Djaul Island

Ready to depart for Djaul, which is just
visible on the horizon. (H.Schulz)

Our two weeks on Djaul Island were two weeks in a picture perfect corner of paradise! I’m not saying that everyone’s life on Djaul is perfect, as they have the same troubles as people anywhere, but that it is the sort of stunningly beautiful place that postcards and calendars are made of… the picture of paradise. My photos do not do it justice.

It was about a 50 minute dinghy ride from the mainland to Djaul. We travelled on a day with light winds and seas around half a metre, so it was a comfortable ride. The water was so clear that we could see the coral reefs beneath us that had to be navigated close to shore and could even see the fish in the water.

The coral is what eventually becomes the sand, so the beaches were bright white. When we had time to go snorkelling on Saturday, we got close and personal with the multitude of beautiful fish and the range of coral growth.

The beach on Djaul Island. It is whiter
when in direct sunlight. (I.Glissmann)

We also taste tested a range of the marine creatures, as we were served crab and (sadly) turtle as well as fish, fish and more fish during our time on Djaul. This was accompanied by sago, taro, rice, bananas and greens. Our daily intake of a kulau (green coconut) or two kept us from dehydrating in the humidity. The people provided so much food for us that we were joking that we’d have to increase our kg booking for the plane going home!

The daily feasting was just one part of the warm welcome we were given.

Catch of the day (I.Glissmann)

The day after we arrived we went to a big combined church service in a neighbouring village, riding there in our VIP transport, the ambulance. The songs, the handshakes, the flowers, the food… all of it made clear that we were very much welcome.

The church was packed, so the kids were all sitting on the floor at the front, with a supervisor to keep them in line. The supervisor had a big stick, not for hitting kids, but for poking them gently when they needed keeping in line, and to wake up the one kid who fell asleep during the extended prayer time. As we were sitting in the front row, we were closely watched by the children through the whole service, and nearly deafened by their strong and passionate singing.

Orchids. 

Our host parents while we were on Djaul were the Reverend and his wife. In the United Church system, this is a role of great responsibility and respect. Reverend James was responsible for the whole of the Djaul circuit, including the Pastors and Deacons also serving there. With him as our ‘waspapa’ (host father), we were being placed in a position of respect.

Djaul is a beautiful place, there is no doubt about that, but even more beautiful was the welcome that we were given. 

Tiang Sunday School Workshop II

The Tigak team working on their translation (H.Schulz)

This year’s trip to New Ireland echoed and expanded on my trip last year. Both times we followed up Tigak hymns with Tiang Sunday School materials. Last year we ran a Sunday School workshop on the main island of New Ireland. This year we went out to Djaul Island and ran the workshop in a Tiang village, Piliwa. We expanded the team as well as the workshop, going from two coordinators  to five and inviting all the villages on the island, which includes two Tigak villages. Not only did we do Sunday School materials production, but we also did teacher training for the Sunday School teachers. All in all it was a full but good time.

Our workshop venue (the
open sides catch the breeze nicely)
and our VIP transport- the ambulance
(H.Schulz)

Each morning we started our workshop with a devotion and a time of translation skills training. Each language community was working on translating a different book of Sunday School stories and activities. The Tigak were starting with Genesis and the Tiang were onto book 3, the Israelites in Canaan. We taught the skills to translate the material and then we put them into practice. Each language divided into smaller work groups that drafted, edited, back translated and checked their work. As workshop coordinators we circulated among the groups, helping as needed and doing all the typing as drafts were completed, edits readied for entering and the final product ready for formatting.

Each afternoon we would return from lunch with a time of teaching the teachers. Many of these teachers had had little training, so appreciated anything we could share with them. We taught using dramas and games, in both the morning and the afternoon sessions, and enjoyed seeing people catch on to new ideas and gain deeper understanding. In teaching games, everyone was involved. It was hilarious to see mature adults enjoying duck-duck-goose as much as any kids I’ve ever seen!

 Our amazing house! (R.Drew)

Over the course of two weeks, with about 40 Tiang and 7 Tigak attending the workshop every day, we completed the entire Tiang book and half the Tigak book. As we were at the far end of the island to where the Tigak live, there were fewer of them at the workshop and they’d done an amazing job of getting that much work done. Since then they’ve drafted the rest of the book and it waits to be seen when checking, editing and printing can be completed. The work that was completed during the workshop we already printed in Kavieng and should be back with the people by now.

