Ezra

 We were blessed with a healthy baby boy last week! Ezra John was born on July 19th, and we have all been spending the past 10 days adjusting to life with a newborn in the house. Since he was born just over a week later than his due date, Ezra's arrival also meant we needed to start his paperwork process as soon as possible. We applied for his birth certificate the same day that he was born, and spent some time yesterday morning getting a passport photo taken. Eyes must be open, mouth closed -- that in itself is a difficult task. Next step: no hands on the picture (ours or his), and he needs to be held up in front of the white screen. And to top it all off, he should be (at least sort of) looking at the camera. Thankfully, we had a patient camera man and got a photo that they think will be approved! It's amazing how even a newborn can look like a criminal...

While we wait for a birth certificate, passport, and visa, we will continue to share brief updates together with a short excerpt of what we shared in our presentation.

I have been privileged to spend most of my flying time serving one of the most isolated and remote areas of Papua New Guinea. The Western Province is one of the largest and most inaccessible regions in PNG — with vast flatlands covered in river systems. Villages are dotted along the streams and rivers across the province, but the province lacks the infrastructure or transport options needed for its people to access healthcare or education. 

 

In lowland areas like the Western Province, it is exceptionally hot and humid. This, combined with a clay-like soil, makes it very difficult to grow many crops. Malnutrition is a common problem, as well as other health concerns including acute malaria. In some areas, water has been polluted due to improper treatment of mining wastes in the mountains to the north. If any area of the country needs healing, in all senses of the word, the Western Province is one of them. 

 

Healing processes have been started in this area through a partnership between MAF and another program known as the SDP, or Sustainable Development Program. Most of my flying has been and will be in this area, working with the program’s Aerial Health Patrol teams. 

 

Each Monday and Tuesday, we transport several health teams to a remote village in the province, where they stay for one or two weeks to provide much needed health services. During these patrols, the health workers see many patients (and sometimes call MAF for medical evacuations if they don’t have supplies or equipment to treat the patient), give lessons to the community on hygiene and personal practices that promote good health, and begin training a community health worker. 

 

Once their time in a particular village is complete, we will return to the nearest airstrip to transport them back to their base in Balimo, where they will prepare for their next patrol the next week. These dedicated health workers spend six weeks in the bush and then spend two weeks with their family before heading out for six more weeks of patrols. 

 

Without MAF flying 10 teams into approximately 40 airstrips in the Western Province, many people would not be reached. The teams would have to make long, dangerous trips by canoe and walking to reach each village — spending more time travelling than treating and teaching. Through our partnership, more people than ever are being reached and more villages are seeing a start to the healing that they have needed for so long. 

A Cucumber and Two Carrots

     As promised in our last blog post, here is another story that we shared in one of our presentations:

    I exit the supermarket with my senses overloaded: One hand pushing a grocery cart, one hand holding Nova’s, one hand carrying my car keys, and one hand double checking to make sure none of my valuables are in sight. One eye looking to see who is around me, one eye checking for vehicles backing up or driving in, one eye making sure I am actually still holding Nova’s hand (and seeing that she’s getting her cheeks pinched yet again), and one eye noticing the faithful basket seller approaching me. One ear hearing, “Morning, whitie!” One ear hearing, “Nice baby!” and one ear hearing, “Come look! You like these baskets?” I tell the basket seller that his baskets are very nice, but that I can’t buy one today, then fasten Nova into her carseat before unloading my cart. 

    With the cart quickly unloaded and car doors shut, I have a decision to make: do I leave Nova in the car while I return my shopping cart, or do I take her out again? Thankfully, a guard approaches and offers to take my cart back for me. I jump into the driver seat and get ready to drive home. Just as I close my door, a young boy approaches my window, holding a stack of newspapers. I can’t hear what he is saying, so roll down my window just enough to say, “Sorry, I don’t need a newspaper today!” Before I can roll the window back up, he responds: “No... I’m hungry.”

    I look at the blazing noon-day sun, and ask, “Where’s your family?” *shrug* “Why are you not in school?” *shrug* “Have you eaten anything today?” *head shake* Looking into my back seat, I see my market bag from the stop I made at the market before getting groceries. I pull out a cucumber and two carrots and pass them through the window before leaving – less than a dollar for me, but his face lights up with a shy “Thank you.” Rolling my window up again, I leave the parking lot with a view in the mirror of the newspaper boy sitting on a curb eating his carrot. 

Back in Canada

   After travelling across the world once again, we have taken our time settling into a temporary routine in Canada. Our first weeks back were spent preparing for and sharing a few presentations as well as reacquainting with grandparents, parents, siblings, cousins, and aunts and uncles. Nova is thoroughly enjoying all of the attention she receives from family! 
   As we continue to anticipate the arrival of our little one and then take some time to adjust and get ready for our return to PNG, D.V, we expect the days and weeks remaining in Canada to fly by quickly. It has been great to have a chance to reconnect with family and friends, but at the same time we are excited for the steps lying ahead of us.

 
   Over the course of the next weeks, we plan to share some of the stories that we shared during our presentations (with only brief family updates). These are all stories that show different aspects of our life in PNG in the first 10 months that we were in country:

   While working in Balimo, situated in the Western Province of PNG, I am on my way back from picking up a medical team from Lake Murray when I get a medevac call. A patient in Kapal, a village, needs immediate medical care – and the only way for her to get this care is by being flown to a hospital. My plans change immediately. I drop the medical team off in Balimo, inform the next team that I cannot pick them up today anymore and prepare for the medevac. How much fuel do I need? How is the weather where I am going? Do I have enough daylight to return home? Does the patient require a stretcher, or can he or she sit in a seat? How will this affect the following days of flying? I call the Ops team to get more information, and then remove 2 seats from my plane and put a stretcher in their place and prepare for take-off. 

      Twenty minutes later I am on the ground in Kapal (a minimum 2-day trip by boat and land from Balimo). Kapal is a bush village with no health workers, clinic, or school - it is only serviced by the AHP health teams.

   I learn that a young mother had a miscarriage, and the bleeding is not stopping.  Her family helps carry her to the airplane and I secure her in the aircraft on our stretcher. She is weak and I can see the pain in her eyes. Since there is not medical worker, I ask for a family member to accompany and watch her as we fly. Flying can cause medical conditions to deteriorate, so it is important to always have someone accompanying a medical patient. After praying for her and a briefing for the flight we take off towards Daru, a 20 minute flight, where there is a hospital. On route I call for them to have an ambulance ready -- which is just a truck -- so she can get to the hospital as quickly as possible.

    When I do these kind of flights the realities of bush living and lack of proper medical care hit me again and again. I can often see the pain in the eyes of health workers as they battle through the overwhelming need of the isolated each day and I feel privileged to be able to serve with them, realizing that we do not control life but are still called serve to bring help to best of our abilities.