I was sort of wondering... after all, I hadn't been on for... a while.
I finally got back online, after a couple weeks of traveling, and peeked at my inbox. Gulp.
But here I am back again, at.... uh... home. Kudjip-home, that is. And I'm settling back into life in the highlands of PNG.
Other than the fact that I'm back, there's not much more to say (but don't worry, I'll find something anyway)... just everyday life on the Kudjip Nazarene Mission Station....
I went into the Operating Theatre for a couple hours Thursday morning, watched a couple surgeries. I asked Auntie Margaret (the awesomest scrub nurse ever) if she would help me learn the names of some of the equipment and tools and things... and trust me, there's a lot of complicated-looking stuff in there. She lent me a big blue book "Auntie Margaret's Operating Theatre Procedure Manual" which I am now studying. I have a strong suspicion that I shall have a test tomorrow, on surgery day.
And, I made candied peanuts this morning from some peanuts the Myers gave us... I do like peanuts plain, but ANYTHING is better with sugar on it. So now, I need to eat all of those that I'm going to want, because when my brother gets home from school, he is going to inhale the rest of them.... welcome to life with a teenage brother!
Also this week... or last week, rather... this last week... whatever.... we switched furniture with Erin Meier... here's her blog post about it
See, Dad, Quinton, and I all have allergies and would prefer to sit on furniture which is as dust-free as possible, no matter how uncomfortable it is. I for one, would probably rather sit on a plastic bench than anything else.
Erin does not have this kind of allergies, and leans more toward furniture that you can sit on without wincing.
However, in our house there was fluffy, squishy, comfortable couches that held dust marvelously and which mom must needs sit on alone while the rest of us looked sneezily on; while in Erin's house there was furniture with removable cushion covers and wipe-down-able armrests which were not the most conducive for curling up with a good book. Sooooo... we switched! And the inhabitants of both houses were quite delighted with the result. Much fewer sneezes for us, much more squishy couches for her! There's pictures on her blog post.
Well... it's almost time for lunch, so I shall end this blog post, which was meant to let you all know that I am still alive, and in the general vicinity of the planet, though most certainly quite dangerously near it's edge.
28.3.09
Talofa Samoa
I spent this last week in Samoa.
This was my first trip there; and now I have spent time in each of the six countries in the two Church of the Nazarene fields that we work in: Papua New Guinea, Solomon Islands, Vanuatu, Fiji, Tonga, and Samoa.
Samoa was the only one missing, and we don't want a missing country, now, do we?
Dad went to Samoa for some meetings... and I tagged along, taking notes for the meetings, making myself useful, and getting to see a new country!
We were fed very well... the Samoan umu us very similar to the Fijian lovo (island earth oven) which I have grown up with and have no problem consuming large quantities of.
After the meetings, we took a boat over to the island of Savai'i, which is a beautiful, sleepy little island.
One very unique thing about Samoa is their traditional house, or "fale." Due, I suppose, to the climate of this tropical island country (which could possibly be described as "hot" and "humid"), fales are built with... no walls. There are woven blinds which can be lowered for privacy, but remain up in the day. They are actually very comfortable and cool... I was just about ready to take up residence in one myself, if I couldn't get back to the air-conditioned meeting room!
You know, I do have a note to give here regarding the air in our part of the world. I have visited these places (such as New Mexican mountains, where my mom's from) that pompously claim to have "air." Bah! When you arrive, in full expectation of promised air, you can find no such thing. Oxygen is thinly spread and apportioned in much too small portions for human consumption (in my humble opinion). And you can't feel the air at all! I mean, I like to be able to FEEL my air. And in my part of the world, with a norm of 98% humidity, at 80-90F degrees, right at sea level, you can certainly know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are surrounded by comforting, thick air. You can almost swim in our air. And that's how it's supposed to be... isn't it?
This was my first trip there; and now I have spent time in each of the six countries in the two Church of the Nazarene fields that we work in: Papua New Guinea, Solomon Islands, Vanuatu, Fiji, Tonga, and Samoa.
