Jesus Film: The Arrival

Part one of the Jesus Film Dedication celebrations (aka ‘the programme’) was the arrival and welcome of special guests. Five had arrived from Kapuna on Thursday, the other ten landed at Teredau airstrip the morning of the dedication. We had gone up in two boats to meet them and although we made good time the tide was well on its way out by the time we reached Mira Goiravi, the official welcoming destination.

Uphill mud slide! (D.Petterson)

The low water was a problem, as there was now a long stretch of mud to cross before we would reach a log walkway to dry land. All the guests were taking off shoes and rolling up trousers, getting ready to get muddy, but another solution was being hatched. We were all to get into one boat that the young men would then push across the mud to the landing point. None of us believed it was possible, but we followed instructions and loaded into one boat. Twenty five people were in one boat, waiting to see if it would work.

Well, Jesus walked on water and I’ve now been in a boat gliding across land. The boat may have been pushed by a team of strong young men, so it is not a miracle, but it was still a wondrous sight to behold. The mud acted as a lubricant and the boat glided along beautifully, with us clean and dry inside.

Arriving in Goiravi (R.Petterson)

I was given the role of being first off the boat and first along the path. It was a bit intimidating, stepping off to a traditionally dressed warrior dancing on the log in front of me, with a crowd watching from the bank. As I reached the bank, I led us all through an avenue of people who laid down banana leaves and palm branches for us to walk on. A wreath of flowers was hung around my neck and a crown of flowers put on my head. I shook hundreds of hands welcoming us.

As I followed the avenue, there was a group of women demonstrating fishing with nets and traps. Doing as I was told, I stepped into the barramundi trap, which was then raised from my feet to over my head with a great ‘Hurrah!’ I could hear the hurrahs continuing behind me as each guest had their turn in the trap.

Passing through one of the gateways I had opened
(R.Petterson)

Along the path there were several places where I had to open a gate of branches to clear the path for others. This clearing was an important symbol of my work, clearing the way to God’s word in Kope language, clearing the way for others to come behind me. Others though had prepared the way, as bridges had been built and the path repaired from when I had last walked along it some months before.

As we walked to Ubuo, we passed several stations where people were demonstrating traditional skills such as weaving or canoe carving, or were handed refreshments. A fresh young coconut to drink and a slice or pineapple to eat was exactly what I needed! There was singing and dancing, and a crowd accompanying us along the way. It was a joyful arrival and my slowest but most enjoyable journey between the two neighbouring villages.

Handcraft demonstration (D.Petterson)

At Ubuo we shook another hundred or so hands as we made our way onto the stage that had been built for the event. It was good to have a seat in the shade! The stage was also deep enough that we could relax a little, rather than feeling closely watched every moment.

The official welcome consisted of a series of presentations of songs and dances from the various villages in the Kope tribe. There were a few (mercifully short) speeches and then it was my turn to introduce all the guests. I chose to do this in Kope, and had written my script the day before so that it could be checked and corrected before I embarrassed myself.

Handshakes! (A.Evers)

As I introduced all my guests in language, the crowd grew in number. For each person I said their name, where they were from and what work they did in PNG. By the time I got to the last person on the list, the crowd was huge! They had come out of curiosity to know who the visitors were, but mostly to hear my attempt at Kope. There seemed to be no patches of giggles, so hopefully that means I got my language correct.

At last we were able to retreat from the crowds and the heat to my house for lunch and a rest. My house did an admirable job of hosting 16 people as everyone sat around drinking water, eating lunch and finding somewhere to lie down for a nap.

Studying before I gave introductions
in language (A.Evers)

 This ended the welcoming phase of the Jesus Film dedication celebrations. The dedication, ‘surprise event’, and film showing were yet to come.

Flood

The riverbank at Purari airstrip.
The water had covered all the
ground on the right. (D.Petterson)

Before our recent work trip, we were aware that there had been flooding in the area where we were going. On July 11, 2014, The Post Courier reported that “continuous rain in Gulf Province has caused the rivers in the Purari delta to burst their banks, displacing 2006 people and destroyed 53 houses.” When we landed at Purari airstrip on July 30, intending to spend the next few weeks around the Purari delta, the impact of the flood was immediately evident.

