Re-entry

So we have re-entered the British Isles after living 'in the jungle' for the last two years, and like Sandra Bullock's re-entry in the film Gravity, we are experiencing some level of shock (albeit perhaps not to the same degree, *SPOILER ALERT*, after all, we were picked up from the airport by my parents, rather than trying not to drown in a lake in one's undergarments).  Some of you may have heard of 'reverse culture shock' but for those of you who aren't familiar, here is a helpful definition:

“Reverse culture shock is experienced when returning to a place that one expects to be home but actually is no longer.  It is far more subtle, and therefore, more difficult to manage than outbound shock precisely because it is unexpected and unanticipated.” Dean Foster, founder and president of Intercultural Global Solutions, a firm that provides intercultural training and coaching worldwide.

Well, we were anticipating some level of shock on returning to a minority world context (the UK), and since we've only been back a week or two, we have by no means navigated through this transiiton yet.  However, we thought we'd share with you some of the things that have leapt out at us as being 'shocking' in one way or another.  These aren't meant to be judgements, but just reflect the gulf of where we have been living compared to where we will be living (at least in the immediate future).

"You're doing great; only 80ft to go", "I'm six months pregnant; is this the only way, Luke?"

• Trying to remember that nobody understands Tok Pisin here (and suddenly feeling your vocabulary is restricted because of that!)
• Wearing jeans feels AMAZING and at the same time, seeing so many thighs (even if it is only their outline) is a little weird!
• Being really really cold.
• Remembering it's acceptable to sit close to one another and even to show affection.
• Struggling (our lips) with the lack of humidity.
• Finding grammatical mistakes hilarious (e.g. the man stood next to a car with a sign reading  "pancake's").
• Being overwhelmed at the expansive of range of fruit and vegetables from all over the world (some of which we had never seen before) in the supermarket (some of which we're being kept cool by refrigerated air streaming out of metal pipes).
• Feeling unable to keep up with a different pace of life.
• Being disappointed to discover that being friendly and speaking the language (English) doesn't get you very far in terms of customer service (not even an apology after our flight was delayed overnight!).
• Having clean feet (even before a shower!).
• Feeling out of touch by new technology, e.g. "Cool watch",
  "Oh, it's just an iPod."
• Being stunned at the smooth, smooth (and clean) roads.
• Being stunned at the sheer volume of cars that fill up those roads.

arrrgh!

• Staggering at the availability and convenience of (real) toilets and rubbish bins.
• Being bowled over by the abundance of sanitised, fully-prepared and very appetising food and drink.
• Remaining peaceful and relaxed after Luke leaving me in a public place for 15 minutes.
• Wondering no more when/ where the next opportunity to charge my mobile phone/ Kindle will be!
• Finding perfect strangers being pleased for me about the pregnancy.
• Finding perfect strangers not as willing to engage in conversation with me.
• Observing that people walk a lot faster.
• Feeling pretty scruffy, rather than the best-dressed.
• Feeling under pressure with conversations that tend to focus on the future instead of the present.
• Missing the random calls to our mobiles from people just ringing to see if we'll answer and want to make a new friend!
• Smelling the cleaning products used regularly in public places.
• Discovering the phenomenon of bio-security risks: We've seen giant yams make it through with 'security checked' luminous stickers in Papua New Guinea, but Australia and New Zealand don't even like you having soil on your walking boots! 

Bio-hazard alert!

• Seeing the beautiful orange, yellow, red and brown trees (we thankfully made it home to catch the tail-end of Autumn).
• Unpacking our suitcases and putting them away with the understanding that they will stay away for at least the next six months (on average, we haven't stayed in one place for longer than 8 weeks over the last two years). 
  

So, if we seem a little bewildered, confused, incoherent, emotional, stressed, you might have an idea of why, even if you can't exactly relate!

18,000 words about singsings

A singsing is a traditional Papua New-Guinean way of celebrating events such as a Bible Dedication, Independence Day, the arrival of visiting waitskin friends, or the return of a victorious band of warriors!  

 

Each community has their own unique way of doing it, but it generally involves, dressing up (using leaves, feathers, shells, and face paint), beating lizard skin drums, and singing and moving very passionately! 

Sadly, many communities are losing their cultural heritage, but we were able to lend a little support to the preservation of a few by attending the Mt. Hagen Show, a annual event where communities get to proudly showcase their identity. 

