New Ireland Translation Institute

NITI group photo

On an island which has had a long Bible translator presence, the opportunity to work on dialect adaptations and new translations for most of the remaining languages has been taken and turned into NITI; New Ireland Translation Institute. Twice a year language groups gather at Sohun, half an hour south of Namatanai, for four weeks to work on their translation with the support of translation advisers and consultants, away from the demands of village life.

The short walk to work

Reng, as he is locally known, lived here in Sohun for many years, raising his family, learning to speak Patpatar and translating the New Testament. It is on the foundation of this work that NITI has continued. The team of ex-pats live in Reng’s house, extended to fit the extras. Across the road and a short distance up the hill, NITI surprises you from the jungle. A large grassed area is home to the dormitories, classrooms, kitchen and dining room where the work happens.

NITI grounds, classrooms and kitchen

Each morning we gathered for a time of worship and a devotion then split into language groups to work. Reng supervises five language teams of dialects related to Patpatar. In the same room Steven works with two other related languages on an adaptation from another New Ireland NT. Seven teams in one room, but it is a focussed working space. There are computers everywhere, but I think I most appreciated the electricity the generator provided for powering the fans. At almost 4⁰ south of the equator and right by the coast, it can get pretty hot and sweaty!

Working with the Hinsaal, under the fan.

My role this course was working with one of the teams, Hinsaal, as they entered final edits and corrections to the entire NT. Reng had given us a long list of things to think about and we slowly chipped away at them. My role was largely to assist with understanding concepts from the English and Greek texts using Tok Pisin.

As a trade language, Tok Pisin has a limited vocabulary and relies on talking in pictures to reach the point. Using this to explain the difference between ‘courage’ and ‘encourage’ is a challenge! It means talking a circle around the topic, then on the next lap getting closer to the meaning, doing as many laps as it takes to eventually reach the target of understanding. I pray a lot that the Spirit may make the meaning clear where I cannot.

Beachfront living!

Lunch we shared with the participants and dinner we usually ate at home. After a long and focused day, it was nice to not use Tok Pisin and to catch up with the rest of the team. Interesting conversations also arise when you put seven linguists around the table, four of whom have completed a NT translation and all except me who have worked in the field for over twenty years.

The other two around the table were Bernie and Sherm. I long ago learnt that the cook and the engineer are often more important than the captain of the ship and the same is true here. Bernie looks after all of us with food and love. Sherm keeps the place running smoothly. Together they allow us to focus on the work we are here for, rather than all the other things going on around the place.

It has been good to get back into a village setting, back into language work and to see in practice how another cluster project works… They work hard, that is how they work!

 Living beside the ocean, where the sound of waves breaking on the reef accompanies me to sleep each night and wakes me gently in the mornings, has also been good for my soul and is absolutely worth the humidity that comes with being coastal at this latitude.

Kavieng

Diesel guarding the gate.

After months of living in Ukarumpa, being back in a PNG town feels, smells and sounds different. I am secure behind our big gates and barbed wire topped fence and the neighbours behind theirs, but we spread into each other’s space in many other ways. With windows always open to catch any breath of breeze, we can hear and smell everything that is going on.

The mostly empty block next door has people coming and going all day. I hear the chain rattle as the gate is unlocked and relocked. Someone sits by the fence in the shade of an umbrella, selling buai and chatting to passersby. The naked toddler mostly plays happily, sometimes cries. I pick starfruit from the tree at the end of our veranda, as do the neighbours from their side of the fence.

Neighbourhood buai stall

Next to the empty yet populated block is a church. It is clean and well kept. Last night there was a gathering there, so I fell asleep to joyful and tuneful singing. Another night I fell asleep to a sermon…something I try not to do when actually in the church! They were not out late, I was in bed early. I struggle to sleep beyond sunrise here, so choose to go to bed early instead.

Patchwork houses

Across the road are the back of patchwork houses crowded around the edge of a property. At night I could see their fires and smell the burning rubbish. I see a lady cooking, a man going to wash, a string of clothing out to dry. Bananas and buai grow in the limited space available.

Behind us are some half built houses. It sounds like someone is working on them today. With the cut grass and pile of gravel it seems to be a project that is progressing, not one of the many abandoned half finished projects I see around the country.

Not far away are the shops. Each one has much the same inside it. Crackers, rice, sugar, tea, coffee, milk powder, flour, 2 min noodles, tinned fish, canned pork or beef, salt, msg…all the basics plus a few other things. If you see something you like, buy it while you can, as it may not be back for a very long time. These stores are often run by ‘Asians’ (Philipino, Indian, Chinese) who keep things running but there is a common bias against them. The fresh produce market is a bit further away and features lobster from K2 (A$1) each; a cheaper, fresher and tastier option that the tinned fish at the store.

Starfruit

Skinny dogs wander the streets. They are generally ignored, but should you hit one with your car, it suddenly becomes someone’s precious animal and compensation is demanded. The streets of Kavieng, like Alotau, are much cleaner than the Highlands towns I’ve been to recently. There the rubbish piles up, gets set on fire, but is never really cleared away. There is even less Buai spit on the streets here, although the trademark red splatters are still around. If this cleanliness is the product of a smaller population, different regulations or different cultures, I do not know.

In one empty block I saw kids kicking a football, Aussie Rules style. This was surprising, as the usual question is ‘Blues or Maroons?’…a question I did not know the meaning of the first time I heard it, and it refers to an Australian competition. Competitive sport never was my thing!

New houses over the back fence

The road out front is normal and pot holed. People cut across an empty lot to avoid the worst of the holes, but there is no smooth route. Most people travel by foot anyway, shaded by their umbrellas, carrying cargo on bilums hung from their heads.

It is good to be back in town, back in another slice of PNG. Each place has its own feel, which is what makes this the land of the unexpected. 

