Daily Downtime

After detailing the exhausting work of language learning, it seems appropriate to let you know one of the ways in which I practice self care and attempt to prevent burn out. Language learning is exhausting, village life is tiring, being on show is frustrating and looking after myself is necessary. One of the primary ways I do this is by having my daily downtime, or afternoon nap.

Each day at lunchtime I retreat to my room for a simple lunch of crackers and spreads. Mostly this is peanut paste and jam, but I also take with a jar of nutella to have one chocolaty cracker per day. It’s amazing what a daily chocolate dose can do for my morale, and so far the ants have not yet broken into my sacred stash. There may well be tears if they ever do.

Noticing moments of beauty and enjoying them renews me.

After lunch I lie down on my bed to relax. I spend much of each day sitting on the floor, and a middle of the day back stretch and relax is mighty helpful. Sometimes I fall asleep, but mostly not. I put my earphones in, turn my music on, shut my eyes and tune out the village for a little while. My mosquito net is my fortress and for an hour or two I am somewhat removed from the stresses around me.

Often I listen to worship music on my phone. Hearing favourite songs with Godly words reminds me of why I am in the swamp in the first place. I am not here for credit or riches, but because I feel called to serve and answer a need. Listening to worship music also reminds me that God is much bigger than my problems, fears and stresses, and to hand them all back rather than worrying myself. This afternoon quiet time is a good time for prayer.

Feeling watched? A crowd waving us off from Teredau.

I pray a lot more in the village than elsewhere. God is the only one I can honestly tell exactly what I am thinking without causing offence. God is also the only one able to solve the challenges of village life. All my other communication in a day is limited by cultural and language barriers. Prayer has no such barriers.

Sometimes I use my down time to write letters, write in my journal or to do puzzle books. I have a mix of crosswords, cryptic crosswords, number puzzles and word puzzles. For someone who is claiming brain exhaustion, puzzling may seem an odd way to relax. What is does is gives me something to puzzle over that I am competent at and restores my confidence that I am indeed an intelligent adult who is able to solve problems. Language learning can be disillusioning, so this sort of encouragement goes a long way.

My sanctuary.

Retreating in the middle of each day allows me to introvert. For me, relationships take energy while time alone renews my energy. Village relationships take lots of energy, as I am still learning how to relate well in the culture around me. I am trying to learn a new set of social cues and this takes focus. I am often confused and this drains me. Even with my daily village introversion time, I still return to Ukarumpa and act like a hermit for a week or two before I’ve really recovered. 

Rest, retreat, music, prayer, puzzles and chocolate. These are the main elements of my daily downtime and how I try to manage my energy levels in the village. Learning how to live well in the village is a work in progress, but this is one step in the right direction.

Privilege

Recent events have reminded me of what it means to be among the privileged people in our world and to be thankful for being born among the ‘haves’ rather than the ‘have-nots’.

There are many ways privilege can be measured, and too often we measure ourselves by what we don’t have, rather than what we do. There will always be someone else with more. When I look at what I do have, I am among the richest and most privileged people not just now, but through all of history. The medieval kings and queens who make for fun fairy tales were not as rich as I.

That which makes me privileged includes:

Health and access to healthcare. It is easy to take health for granted, until you or someone you know is dealing with illness. That I have been healthy most of my life is a blessing. That when I became ill recently (not seriously, but enough to interfere with life) I had access to doctors and medicine was a privilege. In PNG, not everyone has that, at least not without a long journey. Even at the end of the journey to a hospital, there is no guarantee that the staff, equipment or medications will be available to help. When the locals doctors decided I needed to follow things up with specialists, I was able to fly back to Australia and see specialists there. The privilege of having the funding, insurance and passport to be able to do that makes me one of a very small number in this country. Once in Australia I chose to spend money rather than time and go through the private system to get answers sooner. That I had the funds to do this is a privilege.  Even if I had not, the public system in Australia gives high quality health care to those in need, it just might take a while to get to the head of the line if your condition is not critical. We are privileged to have access to such care, access that does not require going into debt.

Education and Literacy. I sit here at my computer, typing my thoughts so that  I can put them on the internet and share them with the world. In a box at my parents’ house I have enough university degrees to allow me to put more letters after my name than I have in it. I have been taught critical thinking and I can engage with the world. These are the big things of literacy and education, but the fact I can read the instructions on the medications from the doctors and ask questions about what they’ve said, are the important everyday applications. So many cannot do this. They have not had enough education to read meaningfully, or even at all, and have not been taught to challenge authority and take control of their own bodies and their own lives. That I can read fluently and think critically makes me privileged. That I can do this as a woman makes me even more privileged.

