Tomorrow I fly out and start heading towards the home base. It’s not better or worse, but things will certainly be different there. I won’t be saying “mornin’” to everyone I pass when I walk around (and I’ll have to pay more attention to how I dress). When I stand in line at the bank, strangers won’t start up conversations with me (and there won’t be 20 people ahead of me in the line). When it gets after 5pm and I’m still walking around, I won’t be worried about safety. I will be able to buy fresh milk. To catch a train. To drink water from the tap and not worry about typhoid. I will miss the fresh, cheap fruit and veg in Goroka – but there will be such a variety of other foods available that maybe I won’t after all. People with red lips will be wearing lipstick, rather than chewing buai. There will be bookshops.
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