Please pray with us that when Jesus returns, there will be folks from each language group in Papua New Guinea ready to singsing for Him.  

Can you imagine the sight of each tribe, each language group, each species, proclaiming 'Worthy, worthy, worthy is the Lamb!' in their own unique way?

Pootsh-my-le-wenwen

"Baby", in the Sissano language.  As a word, it's a bit different from the English equivalent, and giving birth to one in Sissano-land is also (traditionally) a little different from doing so in the UK.

Conceiving is generally quite a big deal in our home culture.  It begins with... well, we all know what it begins with; but this is usually followed (at some point) by a bought pregnancy test (or more than one!).  Then the 12 week scan takes place, which serves to confirm the pregnancy and give peace of mind about the development of the foetus.  If this has not happened already, the news is made public ('the announcement'!), which is increasingly quite an event in itself and can be done in a many different creative and fun ways.
 

In Sissano, getting pregnant doesn't seem to be a big deal... our announcement has received little attention/ interest/ remark, falling into the 'everyday stuff of life' category of conversation.  As an aside, we showed the Sissano literacy and translation team our scan picture and explained that it was a kind of photo of the baby inside Laura.  This received no initial response whatsoever.  Then after an awkward silence, Kenny (who, due to his long involvement with the project, is a bit more 'savvy' about what was expected with crazy white people), tells us that they're all really happy for us.  Getting pregnant is, well, what happens if you're a woman.  There are no tight tops to show off your new bulge, no pregnancy magazines or apps to buy, no forums or groups to join, and no 'baby showers'.  If you don't get pregnant, OK, then it might become more of a talking point.

Giving birth in the UK involves appointments with midwives, a special diet, ante-natal classes, more scans and tests, setting up a nursery at home, and a birthing 'plan' centred around a due date to cater for the mother's specific wishes and needs.  Many different professionals are involved at various points in the pregnancy and birth, the vast majority of whom will have very little relationship with the mother.  In Sissano, when the mother feels that 'her time' is approaching, a special hut is built in a secret location in the bush by the elder women of the small community, where they will stay with the expecting mother.  These extended family members will be the only ones to prepare and care for the mother.  It is not special in that it has designed facilities, comforts, or nearness to scientific medical resources.  Rather, it is special in that it has only one purpose and it is forbidden for any man to visit or enter the hut. 

Nira (at a complete guess!) is about 5 months pregnant with her second child.  Laura asked her about it and she has absolutely no idea when the baby is due

In the UK, when the baby is born, the placenta is disposed of (unless you fancy a smoothie - google it if you dare!), medical tests are performed and soon after, various family members and various health professionals will come to visit the mother and child.  When they return home (if they have been in hospital), sometimes close friends will try and support the parents by bringing food round to their house (usually for the family to eat in private).  In Sissano, after the birth, the placenta is disposed of by burying it in a secret spot.  Should any pass by that place accidentally and walk on that spot, he is believed to develop a sore leg as a result.  The mother and child remain inside the hut for up to a month after the delivery, until both feel strong enough to emerge.  During this time, the husband is the only male allowed to have contact with them.  The whole community will be gathering food for a special feast (especially for the first child), which they will all enjoy together when the mother and child come out.

In the UK, choosing a name for the child is generally something that both parents must decide on.  Sometimes a name that has been in the family will be used, though increasingly not.  In Sissano, both mother and father choose a separate name for the child, each taking a name from their respective families, and then at some point in the future they can decide which name 'sticks'!  

The first born son has a special kinship term (eltan), and will one day assume responsibility for the extended family beneath him.  Girls on the other hand, are valued because they are a huge help to a household, carrying out many domestic duties.  If they marry, they will have to be bought by their husband from her parents (the bride price is very expensive).  And if the money cannot be raised, (or the debt cannot be paid off), and the circumstances allow, then the husband must give one of his sisters as a wife to one of his wife's brothers.  Or if this cannot be done, then the first born daughter is given back to the mother's parents as compensation.

Of course, some of these things are changing in Sissano, just as they are changing in the UK.  It has been interesting for us to hear of a very different approach and reconsider our own attitudes to birth.  I doubt that Laura will live on her own in a hut for a month after the birth, but, who knows, maybe we'll try and give a nod to Sissano culture in some of the things we do!







