Showing posts with label Market. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Market. Show all posts

Monday, June 11, 2018

The Bare Necessities



When I returned from furlough a few weeks ago, I noticed that there were a few things missing from my house (or that I had missed during furlough) that I considered necessary or life (or just to save my sanity!) here in Papua New Guinea (PNG). I wrote a similar blog post way back when I first arrived in PNG in 2014 (you can read it here), but that post was based more on village living than being in Ukarumpa, which is where I live now (and have lived for most of the last four years).

Sunday, June 14, 2015

Veggie Tales

One thing I enjoy most about Papua New Guinea is the availability of fresh produce at the market. Papua New Guineans from all over the Aiyura Valley bring fresh fruits and vegetables from their gardens to sell at the Ukarumpa market. The market is outside with long wooden tables set up where the vendors can display their produce.
The market
Market runs from 6:30-8:00 am, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, so one morning a week (Fridays this term) I haul myself out of bed (which gets harder and harder as the end of the school year approaches), throw on my “market clothes” (aka a skirt and sweatshirt over my pyjamas and my gum boots), grab some kina, my keys, and my lowlands string bilum, and head out the door. Since the fire-mapartment is so close to the market (down the driveway, past the store, and around the Teen Centre), I don’t have far to walk.

Friday, December 12, 2014

To Market, To Market


One Thursday morning during Village Living, one of my roommates and I decided that we needed to get out of the village for a few hours. We asked our wasmama (host mother), Patrisia, if we could go to market with her later that day; she was pleased as punch that we wanted to go again (we had gone the previous week), so we quickly ate our lunch and gathered up what we needed for our trek through the jungle down to the Mediba market.
The four of us (waspapa (host father) went, too, to help carry the produce to sell) headed down the bus rot (bush road or trail), which wasmama was pleased to inform us was much shorter than taking the main road, as we had done the week before.