The day we left the ambulance
was not available, so we all piled
onto the tractor’s trailer with our
cargo and rode to the beach
that way (S.Pederson)

Village workshops are always full of unknowns. Some things are normal, such as that the workshop will include at least one chicken, some flea-bitten puppies, a pig or two and some half naked toddlers. Other things, like the gift of a regulator from a Kavieng businessman and a reliably working village generator  are extra blessings. Then there is the entirely unexpected, like living in a new house that was fancier than almost any other village house I’ve seen, having a generator there at night and being transported about in the ambulance (one of only a few vehicles on the island- it was real VIP treatment)… these things are the icing on the cake! We were so very blessed by the people of Djaul, and hope that through our training we were also a blessing to them.

Workshop group photo (R.Drew)

In saying ‘yes’ to one place and one project I am by necessity saying ‘no’ to many other people and places. In saying ‘yes’ to working alone, I am effectively saying ‘no’ to the work partnerships that had been discussed. We are parting ways as friends and colleagues and the door is open to future team work options, but at this point it is ‘no’ to continuing to wait for others and ‘yes’ to going now and going alone.

Learning to say ‘no’ is as important as learning to say ‘yes’, and it takes discipline. In the world, and in the organisation  I work with, there are far more needs than there are hours in the day or workers in the field. Even when prioritised, there are often still more significant needs than available people…and ‘significant’ is a slippery term that each person measures differently.

Learning to hear someone else’s ‘no’ is as important as learning to say my own ‘no’. If I want people to respect my ‘no’ to their urgent priority, then I need to hear the ‘no’ of others to my urgent request. I hope that people respect that when I say ‘no’ it is because I have listened, reflected and decided. I do not say ‘no’ to cause pain, but because it seems the best path from the place in which I am making the decision. I hope that I return the respect when someone else’s ‘no’ is returned to me on a different matter at another time.

Learning to say ‘yes’ to things I don’t like but can see the value of and can make the time for is as important as being able to say ‘no’ to similar things. To balance the needs of others with my own, to sometimes do the unpleasant job that needs to be done, to take on the dull job that everyone is avoiding, to recognise that some things simply need doing if we want the whole to progress… I need to sometimes say ‘yes’, yet other times say ‘no’.

The spiritual discipline of ‘no’ and the spiritual discipline of ‘yes’. They are things that I am working on and things that I have had to practise a lot this year. I expect I will be a lifelong learner in this field, as saying ‘no’ or saying ‘yes’ is not always as easy as I would like. 

Yes!

Over the last year I’ve written blog posts on the various aspects of making a decision about where to work long term in PNG. The country is vast, complex and there are many communities requesting help with translation and literacy, and I am but one person.

The discernment journey has meant thinking about what I mean by ‘call’. It has meant reflecting on what it means to be a single  person in this work, discussing partnership and exploring the option of a bigger team. There has been plenty of research, discussion, prayer and exploration. In the last few months I have visited both GulfProvince and New Ireland to spend time with potential projects. Finally, I have reached a decision.

That decision is to work in Gulf Province long term. This will be work that is alone but not alone. After all the discussions of partnerships and teams, the reality of life events and timing is such that  I am the only one going in a Gulf direction. At the same time, it is not alone, as I have friends working in that region. I may end up the only expat in a village, but I’ll have expat friends in the region, will soon have local friends in the village and know there is always Immanuel. So I’ll be working alone, but not alone.

I have been blessed with a real sense of peace about both the place and about stepping out on my own. For a long time I had little peace about working solo, so this change of heart is not of my own doing. There will be challenges in the aloneness and I’ll have to be deliberate about self care. There will also be blessings as I will have to build closer local relationships and will have more intense times of language learning.

Currently, the Pettersons are the only language workers for a cluster of about twelve languages in that area. They do an amazing amount of work in literacy and in translating the Jesus Film. I’ll be joining their project, initially by working with the Kope people in Ubuo village. There was an expat translator and a local translation team  there in the 1980s, but various factors meant that the work stopped, although bug-eaten drafts of portions of Acts and Mark remain. Last week these people finished recording the Jesus Film, so there is also new momentum and interest in translation.

Old drafts, new momentum… this is the place where things are happening and it is coming together as the place for me to move. The idea is that I move to their area, learn their language and support the community in reaching their translation goal through training, encouragement and advisor work. Their goal may be the Gospel of Luke plus Acts, building on the Jesus Film script and the drafts from decades ago, but these things are still to be established.

In years to come, as their initial goal is met, we will see what the next step is. Kope is closely related to Anagibi, Urama and Gibaio. Some call them dialects of each other, the locals consider them to be distinct languages. Maybe in the future I can work with these groups as well. Maybe neighbouring languages will also be inspired and things will move to more of a training focus. Maybe…maybe…maybe I should wait a few years and see what is happening before making plans, but the needs and opportunities in the area mean that there will be plenty of work for many years yet.