 

Vowels, Verbs and Jungle Dentistry

It was our last chance to 'get it'.  One final opportunity to ask those questions.  The conclusion of our data collection period.  The Season Finale of "I'm a Field Linguist - Get Me Out of Here!" Well, we made it! We're still in the proverbial (and literal) jungle, but we're using up the last of our dried chickpeas and stash of M&Ms (the only chocolate that can withstand this heat!), making ready for our departure from the village.  I thought I should take the time to share some of my stray thoughts on last week spent, with the two Sissano translators, Kenny and Lyons. 

Honestly, if we were to ask you, as a native English speaker, the kinds of questions we've been posing over recent months to these various Sissano speakers, most of you would ask to be excused pretty sharpish due to acute bouts of chronic boredom.  "So, just to go over that, it's 'I do' but 'he/ she does'? Is that correct?" Or, "would you say that the sound at the end of this word is more like the sound of (pointing to the blackboard) those words or is it more like (pointing to the other blackboard) these words?" And those classic moments, when listening to a recorded conversation, "Did he say 'tkjiel', 'kjiel', 'kjel' or 'tkjel'? Sorry, I didn't catch it (again)."  But these guys actually seemed to enjoy it - bless them! We felt extremely privileged to have these experienced, perceptive, intelligent men of God serving as our language resource people.

Team Sissano!

Monday
We should have started off with something straightforward; instead we nosedived right into diphthongs! These are 'vowel glides', or two adjacent vowel sounds occurring within the same syllable.  This was quite daring of us, not least because we had not ventured to broach this subject with any other of our language helpers.  We asked Kenny and Lyons to help us determine just how many there are and to group them into categories, most of which we don't have in English and so getting our Anglo-ears around the vowels has been exasperating from the outset.

Despite his keen motivation, mid-morning of the first day, Kenny, who had been a lot quieter than his usual animated self, declared he felt as though he had malaria.  He said he needed to go to bed and as he felt very cold, Luke brought him an extra blanket and some medicine.  We continued the rest of the time with Lyons on his own, while Kenny was recovering.

Going over the diphthongs proved a useful endeavour and while we were at it, we investigated the vowels (like English, Sissano has a lot of vowels).  It took flippin' ages, but it caused us to refine several of our transcriptions.
 

Vexing vowels

Tuesday
As you might imagine, studying another language using the medium of yet another language is quite amusing and ironic in and of itself.  There have been many times, when the brain-ache has just become too much and we have lost our composure and Luke and I end up trying to stifle giggles like naughty children! On Tuesday, even when Lyons had repeated a word multiple times, we did not have a notion what he was saying.  It sounded like 'muscle' and he was pointing to his arm, but it obviously wasn't that.  We realised that, 22 months into our time here, there was yet another Tok Pisin word we still hadn't acquired:  mosong 'fuzz or fine hair' which features on many plants, one of which he was trying to describe to us.

That afternoon, sitting on the verandah, trying to stop a fly winging its way into my face, staring at the lined sheet of random phonetic/ phonemic transcriptions; as my eyes started to cross, the International Phonetic Alphabet quickly turned into unfathomable runes and I nudged Luke and whispered, "the baby needs a break" - I offered Lyons a drink of sugary, garishly coloured vitamin-fortified "Tang" which he accepted, as it was 'hot' - read: the sun was out - it's always hot.  And I made my escape to splash water on my face and take a bite out of something high in energy. 

'No, no, no. MOOOSON!'

Wednesday 
We had previously made recordings of various types of speech - narratives, instructions, persuasive pieces and finally, a conversation.  Four minutes into a five minute recording of conversation (it took us two days to complete a pretty crude interlinear transcription) and I was losing the will to live.  Filled with words we didn't recognise (because this time it's natural speech), we were having to write down all the abbreviations the two speakers were using.  The speakers are young and cool - exactly the type of people who love to abbreviate.  We would have been completely lost without Lyons helping us to express it in Pidgin and correctly annotate each Sissano word.

While eating lunch, a small part of a filling came out of one of my upper molars.  So annoying! Then Luke remembered we had (in the depths of our huge medical kit) some emergency dental gear.  Genius! That night, when the generator came on so that we would have sufficient light, he got the little mirror out and inspected the cavity.  Then (without the use of the big knife, pictured), he moulded some of the temporary cement and pushed it where the filling had escaped.  I can thankfully say that it's still in position! Thank you, Dr. Luke!
 

