Tiang Sunday School Workshop

Teaching editing and back translation

Heading to New Ireland to run Sunday School material production workshops with the Tiang, we knew little more about what we were doing than the start of this sentence suggests. We did not know how many people were coming, what education they had, what they had already completed or prepared or what they were expecting of us. We came with our computers loaded with resources and an openness to whatever this unexpected land might serve us this time. Between the experiences and resources of Catherine and I, we really could have run any of a dozen workshops.

Typing up drafts

As it turned out, 14 people came from Djaul island to work on Sunday School material production with education from 6^th grade to teachers college. The book we thought we were doing they had completed already and the draft they had ready for us we thought was already finished and printed.

The material we were working with was created by another translator in New Ireland and then provided for others to use in whatever language they chose to translate it into. Each lesson featured a story and some questions or activities. These were largely paper based, to encourage literacy in the vernacular. The people we were working with had asked for ways to have less paper based activities as they often had no paper or pencils available. This became one of the challenges of the workshop.

Tiang at work

We taught translation skills, reviewed the alphabet, reviewed punctuation, taught editing skills and generally encouraged a lot of work in a language we could not understand. Editing can be a challenge, when people do not want to change the work of someone else in case they shame them, yet among the group were some very good editors. Another challenge was spelling, for there is not a lot of printed material in Tiang so spelling is not always established. I often thought of the many spelling Shakespeare used for his own name as words were edited back and forth between the same two options.

While the Tiang translated and edited, Catherine and I typed all their drafts and later entered the corrections. Typing a language you do not know is a challenge, but after a few days our typing improved, as we learnt which consonant clusters did or did not exist and what the correct spelling of more common words were. It reached a point where we would correct the spelling of some words automatically, as we’d seen the edit enough times elsewhere.

Advisor checking

The stage of material production which I enjoyed the most was the advisor checks, when Catherine and I each sat down with a small group to read through the story, ask questions and discuss the activities. In many ways it became a time of Bible study and teaching, as we discussed the important distinctions and points in the text to make sure that they were clear. We talked through the activities, both encouraging literacy when paper and pen were available and discussing non-paper alternatives to the activities.

The Sunday school books in other languages

Due to prior commitments, I left half way through the workshop time, leaving the second week, the bulk of the advisor checks and all the printing to Catherine and the Tiang team. It was good to have been there for the bulk of the teaching and to have enjoyed the welcome of another people group. 

Meri Blaus

Traditional women’s wear in PNG in the ‘time before’ was topless with a grass skirt (with regional variations). This is still worn for traditional dances and ceremonies, although often with a bra, and can cause cross cultural tension when the postal services of other nations refuse to deliver mail because of the pictures of bare breasted women on the postage stamps.

Traditional women’s wear since the colonial era has been the meri blaus and a laplap (sarong) or skirt. The meri blaus is a long, colourful shapeless top that is all purpose and has been described as ‘the worst of pregnancy wear.’ In fact, it can be worn before, during and after pregnancy, including while breastfeeding a toddler, without showing any extra flesh.

I’ve also heard it said that a meri blaus compliments no-one, yet when three of us went shopping around Kavieng town, each dressed in a meri blaus, we had an embarrassingly constant stream of compliments from strangers in every shop and as we walked along the road. These compliments to me captured what I like about the meri blaus; they do not emphasise what you look like, but who you are.

To wear a meri blaus is not to flatter your body shape, but to disguise it. The statement it does make is that we are here to be part of the culture, not to force it to confirm to our own ways. People complimented our meri blaus because they appreciated us making the effort to belong. With our white skin we will always stand out, but wearing the meri blaus is one way we can choose to belong.

The meri blaus can also express belonging when it is used as a uniform. A ladies guild will all have a matching meri blaus that they will wear for meetings or service activities. Matching laplaps will be printed for special occasions. Meri blaus designs and colours will be patterned on the regional or national flag. In some areas it is important to wear a white or near white meri blaus to church on a Sunday. In some regions the meri blaus is sleeveless, in others it is sleeved…with puffy sleeves to rival the 80s.

Another advantage of the meri blaus, is that you are always appropriately dressed for whatever the day may hold. I was glad to have put a meri blaus on one morning, when in the afternoon I found myself on the Bishop’s VIP guest list for a fancy ceremony to dedicate a fuel pump (more on that another day!). All the other female guests were in their meri blaus, so this way I fitted in with the crowd.

Meri blauses

For all my praise of the meri blaus, I will also admit to mostly wearing it in regional locations and still quite enjoying more fitted clothing when in my own community. I also admit to preferring to match my meri blaus and skirt rather than join in with some of the eye boggling clashes of colour and pattern I have seen along the way. Yet as my wardrobe of ‘village’ and ‘home’ clothes slowly expands (the danger of a sewing machine), I shall continue to value the meri blaus as an item of clothing that does not depend on what people look like, but who they are; a pleasant change from the dress code of my own nation.

