The Event

After the big welcome to all the guests and a rest, we returned to the stage for the official dedication of the Jesus Film. By now it was late afternoon and the bite had gone from the sun. That is not to say it was cool, just hot and sweaty instead of meltingly hot and sweaty. This was a good thing for me as by then I was in a costume.

Being dressed in my new outfit (A.Evers)

I had been told that I was the ‘mother of the feast’ and as such I needed to be traditionally dressed. The chief’s wife had measured me the day before to create a skirt and top for me and that afternoon she and her husband came around to put them on me. They tied them over my clothes and then trimmed the top to fit. This meant a pile of grass gathering around my feet as the excess was cut off from the top. They also tied two festive shell bracelets onto my wrists. Being dressed in this way, in traditional clothes put on me by the chief and his wife, was a beautiful moment of adoption. In so many ways the Kope tribe has taken me in, but in this moment I very much became their daughter.

The amazing bird of paradise head-dress (A.Evers)

My costume was nothing though, in comparison to the chief and his wife. Tompkin is paramount chief over upper Kope, an area of four villages. Over his neat trousers and collared shirt he wore so many bands of shells that he made gentle music as he walked. On his head was an impressive headdress of feathers with a decorative band of shells. He certainly wore the most shells of anyone on the day. His wife also had the most amazing headdress out of all the women. Hers was topped with a rust coloured bird of paradise that her son in law had caught for her. The beautiful feathers shone in the sun as she smiled out from underneath it.

At the official dedication in the afternoon there was the usual collection of speeches. Most people kept it short and to the point, although there was at least one who took the moment to do some politicking. Eventually there was the dedication prayer, the showing of the first few minutes of the film and the promise of the full film once it was dark enough to project onto a big screen (aka bed sheet). There was also a very special event which I’ll write about next week before people dispersed to prepare their feast food and return.

The gathered crowd (A.Evers)

As the evening grew dark, people started claiming their places near the screen. We waited on the stage for our part in the feast and the wait was well worth it. I am not the first Kope daughter from Adelaide. A while ago a Kope man married an Adelaide woman and although they have separated and he has returned to PNG, his children are all still in South Australia. Two of them are cooks, and I don’t know if they learnt from their father or their father learnt from then, but either way, this man knows how to cook! I’ve since learnt that his two assistants for the day were people who have also worked in a company camp kitchen and in hotel kitchens in Port Moresby. It’s amazing what skills and histories are living quietly in the village. Between these three men, we were served village gourmet food and everyone appreciated it.

Setting up the projector (A.Evers)

Food done and plates cleared (put in a bucket to take home and wash later), it was time for the film showing. We were blessed with very few technical hitches, as the sound system, generator, dodgy looking extension cords and my projector that keeps resetting itself to Chinese all worked together well. The crowd stretched back into the darkness, all eyes focussed on the screen. Around me near the front were little children watching wide eyed. My Kope is not yet good enough to follow the words, but the story is familiar and I followed the images instead. Even then, I find this story that I have known my whole life confronting to see illustrated in this way.

As the film finished there was silence as the crowd stayed still and thoughtful. Someone prayed and dismissed everyone, but even as they walked away, the thoughtfulness remained.

I returned to my house with the last few visitors who had made it to the end of the film. As they had all had an early start and did not understand the language, many of them had quietly gone to bed once they had seen the crowd transfixed by the film. I wove my way among the mosquito nets and sleeping bodies filling my veranda and living area until I found my way to the sanctuary of my own mosquito net and mattress. Untangling myself from a grass skirt and top, I fell into bed exhausted and happy.