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.

Jesus Film Dedication Report

The DVD being joyfully dedicated (A.Evers)

The dedication of the Jesus Film in Kope language was a big day and a good day. I’ll be writing about several aspects of it over coming weeks, but first wanted to give a summary of the event.

The highlight for me was in the moments after the circuit minister prayed a dedication prayer and they showed the start of the movie, as a taste of the full thing which would be shown after dark. The thin crowd suddenly swelled as people emerged from shady spots around the fringes of the field to squeeze together in front of the tiny screen. The excitement and joy was beautiful.

Paramount chief, Tompkin (A.Evers)

Even better though was the quiet moment happening between two brothers on the stage behind the screen. They were in full sight of everyone, but few noticed as they were all looking at the screen. Older brother and paramount chief Tompkin, and younger brother and translator Samson stood with tears in their eyes giving each other a hug. They had no words for the emotions overwhelming them as they heard the film start in their language, but they had each other and they understood each other. It was a precious moment to be part of as an observer.

Once the sun was set and the feast was done, we showed the whole film to a large crowd. I’ve no idea how big the crowd was, as my skills at estimating are poor anyway, and dark skinned people in the dark camouflage well. The crowd was big, and the crowd was quiet as they watched attentively. Only the smallest children fell asleep, everyone over six remained transfixed. When the movie finished, they sat in silence for awhile. A pastor then prayed for everyone and they dispersed to their houses, still quite quietly. The silence spoke to me of people reflecting on what they had seen and heard, digesting what it meant for them.

The next day I heard the film being played in different houses and on phones around the village. I also heard that some people had stayed up late the night before to watch the whole thing again. We did a re-screening the next night, to another big crowd. In the coming weeks the film was shown in other villages in the language community.

It is hard to know what the impact of an event like this is, but I find encouragement in the parable of the sower (Luke 8:4-15). The sower scattered seed generously, some of it eventually bearing fruit and some of it not. Showing this film to a big crowd is a generous sowing of the seed which is God’s word. It will have taken root in many hearts, but we may not see the harvest for some time yet as the seed grows to maturity. In other hearts it will not get far, but we will continue to sow generously in the hope that eventually those hearts are fertile enough to receive. 

A crowd gathers (D.Petterson)

Gemu Ray

I seem to accumulate family wherever I go. This has the wonderful effect of always belonging, but the harder effect of always being away from people you love.

In my recent trip to Gulf Province to start connecting there, I was adopted into a Kope family, the Aumaries. Although Aumarie himself is dead, I have a mama and plenty of brothers, sisters and kids to belong to. They look after me, giving me a place, identity and responsibilities, and I reciprocate that care.

It’s going to take me awhile to learn who my family is and how to best relate to them, as I have well over a dozen village-siblings and I’m still learning about the responsibilities of PNG relationships. There are also lots of first cousins who classify as siblings. Add in generational complexities and in-family adoptions, and I have an enormous number of family.  Still, it is good to belong.

My new family are all over PNG, working and studying in various roles and places. I doubt I’ll ever meet some of them, but we are still part of the same family.

Part of being adopted into the family was that I was given a village name, Gemu. This is the same village name as one of my sisters, a teacher in Goroka that I’ve not met. At the same time, people were struggling with the ‘sch’ at the start of my name, as it is not said like the ‘sch’ at the start of school. An easy solution to this is to use my father’s name for my surname, as everyone else does. All of a sudden, I had a totally new name: Gemu Ray.

It might take me awhile to remember to answer to that!

With my Mama, sister, niece, two sister-in-law and nephew.
I mentioned complex generations… the two babies in this photo are related
because the great-grandma of one is the sister to the father of the other!

Day #1

Talking at church in Kapuna before heading to Ubuo
(D.Petterson)

‘They’ (whoever ‘they’ are!) say that each day is the first day of the rest of your life. In many ways I subscribe to this and can be a Grinch about New Year’s celebrations because the timing is so arbitrary. On the other hand, I recently experienced the sort of day which really did seem like the start of the rest of my life.

Sunday February 22 was the day. It was the day I went to Ubuo village to start the relationship building and language learning that will (hopefully!) be the foundation of my work and life for years to come.

Until now, my village trips have all been for no more than a few weeks, with the next trip being to a different place. Relationships have all been short term and language learning has not progressed beyond polite greetings. This arrival was the start of the long term. I was thankful that Robbie and Debbie, who already have strong local relationships, were with me to smooth the way.

Our cargo pile on arrival at Ubuo (R.Petterson)

The day started with a low tide, meaning we could not leave until late morning. This gave us time to go to church at Kapuna Hospital before we left. The Kapuna crew were all very excited about this new start to a ministry in their area and sent me out with much prayer and encouragement as their missionary. Being sent locally, as well as internationally, is so encouraging to me as it shows that there is local ownership of my work and that it is not just my clever idea.

As we wound along the rivers to Ubuo, we stopped to visit people in Baimuru and Era Kiti. My GPS tracker says we did 64km. The journey felt longer, partly because of the stops, mostly because of my awareness that this trip signified the start of something new, something I’d been looking forward to for a long time.

Spending time with my village family (D.Petterson)

Our arrival in Ubuo was friendly and low key… the way I like things to be! We had meetings in the house where we were staying and in the church to talk about what me joining the community meant. We talked about how it will take me a while to learn Kope, but that while they are helping me learn, I can be helping them with translation. The helping will need to be mutual to be successful. We also talked about this translation being for all of the Kope people, and not just for Ubuo, and that at times I will spend time visiting the other villages. Smiles, handshakes and more names than I can remember, but a good start in what is now my other home.

Soon I was adopted into the Aumarie family, meaning I have more brothers and sisters than I can keep track of, but a place to belong. In the week we were there I enjoyed getting to know some of my new family and had loving hugs from them when I left.

Day one in Ubuo village, Kope language… the first day of the rest of my life.

Ubuo from the river (H.Schulz)