"I have a talent for causing things pain" aka Steve Martin, the Dentist

Thursday
By this point, my notes were such a scribbling, scrawling mess that Luke constantly had to ask, 'what does that say?' His notes were equally cryptic under my scrutiny and I wished he'd put the date on his work and be consistent with his marking of corrections.  (We love working together).  We have three pens - red, black and blue ballpoints - and we have three languages in our notebooks (Sissano, Tok Pisin and English).  This is case on our database on the computer.  Of course, it would make sense for these shades and languages to correlate, but they rarely do.  We're on our fifth exercise book each.  Last time we were in town we couldn't find any A5 (ish) size, and so opted for an A4 which we sliced in two and shared.  Needless to say, these books have taken a battering as we've travelled to and from the village and attempted to write up their contents.  On Thursday with Lyons, we spent the majority of our time together just testing for accuracy what we had already been given.  I reckon some kind of cohesion or order would have been useful from the outset, had we known how often we would be leafing back through the grubby pages!

Recording a few new words

Friday
Verb paradigms are something we in the British educational system are used to.  Most of us will have learnt to recognise and churn out the French mantra: je joue, tu joues, il/ elle/ on joue etc… or if you're of the German persuasion, ich spiele, du spielst, er/ sie/ es spielt… Something we've grown up with, is something quite foreign and academic to our Papua New Guinean friends.  It has been (with each of our language helpers), an extremely complex process to elicit verbs in their many and varying forms.  During our last sessions with Lyons, we were aiming for the past tense of a certain verb and it was going reasonably well for the singular forms, "I have forgotten; you have forgotten; he/ she has forgotten…".  However, when we came round to the dual and plural forms, something which looked suspiciously like the present tense form frequently surfaced from his lips.  To be fair, we've been grilling him about intricacies he has never in his whole life had to consider.  We are so grateful to God for the opportunity to check and re-check our work with this devoted labourer!
 
 
Saturday
At the culmination of our time together, we thanked them for their support, their service and sacrifice in taking time out to help us in this way.  They began thanking us too and here is a rough rendering of what they said:

Lyons, getting emotional about his mother tongue:

"It's such a hard thing you're doing! Thank you so much for working with our language.  I have learnt so much - and when I think about the Bible translation we're doing and the dictionaries being compiled by the literacy workers, I get worried that we don't have much knowledge.  You are helping us and we really need that.  We won't forget you."

Kenny, regretting being ill for most of the sessions, struggled to put into words his response to our leaving:

"I wish I could have been there more.  I feel like I've missed out learning things about my language! You've given us so much.  Thank you for coming and working with the Sissano people." [Of course, we assured Kenny, we didn't really impart any exciting revelations to Lyons - When we finish our analysis, we will provide them with a comprehensive report on Sissano phonology/ grammar in Tok Pisin.]

Canoes at Wauroiyn

We were able to go with them to the place where their friends had brought the canoes to take them back to Sissano.  It was lovely to be able to say a proper goodbye, to pray with them and to have a romantic hour to ourselves on the walk back!

Walking back down Bamboo Ave

'Flame of the Forest'

 

Whodunnit...?

Last week a man from the village we are staying in, fell out of a coconut tree and died.  He was married and had two children.  He was married previously but his wife and children all died in the tsunami disaster of 1998.  His second wife had also been married before, but she lost her entire family to the tsunami.  Her husband's sudden and tragic death has literally left her without 'mooring'.  Living in rural Papua New Guinea, where there is high infant mortality, low life expectancy, and poor access to medical facilities, death is difficult to keep quiet about.  In our last blog post, we wrote of the death of a three year old girl to malaria.  In between that death and the death of this father, a young boy similarly fell from a coconut tree in the neighbouring village and died.
 
