The MAF Experience

Who's excited?   ...THIS GUY!

In about 24 hours, I will board a small MAF airplane to return to Dusin - the mountain village were Rachel and I first experienced PNG culture. This time around, I'm flying with 5 other Kudjip men to enjoy a week-long Men's Retreat - full of scenic hikes, red meat, soccer with the local kids, a healthy measure of quiet time to decompress, and lots of manly bonding.

I'm sure I'll come back with some stories to share, but in the meantime, I'd like to leave you with something from the archives, never before posted. Here follows the journal notes from my first Mission Aviation Fellowship (MAF) experience, when Rachel and I (entirely new to PNG culture) were sent off to Dusin. (You can read other Dusin adventures in the September Blog Posts).

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We accessed the MAF "terminal" through a narrow chain link entry lined with waiting PNG nationals. It was a small building with an even smaller waiting room, already crowded. Strategic placement of security guards and windows clad with metal bars provided a prison "feel" to the cramped enclosure.

Rachel and I each had a backpack and shared a personal duffel bag, but we were also bringing a week's worth of food - kindly pre-purchased and packed by the Myers into a couple large boxes. I was painfully aware of how much we were sticking out - not only as the only "white skins", but standing a head taller than most, and ridiculously overburdened with "stuff" to get us through a week in the bush. Everyone else clutched small satchels or their "bilum" (knit shoulder bag commonly used by both sexes as a purse/wallet/catch-all), and they each comfortably wore their only clothes - dirty, tattered, and layered against the cold of night and mountain storms.

The powerfully combined body odor in that tight space added to our general discomfort, but we both appreciated how none of these little discomforts was taking away from our joy in walking out God's plan for us. We had finally made it! Here we were, heading out into the remote bush to earn our Highland legs and learn the local language, and the Spirit was right there with us, our Source of reassurance, confidence, and eternal perspective.

Jeff Myers helped ensure our tickets, both going to AND returning from Dusin (no return ticket initially), then we circled up for prayer before he bid us farewell. He reiterated the same phrase we've been hearing for months from those with experience in the mission field - "expect the unexpected". Having been forewarned, we were ready to camp out for the day in that tight little cage of a terminal, with the possibility of the flight being canceled all together.

During our stay in the beautiful terminal-de-MAF, we learned that of the roughly 40-50 people packed into this living room sized space, only a handful were actually flying - the rest were loved ones and "wasman" (a family member assigned to watch over another) just waiting to see their relatives off. Eventually, when we were moved into the "pending departure" holding area, many of the relatives bid their farewells and left about 14 of us to further await our "balus" (airplane).

It wasn't difficult to meet new people as every man I made eye contact with would approach and offer his handshake in greeting. We had a number of Tok Pidgin "teachers" in the 5 hours of waiting time, most of which we didn't understand, but there was lots of smiling and nodding and awkward silences...but only awkward for us...the nationals are OK with silence until something important can be shared...or in our case, until we became uncomfortable enough to ask another question!

When it came time to load the small MAF twin otter (2 prop plane), we found two seats together in the rear, but I was then asked by the pilot, a very tall and kindly Australian, to help balance the weight by sitting in the seat directly behind the cockpit. Why not indeed! I thoroughly enjoyed watching the two pilots' talk through their detailed checklist, touching most of the infinite switches, buttons, and screens, before then starting the engines - one at a time - which were deafening. 

Once the throttle was applied in full, the takeoff was very quick (compared to the jumbo jets I'm used to), zipping us skyward effortlessly, toward the towering jungle mountains that promised us a week of adventure. Our flight path carried us between cloud enshrined mountaintops, and more than once I noted the pilot's screen blink "Warning: Check Altitude" as we seemed on a collision course with a wall of mountain - all the more terrifying when my view was obstructed within thick cloud - but we banked always into safety, overwhelmed with amazing views down long valleys of the beautiful Western Highlands.

Our first stop was in Sambai, just a couple mountains away from our final destination in Dusin. As the pilots lined us up for landing, the tiny green airstrip came into view, perched along the side of a steep mountainside. The rapid descent and bouncing landing was better than any theme park ride I'd ever experienced, but all the time I was wondering if we would have enough runway to stop!

The majority of our co-passengers fled the plane once safely parked, and I took the opportunity to stretch my legs. Apparently, these flights are scheduled weekly, so the vast crowds that assemble are purely there for air show entertainment - though seemed happy enough to wave back excitedly to the whiteskin. I also closely watched to ensure none of our Dusin-bound luggage "accidentally" remained in Sambai.

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To read more, click through the following links to access our Dusin Posts: "Meeting God in the Highlands, Part 1-5".

Part 1 - Arrival

Part 2 - Perspective

Part 3 - Leading

Part 4 - Meaning

Part 5 - Conclusions