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.

Tigak Hymns II

Last year Catherine and I were able to help Miskum format a hymn book  in his language, Tigak. This year we were able to hear the hymns in action as we attended a day of hymn singing and recording. The book has not yet been printed, but the copies of the draft are numerous and the anticipation is great.

Welcome song and dance (H.Schulz)

The location of the hymn fest was Kaut village on the west coast of New Ireland. In the morning we travelled out there in a dual cab ute. As we were too many to fit in the cab, Susie and I rode in the back. Two white women sitting in the tray of a vehicle… we attracted plenty of attention and waved to as many strangers as a royal must wave to! We travelled south from Kavieng enjoying the ocean views along the coast, experienced a brief cool change as we crossed the mountain ridge that forms the spine of New Ireland, passed the new phone tower and bumped along a muddy road to Kaut.

Rain tree (S.Pederson)

After arriving, we waited until the welcome party was ready, then walked a decorated walkway to the singing of a choir, were giving a welcome wreath of flowers… or tinsel… and took our seat on the stage built specifically for the day. After the official opening of the day was over, we could move off the stage to the sit in the shade of an enormous rain tree. With white coral sand under our feet, a backdrop of clear blue water and a soundtrack of heartfelt praise it was the sort of setting tourist brochures are made of.

Choir and conductor in action (R.Drew)

During the day the choirs from different congregations presented their songs. Each choir was in a matching uniform and sang with passion. The conductor would change between songs, but each one had some form of stick to use as a baton. Conducting styles varied enormously, occasionally making my musically trained colleague twitch at the randomness of the swinging stick in relation to the music. As I was not having to sing to the beat of the stick, I could just enjoy the passion and attitude with which it was wielded.

Stephen spent the day recording the songs. A generator was running in the distance, with a long enough extension cord that the noise did not interfere with the recording. The miracle of the day was that not a single rooster was seen or heard. They are the bane of village recording and had somehow been banished. Once Stephen has edited the tracks he recorded, he will return them to the community on CDs and SD cards.

(R.Drew)

The highlight of the day for me was the drama representing the coming of the gospel to the Islands region over 100 years ago. One group was in a dinghy, singing hymns as (so the story goes) George Brown and his party did on arrival. On the beach was a gathering crowd of people dressed to look like they were wild bush people, threatening the boat load with their spears. As the singers came closer to the shore the wild people grew still and quiet. The boat came closer and the wild ones took a step back. The boat emptied onto the shore, the people still singing, and the wild group stepped back again. They then stood still, listening. One by one their spears dropped to the sand as they stopped their fighting and welcomed these new people with their new song and their new message.

Fallen spears (R.Drew)

The drama was completely in the local language, but the meaning was clear; the gospel in song had brought new life and peace. With this as the history they re-enact, it is no wonder hymns play such a big role in the life of the local church. 

Songs of Faith

For a long time, my faith has been shaped by the songs I’ve sung. When something is on my mind, it is usually a tune that occurs to me, not a Bible verse, as truth with a tune is more memorable.

Growing up in the Australian Lutheran Church I have grown up with the All Together song books. Many of these songs are written by members of our denomination. Now that I live and worship in a multinational and multidenominational community, I find I miss these songs. They have shaped my faith, but others here do not know them at all.

Another source of music that has shaped me is Taizé. Their simple, Biblical and repeated songs are words that soak deep into my soul. Like a dripper that waters a root deeply, these songs soak truth to my depths.

Rebekah checking sound levels while
the musicians practice in Maipenairu

Having had music shape my own faith, I am always pleased when in a village I find PNG communities worshipping in their own language with their own music. As part of our time in Gulf province, we were able to encourage communities in this by recording their vernacular worship songs for them. These were then burnt to CDs or SD cards and left in the community for them to share and enjoy. Eventually these will hopefully be joined by song sheets, for singing a familiar song, or listening to it, while reading the words is a good literacy tool.

Village recording is very different to studio recording. Rebekah was in charge of recording and clearly knew what she was doing, but was faced with many challenges. First we had to find a good place for people to gather. Thankfully, bush roofs are good at absorbing sound in the same way a recording studio is designed to. In one place we used the covered market, in the other we used the church building.

Other people are a challenge when recording. As usual, our activities were the centre of attention and we drew a crowd, a crowd that needed to keep quiet. At the beginning and end of each recording Rebekah would count down from five on her fingers, indicating the silence was starting or ending. People would slowly settle in this time, hushing others. Some people would always be clear in the need for silence and police others. Some people never quite seemed to grasp the concept, and were forever shuffling, coughing or whispering, yet we eventually got there.

Each time we planned to record, we prayed that it did not rain. That is a sound which cannot be edited out. The weather must be waited out. As we had a fairly tight schedule, we were thankful that wet season decided to work with our schedule and hold off at recording times.

Recording in Kope language in Ubuo village

The biggest recording challenge was roosters. We would try to chase them away. We would ask children to chase them away. Yet, with impeccable timing, they would still manage to crow loudly in the middle of recordings.

Most of the songs we recorded were translations of English hymns and spiritual songs, although some were written by locals. Translated hymns tend to take on a new form in a new place as rhythm and tempo are adjusted to local tastes. I could not always recognise the connection to the original.

With nine songs recorded in I’ai language in Maipenairu village and 26 songs in Kope language in Ubuo village, it was encouraging to see songs of the faith shaping the people in those places in the same way that they have shaped me.