The grieving process here is also very public.  The whole community and extended family gathers around the body of the deceased to ritualistically (and loudly) mourn for extended periods of time.  They often touch the body and sometimes people will even prostrate themselves on top of the body in their grief.  It is then hardly surprising, that when death is such an open part of life, people develop complex belief systems around what has caused it.  And that is not so different from the UK; having a cause of death is important under law and not having one can trigger the involvement of a coroner, a post-mortem, and even an inquest.  What is different is that 'accident' or 'Malaria' might be an acceptable cause of death (for many people) in UK, they would not be sufficient causes to explain a death (for many people) in PNG.

carrying the body to the beach for burial

Some people seem to believe that sorcery was involved in the death of this father and that during the previous night, a bird was heard singing that had never been heard before.  This could have been a bad omen or the indication of some kind of witchcraft.  Other folks seem to believe that malevolent spirits had something to do with the death (especially when the unfortunate history of the family is taken into account).  Apparently, the man had been in the deep jungle the day before, had been attacked by some spirits but had managed to fight them off (this was his own report).  Maybe they had come back to finish the fight and exact revenge.  Yet others seem to attribute his death to the fact that he had taken little care in climbing a tall tree; he had not used a special foot brace (made out of vines that is usually worn when climbing trees), and had also climbed from the 'wrong side' of the tree.  And still others seem to believe that God had decided his time was up, so to speak.  And it would be wrong to think that Christians believe some of these exclusively and non-Christians believe others exclusively.  It is true that: 

"With anything so viscerally devastating, the Christian community has long tried to explain it.  At the beginning of the written word [many scholars believe that Job is the oldest book in the Bible], we see this tension: Job has suffered in ways incomprehensible leaving a wake of crushing confusion. God tells us it was Satan, Job tells us it was God, his friends tell Job it was him. The finger-pointing is instinctual, because what we have always wanted to know when tragedy strikes is WHY." (Jen Hatmaker - Why Does God Allow Pain and Suffering?)

What do I believe was the cause of death and how do I make sense of this situation, of the WHY?  Did sorcery or demons play a part in the death? Possibly, yes.  I believe in the reality of spiritual forces that seek to destroy life and love and I am inclined to listen to people for whom the spiritual world is a very real part of their everyday life.  Did sloppiness in performing a dangerous, and yet, every-day task play a part in the death? Possibly, yes.  I tried to climb a very small coconut tree with a foot brace and basically failed (after exerting all of my rather limited strength).  I have no difficulty believing it is taxing and dicey feat, and again, I am inclined to listen to people who intuitively know the risks involved.  Did God have a part to play in the death? Possibly, yes.  Reading the New Testament it seems that in very rare situations God can deal out death.  Although I also have to conclude that the vast majority of the time, God seems far more interested in healing people than wounding or even slaying them.

the grave of a young child in the centre of a village (marked by the fence and white sand)

   
So, "whodunnit?" A demon in the darkness with hatred? God in the light with love? A terrible accident that is a part of life in this fallen world? I guess that is for each person to reason out.  But for me, death most often seems to be a senseless and meaningless loss.  For me, meaning and sense most often simply comes from solidarity.  The solidarity of a God acquainted with grief.  And the solidarity of His children who will join others in their mourning rather than trying to preach or hide it away.  It has been very moving to see the constant stream of people (including one of our team-mates who has been here for many years) walking through our village over the past week to mourn with this family.  To see the provisions of food they carry, to hear their wailing through the long night.  There is a real sense of community.  We pray for local believers who can love this family above and even beyond their cultural obligations.  To help them to see that God isn't just a 'new', malevolent spirit striking people down for inscrutable purposes and then demanding thanks and praise, but is a 'new' and totally different kind of Spirit who would rather give His own life, than take the life of others.



 

Another day in the life of two linguists

6:30am - Someone seems to have made a playlist out of their mobile phone ringtones outside our bedroom.  Push the earplugs in deeper and ponder how Laura can sleep with a fleece on.
7:00am - Clamber out of the mosquito net, and switch on the Radio for the Sepik Roll Call which happens twice a week.  We're required to check-in to let HQ know everything is going OK and pick up messages/ send any messages.
7:15am - "Alpha 396, negative traffic [no messages], have a lovely day, Meti [the radio operator]"
7:30am - Enjoy some home-made yoghurt and granola, whilst tackling a crossword (thanks, Nan!)
8:00am - Head down to meet our two language helpers, Petrus and Ignus.  They are both from the Sissano village of Amsor.

Ignus gets animated to help us understand

9:05am - Whilst working we come across a Sissano word we've never heard before; teni se'lin (lit. 'blood-half'), meaning 'half-caste'.  We ask who is considered to be half-caste.  A person who has one white parent and one black parent? Or a person who has a Papua new Guinean parent and an Indonesian parent perhaps (we're not that far from the border)? According to the British dictionary on the computer it is 'a person whose parents are from different races'.  Surprised to hear that unless both your parents are Sissano, you are considered to be mixed race! Their identity is very strong, despite the fact that there are only about 3000 people in their language community and they are one of over 800 language communities in PNG!

