They blessed me by making the previous house shine. I blessed them by giving five women a day’s pay to take home to their families*. A small price for a day of being surrounded by hard working women, plus a lot of chatter and laughter. Four women scrubbed every inside surface and one swept away spiders and washed the outside of the house. At morning and afternoon tea we all sat down over a cuppa and a biscuit for a break and a chat. At lunch we shared in food and then rested as they worked on bilums (string bags) and I read a book. The next day I put a mountain of cleaning rags through the wash.

At my new house I met Bina, the lady who has looked after this yard for many years. She did the gardening, I paid her, we chatted and a new relationship was started that I hope will continue for many more years.

At home I would not use my money to pay a team of cleaners or a gardener. Here I consider it a blessing to both me and the women who work for me to be able to do so. Some people sponsor a child, as that is their available avenue to share their wealth. In my situation, I have the privilege of being able to employ a matriarch, and even meet her kids and grandkids.

 Visiting Wamu (my usual house help) and
her family in the village one day.

*I’m not such a grot that it takes five women to clean up after me! Housing policy here is that a house rented more than six months must have every surface – walls, ceilings, drawers, cupboards etc- cleaned when you move to help prevent mould and to keep the house in top form for the next tenant. 

Year of the House

Having grown up in church-owned housing and rented my way through a number of houses as an adult, the great Aussie dream of home ownership has always been just that, a dream. This year though, that has changed.

Recently I was given a house in Ukarumpa.

My new Ukarumpa home.

This is our ‘company town’ in the Highlands where I am based when not living in a village situation. It is my base of professional support, personal friendships and ex-pat belonging. It is a town with a complex identity that means different things to different people, but for me it is one of my PNG homes. It is also now a place where I own a home.

Robyn (Aussie) came to PNG in 1987 and Lisbeth (Swede) arrived in 1986. Together they worked with the Ramoaaina people of the Duke of York Island near Rabaul, dedicating the Ramoaaina New Testament in 2007. They continue to work in that region, supporting the Ramoaaina Old Testament translation as well as the Label, Kandas and Fanamaket New Testament translation teams from nearby New Ireland Province.

Previously, they too were Ukarumpa based, coming and going to the Islands. These days they are Kokopo based and no longer need their Ukarumpa house. Some people sell their home, but they decided to give theirs away. It is a cosy little home, with three bedrooms, office, living room, kitchen and shed. At the moment I live here alone, but may end up sharing with another single woman either long or short term.

At the same time as moving into my Ukarumpa home, I have been getting ready to go to the village, where I am in the process of building a house. Land has been set aside and posts and bearers have already been installed. I am bringing a solar power system with me, and water tanks and some tin roofing for water catchment are on order. Nails, hinges and a saw are among the items I’m providing to assist in the building effort.

An Ubuo house (not mine) under construction (D.Petterson)

So it is that this year will probably end up with me having two homes to call my own! While I have been given one house and am buying nails to build another, my sister has gone through a mountain of paperwork and stress to gain a mortgage and purchase a home in Australia. The contrast in home acquisition is stark, yet so is the nature of our houses.

My Ukarumpa home is on land that is part of a 99 year lease to an organisation I am a member of. My village house is on land that I have no title to. Both houses are in a country where I currently have a five year visa. I expect to be here long term and renew my visa many times, which is why I am investing myself and my resources, but many things could easily change. Still, I am excited at these developments that continue to make this country more and more ‘home’.

What if…?

Settling into one area has involved a whole new round of paperwork: contingency planning. This has meant sitting down and deliberately catastrophising about various situations, planning my response, writing it down, filing it with various people and promising to do my best to keep to it in a real emergency.

I am familiar with this approach, as in my previous work on sailing ships we did regular emergency drills. We had flow diagrams of responses and responsibilities. Fire drills on hot summer days were an excuse for a water fight, but we were ready should there be a real fire. Man overboard drills taught us things that meant we saved a life when the real thing occurred (a story for another day). Preparedness makes a big difference in an emergency.

So it is that I’ve been thinking through what I would do, what I need to always carry just-in-case (bandages for snake bite, locator beacon), what I would take with me if making an emergency exit and which direction I would go. I’ve purchased a 20L container for an emergency fuel supply. If I have fuel standing by it is easier to find a driver and a boat. Contact details for various organisations and individuals have been listed. Maps have been drawn and marked.

All of this in the hope that I never need to use it.

Still, stuff happens. We live in a broken world where the acts of individuals and of nature cause fear, injury and destruction. I do not expect to avoid my share in the harsh realities of life, but I do hope to be prepared when they strike. I hope this paperwork is next read when I review it in a few years time, not when it is called on in an emergency, but it is good to have thought things through and made a plan together with others.

I do work remotely, with many challenges, but I am not unprepared or unconnected. Please take comfort in this.

 

Contingency planning… cause life is not always smooth sailing.