Samoa was the only one missing, and we don't want a missing country, now, do we?
Dad went to Samoa for some meetings... and I tagged along, taking notes for the meetings, making myself useful, and getting to see a new country!
We were fed very well... the Samoan umu us very similar to the Fijian lovo (island earth oven) which I have grown up with and have no problem consuming large quantities of.
After the meetings, we took a boat over to the island of Savai'i, which is a beautiful, sleepy little island.
One very unique thing about Samoa is their traditional house, or "fale." Due, I suppose, to the climate of this tropical island country (which could possibly be described as "hot" and "humid"), fales are built with... no walls. There are woven blinds which can be lowered for privacy, but remain up in the day. They are actually very comfortable and cool... I was just about ready to take up residence in one myself, if I couldn't get back to the air-conditioned meeting room!
You know, I do have a note to give here regarding the air in our part of the world. I have visited these places (such as New Mexican mountains, where my mom's from) that pompously claim to have "air." Bah! When you arrive, in full expectation of promised air, you can find no such thing. Oxygen is thinly spread and apportioned in much too small portions for human consumption (in my humble opinion). And you can't feel the air at all! I mean, I like to be able to FEEL my air. And in my part of the world, with a norm of 98% humidity, at 80-90F degrees, right at sea level, you can certainly know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are surrounded by comforting, thick air. You can almost swim in our air. And that's how it's supposed to be... isn't it?
23.3.09
Attention for Using
... the instructions on my water heater. I laugh at this every morning when I take a shower, and have meant to blog about it for years. So now, as I prepare to leave my home in Navua, I thought, well, I won't have another chance, I might as well do it now. Here we go: the label on the front of my water heater, word for word....
Attention for using
-Type of gas must be fit for the requirement in the heater's name plate.
-Should be mounted out the doors where there is a top ventilation.
-Never use the heater near to combustibles or acidities.
-Do mention to close the gas valve after using.
-Never leave the heater without guard when it is using.
-In winter, please put out the water in the heater after using, so that to avoid frozen.
-Only a qualified technician should attempt to re-install and maintain the heater.
....I love transliterated things. [=
Attention for using
-Type of gas must be fit for the requirement in the heater's name plate.
-Should be mounted out the doors where there is a top ventilation.
-Never use the heater near to combustibles or acidities.
-Do mention to close the gas valve after using.
-Never leave the heater without guard when it is using.
-In winter, please put out the water in the heater after using, so that to avoid frozen.
-Only a qualified technician should attempt to re-install and maintain the heater.
....I love transliterated things. [=
21.3.09
webMASTER
I have spent the last few days coding like crazy... see, we are about to release a new website, and I'm trying to get as much as I can done before I leave my computer and internet.
And no, I'm not going to tell you the new site name yet. Sorry.
ANYWAY, after many solid hours of coding, I've come to notice a few things about my job, which of course I shall share with you all. lucky you.
If you do web coding, then you will relate to this post.
If you do not, then welcome to a little window into the life of a webmaster.
I love the term "webmaster." It sounds so... MASTER-ish. I mean... hello, what do you do, I'm a webMASTER. mwa-ha-ha. Whoever came up with the term must have been a webmaster.
Ok, so now that we have established that I love the name of my job, we shall move on to other things about it.
What do webmasters do? Well... essentially we spend our days staring at a small, thin screen through which we view and manipulate the world. We do this by typing away at a little keyboard in strange isoteric languages and then clicking a magical button labeled "preview" which displays our craftmanship. *type type type* *preview*
I am not quite sure why we must use such weird-looking code, complete with symbols and shortcuts and whatnots, why can we not just type "put that thing here." I have, however, come up with a workable theory. That is this:
We are paid for what we do. If everyone could do it, everyone WOULD do it, and we would be out of a job. Therefore, we must make what we do look as impossible as possible. End of theory. But, fellow webmasters, murder me not. It's just a theory.