At the river bank, the ground was still soft from where the flood had inundated usually dry areas. The steps to the boat had been partially washed away. As we travelled along the rivers, the flood scars were everywhere. River banks had subsided into the river, leaving trees poking out of the water or hanging at an angle. Trees which had been swept downstream piled up on river bends, where the force of the water had thrown them.

A slipped bank and fallen trees
(Photo R.Petterson)

As we visited villages, we heard stories of the flood. We did not visit anywhere that had lost their houses, but some had lost their gardens. When people are subsistence farmers, losing your garden is a big deal. It is like burning a small family business to the ground. As river people, they were still able to fish and find sago palms to convert to food, but that is a limited diet.

Another slipped riverbank

There were relief efforts happening in the area, coordinated by the Red Cross. At least once we passed a dinghy loaded up with rice on its way to affected villages. In other unaffected villages, people were hard at work making sago. The relief team was coming to purchase it to give to other villages. One village’s misfortune was proving profitable to those who had escaped.

Yesterday this was a well laid
path. Today it is a floating log
challenge.

Another bonus from the floods was the trees washed downstream. Men had been collecting these and were busy building new canoes. A shipyard would be hard pressed to beat the boat building industry I saw in the Gulf!

While we were in Gulf, there was a new round of flooding. The previous flooding had been primarily due to heavy rain upstream. This round was largely due to king tides. The village would flood twice a day, with the water subsiding in between. This did not have the force of the rain-induced flood, but it still insidiously brought salty water into gardens and villages where is was not welcome, damaging bridges and walkways. 

Although we went to Gulf knowing it was the wet season, the flooding meant that we saw and waded through it in about peak sogginess.

Marvellous Mud

Every step a challenge!

As a kid I loved reading the book ‘The Marvellous Mud Washing Machine’ by P Wolcott. I could have done with such a machine during our recent adventures in Gulf Province.

Going down to Gulf, we knew that it was the wet season and it would be muddy. We knew there had recently been flooding in the area. We did not know that king tides would continue to provide more flooding. We were not really prepared for the challenge all this mud would present, but here is the story of our survival!

The mud was everywhere. I took reef shoes to wear in it, not to keep me clean, but to prevent my sole from being pierced. These did a reasonable job, until they were so drenched from constant inundation that my feet started to slip within the shoes and they just felt bad to put on. At this point I gave up on footwear and went barefoot.

How blessed are the feet...

The mud was on flat surfaces. Sometimes it was deep and you never knew when a step would bottom out. Sometimes these surfaces were covered in water and you would walk without seeing your feet, wondering when they would find or lose traction. Sometimes it would spurt between my toes and spatter paint my entire leg. A walk that would be maybe 10 minutes in dry season took 45 as we squelched and slipped our way along its length.

The toilet death walk!

The mud was on logs and walkways. These had been laid to help keep people out of the worst of the mud, but it was tracked onto their surfaces by feet. This then meant negotiating a log bridge that had an extra coating of slipperiness. Often these log walkways were the path to the outhouse. At one place, falling off the outhouse approach meant falling over a metre onto sago thorns below. In another, the logs kept floating around on the king tides and rearranging themselves into a new outhouse challenge each morning.

Wading at school

The mud was renewed by the tides, so that the sun had little chance of drying the ground out. We started to plan around the tide, walking to church before it was more than ankle deep and only coming home once the ebb was well underway. We sat in a school as the tide flowed beneath us. I could watch it through the cracks in the floor.  We waded to the next class room when it was time for the next activity.

The mud was on slopes. One step upwards could easily be a half step back, as gravity made its claim on my progress. In another place I considered sitting on a banana leaf and tobogganing down to the river as my best approach to the clay slope. I didn’t do it, but I did make it down safely, thanks to help from a local lady.

Humbled.

Locals are used to the mud and prepared for it. Every building has a foot washing bucket ready and a damp rag to wipe your feet on. In at least one place I had a lady wash my feet for me, pouring on water and rubbing off the mud. It was a humbling experience.

All the mud was a memorable part of our time in Gulf, but it did not define it. We were still able to get around, spend time with people and get work done. Still, I’m happy to be away from it for awhile!