Safety and Freedom. People always ask me about my safety in PNG. I am safe here, I am careful about my safety, and I am not afraid. Maybe I do not walk about at night on my own or head to local villages on my own, but these are small and manageable things. I can sleep at night without wondering if a war will land a bomb-shell on my house. I don’t worry about drug cartels or gangs, as people do in other places. I can publicly express my faith without fear of persecution. Although my clothing is less revealing than standard Australian wardrobes, there are no laws or religious police who will beat me for choosing to dress otherwise. When others are willing to lose everything, including their lives, for a chance at the level of freedom I live with, I am reminded how privileged I am to live with such safety and freedom.

There is also the security that my faith gives me. I believe that I am a beloved child of God, of intrinsic worth to the Creator of everything. I have stood on the deck of a ship at night, out of sight of land, with an infinity of stars above me and mysterious kilometres of ocean beneath me and known in my deepest being that I am known and loved. I am not a speck lost in an infinite universe. Although I have my ups and downs, I have a hope and joy in life and do not fear death. Dying sounds a bit scary, but death itself does not scare me. This security in life and death is not something everyone knows.

Food, water, shelter. Maybe these things should have come first! At the moment El Nino is causing a drought in PNG. Further up in the Highlands than my base it has also caused frost. When frost kills the gardens of subsistence farmers, they go hungry. When the water in the creeks goes down and becomes dirtier, people still need to drink. That I have a house with warm blankets to sleep under at night, half a tank of rainwater (I’m from Adelaide, I’m practiced at water conservation!) and food in the cupboard, with funds to buy more when needed makes me a privileged person. Not only do I have food to survive on, but food to enjoy, which makes me rich indeed. I do not always appreciate these everyday things as I should.

Community. Although I am single and live alone, I am not really alone. I am part of a network of communities and belonging; here in Ukarumpa, in Gulf Province, in Australia and with friends scattered across the world. I have my moments of loneliness, but the reality is that I have good and loving relationships with many people near and far. Such belonging should not be taken for granted. Many are alone, not knowing their neighbours, having no one to call on, cut off from their families. When I was stressed recently, I had many friends to call on, friends who would rearrange their plans to make time for me when I needed them. I am honoured to call these people my friends and family. It is a privilege I am aware others lack, and that prompts me to reach out to those who are less networked than I.

Meaningful work. This may seem an odd addition to the list, but having recently had a few weeks sick leave, returning to work has reminded me that I enjoy what I do and that this is a privilege. So many just struggle to make ends meet. To not only have regular income, but to be doing something I am skilled at and passionate about it a privilege indeed.

Have-nots. Reflecting on what I don’t have is important in recognising what I do have in two ways. The first is to help me see what I do have, and the other is to help me appreciate what others have. This second path reminds me that privilege takes many shapes and that I should never expect people to be thankful for the exact same things as me. One thing I do not have, which others do, is land. I say this as a reminder of the privilege that the majority of PNGns have in secure access to their land. Although I have much that they don’t have, their life has other good things. 

Sailing in Cairns… Yachts are often depicted as the ultimate expression of privilege. My afternoon of sailing expressed my privilege in that I was healthy enough to go, could read the information to find out how to join in, had the funds to pay for it and as a woman could safely decide to do this if I wanted to. Yep, I’m privileged!

Language Learning Challenges

There are many challenges when it comes to learning another language.

One is that people want to teach your the right and proper way to say things. This can mean long and confusing discussion of what is best to say before I am given a response. It can also mean that I am being taught archaic terms rather than the everyday terms adopted from another language. On numerous occasions I’ve been told, ‘That’s the Motu word, you need to say X’ with the ‘X’ being a word they had to think hard to find as no-one actually uses it in everyday speech. Learning what is Motu is good, as I intend to learn Motu eventually, but knowing what is every day is more useful, as I want to hold everyday conversations.

As English words often slip into Kope conversation, I have occasionally surprised people by understanding more than they expected. When days of the week and place names are mentioned, I can sometimes guess what the plan is without understanding the Kope words that hold it all together. This is not suddenly fluency, just me practicing the detective skills that are a constant part of language learning and analysis.

Dialect differences are a challenge. In both Ubuo and Goiravi, people want me to learn their variety of Kope. These two villages are a 15 minute walk apart, yet they have differences and they are proud of them. This is rather confusing to a beginning learner, so I have been respecting their difference by keeping a list of dialect differences and writing down what they tell me. How we’ll deal with these things when it comes to a written translation is a challenge for another day.

A view along the Mira River from Goiravi, a 15 minute walk
from Ubuo, but already there are dialect differences.

Another challenge is getting people to let me make mistakes and learn slowly. When I try to communicate using my limited understanding, I inevitably end up being corrected with the right way to say things. This can be disillusioning when I just want to try saying something. While it is good to learn correct grammar, just being able to stumble along and communicate without a lecture would also be nice sometimes.