Tigak Hymn Books

When George Brown came to New Ireland with a team of Fijian Methodist missionaries in 1875, he brought with him the Methodist Hymn Book. It was first translated into one local language, but has since found its way into many more. So it was that we found ourselves with two days to help Miskum and the Tigak translation team to edit and format the hymn book in their language… or at least the 209 songs they have translated so far. There are 235 more that they’d also like to turn to Tigak.

The Tiang version of the Hymn Book

As we edited and formatted we regularly referred to the original Kuanua Hymn Book. Miskum had been singing from it for many years and the pages were soft and fabric-like from all the years of page turning. Filed among the pages were receipts, bulletins, sermon notes and Bible quotes. It was clearly a well loved book.

Many Tigak had been involved in translating songs for their hymn book. Many different people had assisted them with entering these hand written songs into the computer and with updating it as more songs were completed and corrections came to light. With a shortage of our staff available to assist with this project, people had helped where they were able, just as we were coming in late in the project to give a few days of help.

I do not know if any computer program is designed for formatting hymn books, but certainly none of them are designed for coping with multiple stages and the efforts of multiple contributors. We found ourselves fighting the computers and resisting swearing when they mysteriously undid or auto-corrupted our carefully laid plans. In the end though, we had a pdf and could print off a final draft.

A few more corrections to enter...

We printed and roughly bound the hymn book at the end of our second day. On giving it to the patiently waiting Miskum he was clearly touched by holding this final draft, complete and almost looking like a real book. He took it away and showed it to people he met in town. He found us the next day with a few more corrections and a week later found us again to request a change of picture for the cover. Clearly he was sharing it with people, getting feedback and receiving much interest.

 Now it is someone else’s job to organise the printing, but it was a privilege to help the Tigak team get to this stage. As we worked our way through the book we recognised the English names of many tunes for they were part of our traditions too. Although sometimes we muttered at the computers, more often we were found humming hymns, as familiar names came up on the screen. I take joy in knowing that so many languages around the world can sing in their own heart language ‘How Great Thou Art,’ and mean it.

Here today, gone tomorrow

The life of a single, unassigned linguist is a varied one that involves rarely staying in one place for too long. Being unassigned to a language project long term, I am free to help with various projects and workshops in different parts of the country. Being single also gives me the freedom to come and go in a way that families and couples cannot.

May started and ended for me in New Ireland. At the start of the month I was at NITI and at the end of the month running a Sunday School materials workshop in Kavieng. In between, I had three weeks back at Ukarumpa. Three weeks in which to unpack, clean and wind down from the trip to NITI, to catch up with office work that had been left unattended, to relax with sewing and reading, to send out my newsletter, to welcome newcomers from orientation, to farewell a friend ‘going finish’, to enjoy the company of a visiting friend, to catch up with local friends, to attend a lecture by a visiting linguist and to prepare and pack for my next six weeks away. It was a busy time.

A common conversation at the store, church or along the road went;

 ‘I’ve not seen you in awhile’
‘I was away until about week ago’

‘We should catch up’
 ‘Yes, but I leave in a little over a week.’

Another comment I’ve heard more than once is that I’ve seen a lot more of the country in 14 months than many people have after years living and working in PNG. It is true that in assisting with various programmes and workshops in many places I have been exposed to all sorts of cultural and geographical variations. It has been a privilege, but it has a cost.

When I am away, I often work long days, up to seven days a week. When not working, but in a village situation, you are still in the public eye and not truly off duty. Being away takes a lot of planning and preparation. I am very thankful for the willingness of my neighbours to feed my cat in my absence. Communication is harder when away because email is slow and expensive, and phones may or may not work.

Coming and going has other challenges. This time I am going to three locations in six weeks with five different roles. Packing for each of these, without bringing the whole house with me, was interesting! In each place I learn a new set of greetings, make a new set of friends and then move on. Meanwhile, I miss out on the daily interactions of Ukarumpa life which hold together friendships there. I am thankful for my Bible study group who like to hear from me each week and email back their updates and prayer requests so that I am still connected.

Please don’t think I’m whining. I truly do enjoy the work I do and the privilege of helping so many language groups move forward in their work. I am just trying to paint a slightly more realistic picture of what life can be like. If it seems like my time at Ukarumpa is crazy busy… sometimes it is. If it seems like my time at Ukarumpa is ‘sindaun nating’… sometimes it is that too, as I catch up on weekends and rest that I could not have while away.

In the future I hope to find a translation partner and settle into long term work in a single language project. Then I will be able to learn the language properly and build lasting relationships. I will still come and go from Ukarumpa, but it will be to one place where I have an established base, rather than living out of my backpack. Until then, I will acknowledge the privilege I have in the varied work I do and willingly accept the challenges that go with that.