The existence of code languages, whatever their purpose, does make for some interesting characteristics which usually mark a webMASTER and set them apart from the other inhabitants of earth.
Characteristic 1: When asked where the mop is, they will answer their mother in the following way:
div class, kitchen. object id, mop. position, relative. float, left. end div. *blink blink*
Characteristic 2: They will have uncontrollable bursts of warning such as, "MOM! SAVE A COPY OF THAT CARROT ON A THUMB DRIVE BEFORE YOU CUT IT UP!!! You might want to roll back to the previous state. Your internet could cut out, leaving you with a half-cut carrot! You really should save a copy."
Characteristic 3: They will be obbessed with spelling: "No, no, spell it c-o-l-o-r, not c-o-l-o-u-r. Even though the latter may be used in the majority of the world by the majority of people, the former is the only one which the programs will accept. If you spell it the latter way, you will end up with *shudder* Default Coloring."
I could continue here, but since probably only a small portion of my audience is getting this post at all, I should probably stop. I shall leave you with a joke, which most of you will probably not get.
There are only 10 types of people in the world: those who understand binary, and those who don't.
Amen.
Don't worry, that got most of my coding jokes out of my system. I shall attempt a post for regular, sane, normal people in the near future.
And no, I'm not going to tell you the new site name yet. Sorry.
ANYWAY, after many solid hours of coding, I've come to notice a few things about my job, which of course I shall share with you all. lucky you.
If you do web coding, then you will relate to this post.
If you do not, then welcome to a little window into the life of a webmaster.
I love the term "webmaster." It sounds so... MASTER-ish. I mean... hello, what do you do, I'm a webMASTER. mwa-ha-ha. Whoever came up with the term must have been a webmaster.
Ok, so now that we have established that I love the name of my job, we shall move on to other things about it.
What do webmasters do? Well... essentially we spend our days staring at a small, thin screen through which we view and manipulate the world. We do this by typing away at a little keyboard in strange isoteric languages and then clicking a magical button labeled "preview" which displays our craftmanship. *type type type* *preview*
I am not quite sure why we must use such weird-looking code, complete with symbols and shortcuts and whatnots, why can we not just type "put that thing here." I have, however, come up with a workable theory. That is this:
We are paid for what we do. If everyone could do it, everyone WOULD do it, and we would be out of a job. Therefore, we must make what we do look as impossible as possible. End of theory. But, fellow webmasters, murder me not. It's just a theory.
The existence of code languages, whatever their purpose, does make for some interesting characteristics which usually mark a webMASTER and set them apart from the other inhabitants of earth.
Characteristic 1: When asked where the mop is, they will answer their mother in the following way:
div class, kitchen. object id, mop. position, relative. float, left. end div. *blink blink*
Characteristic 2: They will have uncontrollable bursts of warning such as, "MOM! SAVE A COPY OF THAT CARROT ON A THUMB DRIVE BEFORE YOU CUT IT UP!!! You might want to roll back to the previous state. Your internet could cut out, leaving you with a half-cut carrot! You really should save a copy."
Characteristic 3: They will be obbessed with spelling: "No, no, spell it c-o-l-o-r, not c-o-l-o-u-r. Even though the latter may be used in the majority of the world by the majority of people, the former is the only one which the programs will accept. If you spell it the latter way, you will end up with *shudder* Default Coloring."
I could continue here, but since probably only a small portion of my audience is getting this post at all, I should probably stop. I shall leave you with a joke, which most of you will probably not get.
There are only 10 types of people in the world: those who understand binary, and those who don't.
Amen.
Don't worry, that got most of my coding jokes out of my system. I shall attempt a post for regular, sane, normal people in the near future.
18.3.09
Oh, would you look at that...
...Danielle got bored with her blog's design and decided to change it. Took me an hour, too. Appreciate it. [laughter]
And since I used up all my "work-on-blog" time with changing the design, there shall be no long post, because I have to get back to work.
[sigh]
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