Life in Papua New Guinea is so different from life in the West. Trying to explain it never seems to portray an accurate picture. Traveling to origin to source coffee is a consistently rewarding experience. Embracing the culture and understanding the people behind the process firsthand is priceless. Throughout my career, I have traveled through Central and South America and to Africa, the motherland of coffee. Still, nothing could have prepared me for Papua New Guinea. It is one of those places you must visit to understand. It’s one of the most culturally diverse places on Earth, full of mysticism and mystery.
PNG is far away from the US. The travel alone is intimidating. It’s so hard that it dissuades even the most seasoned buyers. It’s a beautiful country, but it’s not glamorous. With 6 separate flights each way on my last trip, getting to PNG is no easy task.
“Expect the unexpected” is a common saying in PNG and an adoption of this mentality is essential when traveling in this country. On our recent trip in June, we were emailed a notice of a change to visa requirements the day of departure from the US. Now, instead of being able to get a visa on arrival, we had to have a visa prior to arrival. This process takes 1-2 weeks and we had hours before boarding. We called our contacts who advised that we should postpone our trip, but we had already made so many preparations that turning back was not an option. We boarded our first flight with a large amount of faith that we could figure this out while in transit, with our contacts sending people to the Foreign Affairs Office while we were in transit. After the 14 hour leg from California to Sydney, we were told that a friend of someone at our producer-partners’ coffee estate personally knew one of the visa officers and we had our applications expedited (for a fee). Problem one was solved. We got to Brisbane for our flight into PNG. Here, I was told there was an issue with the spelling of my name as is appeared on the ticket and they could not let me board. By this point, to say I was dazed and confused would be an understatement…nevertheless all we could do was roll with it. After hours of airline office visits and phone calls, the issue was resolved and about 20 minutes before the plane departed, I was notified that I could board. After finally arriving in Port Moresby, we rested and prepared for our flight to the Highlands the next morning. We boarded the plane relieved that, after all the visa mayhem, we were going to make it to the highlands. Then, the pilot announced that there were mechanical problems with the plane and we had to wait for another plane. With no additional plane available, we waited. Eventually, a plane was ready…we boarded and we took off. After 40 hours of incredibly stressful travel, we finally made it up to Mt. Hagen. We disembarked from the plane and felt the cool crisp highland air hit our faces…I always get a small sense of relief when getting to my destination, but the rush I had getting off the plane in Mt. Hagen doesn’t compare. We were weathered and worn and we felt victorious in that moment. When we exited the airport, a taller man with deep facial features wearing a dominion pizza shirt walked up extending his arm for a fist bump. His name is Barnabus. He works for the estate handling various jobs, and this week he is our driver and personal tour guide while staying at the Estates’ guest house.
When we arrived at the guest house we were greeted by the man in charge of the house, Jacob. Jacob has severe hearing loss, but we could communicate in other ways….he is full of energy, kindness, and has great head of hair. He will be in charge of us throughout our stay assisting us with whatever it might be, from fresh fruit to fresh laundry. Jacob was our guy. Because of him, we started our days with a big plate of food and enough coffee to keep us up for days.
Settling into the guesthouse, we wasted no time getting ready to head out. We messaged Barnabus that we were ready to go and meet with our origin partners. Word travels fast in these parts and he is one step ahead of us, already sitting in his idling truck, patiently waiting for us. I was excited to make it up to the Estate. Barnabas was happy to see us and introduced us to the family members he had picked up while we were at the guest house. The truck was packed from the front to the way back with members of his family and tribe. Two seats remained open for us and we hopped in. We introduced ourselves and exchanged pleasantries. 
Everyone was extremely friendly and grateful to meet us and did not seem to mind cramming in the truck. We left the guest house and would eventually drop the family at a nearby establishment as we continued through the Highlands to the estate. After dropping off the family and friends, Barnabus received a call. I could hear a frantic voice as he attentively listened, acknowledging when necessary. The look on his face and the groans he made did not seem promising. He hung up his phone, took a deep breath, and slowly sighed. He turned to us and, in a deep mumble, accompanied by a thick PNG accent, said that violence had erupted nearby, two people were shot, and the estate was on lockdown until further notice. He explained to us that elections were coming up and this year’s campaign season was turning more violent than usual. Just when we thought the hard part was behind us, we realized the journey was just beginning. Stay tuned for our next blog, where the journey continues!