Flight to New Ireland

Yonki Dam overflowing

Aviation had had a challenging week. A MedEvac and waiting for a spare part from the US reduced the fleet of planes from three to one. The extra hours of flying to cover the schedule then pushed that one to its 100hr service sooner than planned, the same happening to the MedEvac plane, meaning a completely rewritten schedule and no planes at all on the Tuesday. By the time our flight was due Wednesday morning, we were pleased to have a plane and still be on the schedule.

Morning Clouds

My 6am pick up arrived at 5.30am, so I rushed about the house putting my last things together and feeding a surprised cat. I expect she tried the neighbours for second breakfast at her more usual feeding time. Out at aviation we weighed our cargo and ourselves, so that the pilot knew his loading and administration knew what to charge us. Also at aviation were those catching the flight to Port Moresby and connecting home to Australia for grandchildren and a conference, or home to the US for a few years to complete a Masters degree.

Morning Shadows

The others on my flight were my other neighbours (not the cat feeders) going out to their remote island to work on translation for six weeks. It looked like I might get to see their airstrip, as the loading was light enough for us to fly direct, depending on wind conditions. Once they land, they still have to find a dinghy to take them across to their actual village, but this is much more direct than the 12 hours on a boat from Kavieng that is the alternative.

We were surprised when the pilot-who lives across the road, a truly local flight- asked us to board early. There was a last minute rush on the toilets, as you just have to hold on after that. As we were flying over water we had the ditch-at-sea safety briefing, put our inflatable life jackets on and got settled into our seats. By this time the fog had settled again, not burnt off as the pilot earlier expected, so we waited another half hour before take off.

River beds old and new

Rising out of the valley the gardens grow smaller and smaller until they are just a wobbly checkerboard on the hillside. Ukarumpa stands out for being a western style town surrounded by villages. Neat roads and gardens, tin rooves all around. It rained heavily the night before we flew and this was evident in the rivers we flew over. They rushed along, white water capping the muddy brown, grasses on the banks bent with the flow. Yonki Dam in the next valley was so full that the overflow was white with water rushing down.

As the morning was still early, the low sun made the clouds shine and glimmer where they fringed the ridges and look like snow where they filled the valleys. Where the sun broke through to the ground, sharp shadows were cast along ridges and gulleys, making an already bold landscape even stronger.

Spot the villages

Deep gulllies and rippling canopies

Landslide scar

It did not take long and we were out of the Owen Stanley Range and above the Ramu valley. This strip of flat land seems so thin with ranges towering on either side. Looking to port I could see the neat grid of oil palm plantations. To starboard the clouds formed banks and waves. As we crossed the river it was clear that there had not been much rain on the Finisterre side of the valley as the rivers ran slowly, weaving a path through a wide but empty bed. Erosion along the riverbank showed where previous floods had worn away at the landscape. The volume of water that must flow at those times is fearsome. Such a flood recently took out a significant bridge with the boulders it pushed along so easily.

Pilot paperwork

Eye to eye with a mountain top

Over the Finisterre Range and the landscape is steep and dramatic once more. The windward slope of a mountain can be bare and eroding while the lee is thick with jungle. The ridge between the two is sharp. Although you cannot see the ground below, where locals know the hidden paths, the topography is revealed by the canopy, which reflects the gullies and rises. Villages perch in precarious locations, with deep gullies between neighbouring settlements.

Suddenly, the coast

On a plateau there is a bigger village, an airstrip, probably a school, maybe an aidpost. The plateau finishes in a cliff with a river far below. This is a changing landscape. Torrential rain, earthquakes and volcanoes are forever reshaping it. Water carves out deep gullies with waterfalls disappearing into their depths. I later see an enormous landslide, probably triggered by one of the many earthquakes in this region.

Nearing 11,000 ft above sea level, we look eye to eye with the top of a mountain that we pass. The pilot glances at his gauges and displays and returns to this paperwork. We are on track and the mountain is not a concern.

Changing coastlines

Cumulus Tower

Giant seaweed creek

Suddenly we have cleared the Finisterre Ranges and are over the Rai Coast, flat land forming a border between mountain and sea. Most of this is grassland, but in the gullies there is darker growth. From on high these streams leading to the sea look like enormous pieces of seaweed beached on the shore. The flatland shows where ancient coastlines lay. Whether falling seas or rising tectonic plates have caused the move I do not know. Both are possible.

Fluffy Icing

Smooth icing

Volcanic Icing

Over the water now we can see several small islands, probably volcanic. We go around a cumulus tower and find a small amount of turbulence, otherwise it is a smooth flight. The pilot has completed his calculations and tells us that we will go first to Kavieng, then he’ll take the Brownies on to their strip. I has hoped to see their area, but am not disappointed at less flying time.

Clouds gather around island mountain tops. Sometimes they are a smooth icing, other times a decorative fluff. One I thought was like a delicate veil was actually coming from the mountain, as a closer look revealed a volcano beneath. From this height, one of the volcanoes looked like an ant mound.

We are now properly over the water, with islands in sight, but not close enough to enjoy. We’ve also risen above 11,000ft and the pilot has put on his oxygen to ensure he stays alert. Passengers  don’t get extra oxygen, making this a good time to snuggle into my pillow and catch up on sleep from the early start. I wake when I feel the plane banking; I can see on the chart we’ve made the turn for New Ireland, so go back to snoozing.

Kavieng blue

Coral trim

I next wake when I feel the plan starting to descend. New Ireland lies long, low and skinny on the horizon. Islands below are trimmed with coral reefs; this is a known dive location. We circle Kavieng, fringed around the airport and the coast. The plane feels small, landing on a big tarmac and stopping across from the Air Niugini plane, but it has got us here, and that is big enough for me.

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