In their enthusiasm to help me learn, I often find myself overwhelmed by the tutoring  I am given at short notice. I will use a phrase that I have learnt, get it right and have it in context, but just as I’m feeling good about having communicated, someone will tell me five others ways I could say the same thing. Just let me learn the simple way first!

One challenge that I come across constantly is that if I have correctly parroted a phrase, or written it down, people consider it permanently learnt. Parroting and writing does not equal completely remembered and able to be heard and used, but people expect that it does. If they know I wrote it down last week, they expect me to remember it this week. Sometimes that is true, but often it is not.

I was given a word list, which meant I was expected

to know and be able to use all the words on it!

Tone is challenging for me, as my ears are still getting tuned to hear it, and it does not seem to be used consistently. I need to both learn to hear and replicate the tone and learn when it matters and when it doesn’t. I am thankful for my recording, that I can listen to and echo, as well as other linguists who take an interest in Kope tone. I’ll happily let them do the tricky analysis and then apply it to my learning.

Finally there are the homonyms, or near homonyms, that confuse the beginning learner. Some of my confusions so far are:

• Mo daradara ka and Mo darudaru ka; The first means I am confused, the second that I am yellow.
• dubui and dubai;  Men or bananas… it pays to know which one you are eating!
• ididi and idi’idi;  Build or black. The cat is black, the cat is not built, nor is it building anything.
• rio-i, rio or ri’o; inside, want or you (plural).  Usually context gives away which one is which, but they’re all common words and they keep me alert.

…and one tongue twister I discovered by accident…

• Ooboi oboboboi da oboi i’ai;  The woman is fetching water from the well. A common occurance in the village and a useful phrase to know, just really hard to say!

Oboboboi ka. A well.

Language Learning Techniques

At this stage in my translation project, my primary goal is language learning. I am blessed to step into a programme where others have gone before me. There are many simple books for teaching children literacy, a picture dictionary, the makings of a longer dictionary and some grammar notes. All of these are invaluable resources that help me to learn, but the bulk of my learning is through immersion. 

The river at Ubuo

There are techniques to help with language learning immersion which I learnt before coming to PNG. I admit to not knowing which teaching philosophies I have picked and chosen from,  I just do what works for me.

When I am in the village, I try to sit down with a local lady five days a week for some structured language learning time. I come prepared with my sketch of a lesson plan outlining the sorts of activities I would like to do and resources to help with this. My resources are generally hand drawn pictures, prompts that enable me to ask questions and elicit responses. Asking ‘How do you say…’ tends to get formulaic responses. Learning key phrases and then using them as I point at my pictures, elicits more natural responses.

As I advance with learning, the questions I can ask and the responses I get will become more complex. At the very beginning, I just had a series of noun pictures, and would get my language assistant to say the name of one and I would point at it. Not very complex, but good practice in hearing and responding. Slowly I added instructions such as ‘pick up’, ‘put down’ and ‘give’, progressing to ‘put in’, ‘put on’ or ‘put under’. As I collect vocabulary, I’ve been making flash cards for myself, to help with the memorisation of new words.

My village picture I use for eliciting words and phrases

In each language learning session I also record things that I have been learning. People get sick of saying the same thing over and over again. My voice recorder does not get bored of repeating itself, allowing me to learn more quickly. This also allows me to bring the recordings back to Ukarumpa with me, where I transcribe them and keep my learning going. As I listen to them in the Highlands, the backing vocals of roosters, children, hammers, kittens, dogs, the school bell and grumbly stomachs reminds me that these really are field recordings, not something polished.

As I progress with my learning, I have been both writing and recording stories. My story writing is very simple at the moment, but it forces me to put together the words and grammar I do know in new ways. I also learn new words when I hit a block in expressing myself and ask for help. When I record stories, I later in the day sit and attempt to transcribe them. In doing so, I am teaching myself to hear word breaks, recognise the changes required by grammar, and learning entirely new words and phrases.

Once a week, if rain or tide have not made the path impassable, I walk 15 minutes to the next village, Goiravi, to learn from the ladies there. Each time I’ve been to Goiravi, a crowd of 10 to 20 women has shown up to help. Learning from that many teachers is nearly impossible! I keep going though, as I have been getting to know a few of the ladies better and they’re great teachers. It is also a good relational exercise, as I make the village feel like they are part of the programme too. Most weeks I think the benefit of my trip is more relational than linguistic, but that is a valid reason to keep going.

Verandah view when language learning in Goiravi

Learning a language by immersion is plain old hard work. I end each day with a tired head of constant listening, decoding and confusion. As I try to communicate anew each day I keep telling myself that I only have to learn the language once and that this level of difficulty will pass. I just hope it passes sooner rather than later!