Petrus helps clarify which plant can be used to make arrows

9:45am - We are interrupted as a crowd gathers nearby.  Two days ago a three year old girl died of malaria (she took a course of medication but, sadly, died anyway).  Following the haus krai (a wake), a night-time gathering where family and friends gather to collectively weep, wail and mourn the death, a ritual is now performed where the family ask the deceased to indicate who in the community caused this death to happen.  Ignus, who used to work at an aid-post before he retired, tells us that the belief that nothing happens without a cause is a very deep-rooted one.  Thus, it is not sufficient that a sickness caused a death.  There is still a feeling that it is the result of someone's ill-intent or even sorcery.  The coffin bearers, apparently following direction from the dead little girl, move around the village in a fairly energetic fashion (we do not yet know the outcome of this ritual).  They then carry the body towards the beach where there is a graveyard.

Sissano pronoun headache

11:30am - We puzzle over a Sissano word, masaleijo ('machete') that just doesn't seem to fit the pattern of the language in terms of its sound structure.  We examine neighbouring languages to see if there are any similarities (quite a few words are homogenous to one degree or another), but it is totally different.  We wonder if it could be a borrowed word from further afield, perhaps from the time when German or Dutch was used in the area, particularly as it is an item which is relatively new to the culture.  A bit of inventive googling tells us that 'mes' is Dutch for 'knife', so we have a lead.
12:00pm - Lunch time! We enjoy some instant noodles (we eat them cooked as oppose to the local children who enjoy eating them raw!), with dehydrated vegetables and fried egg.
12:30pm - Enjoy some down-time (our language helpers take a nap, but it is too hot for us), watching local children climb trees collecting leaves to cook for dinner, and getting ready our work for the afternoon.

You can see the heap already collected under the tree to the right

1:30pm - With our language helpers, we listen to a story we recorded from an older man, Lukas.  He recounts how his grandparents, whilst fishing out on the lagoon one night, were followed and then accosted by a fiery spirit with a long white beard.  Petrus and Ignus help us as we probe them about various words used.
3:00pm - The skies open and it rains so hard that it is impossible for us to hear each other.  We take a break and thank God for the rain filling up our depleted water tanks.  It is dry season here at the moment, though it still rains once every week or two.  But it has been over three weeks since the last downpour and our water supply has started to look rather low.  The rain (which lasts about an hour) means we will be able to flush the loo more frequently!

wos! ('rain')

4:00pm - We chat to Petrus and Ignus about some of the 'inconsistencies' in our data that we've noticed, whilst talking to various Sissano speakers.   We have recordings and transcriptions where the 'tch' sound within a word is being used (seemingly) interchangeably with the 't' sound.  Petrus and Ignus tell us that they think the younger generation speaks Sissano at greater speed and therefore tend to not properly pronounce the 'tch' sound.  Very interesting (seriously)!
5:00pm - Finish work for the day.  A neighbour comes over and gives us some wild mushrooms (his in-law came round with a heap and he knew we have a penchant for them).  Laura makes a mushroom and soya bean loaf for tea - yummy!

As good as Farmer Maggot's, I'll wager

 
6:00pm - The generator comes on (and with it, the lights and fans!).
6:30pm - Write up some of our findings, move sound files onto the computer, polish up transcriptions and generally make sure all is in order for tomorrow's sessions.
7:30pm - Show Petrus and Ignus some photos of our family and the British countryside.  End up looking at some maps and giving a potted history of the UK.  They find the concept of a 900 year old building mind-boggling (which is fair enough - so do I!).  They are also very interested in the flags of our respective nationalities (N.Ireland and Wales).
8:30pm - Get ready for bed before the generator goes off at 9pm.
9:00pm - Listen to LoTR, The Two Towers (read very well by Rob Inglis) on the iPod in the dark.
10:00pm ish - Fall asleep, no longer to the sound of bats - the last time we were here, some of the local men (whilst doing some building work) removed the bat colony that was just above our bed.  They hadn't really been bothering us that much, but I guess it was damaging the building.  Fortunately, many of the bats managed to fly off, but quite a few ended up as quick eats for the workmen.

Caught in mid-flight and hurled on a concrete slab

So... you're saying you don't eat these where you come from?!

If you would like to read our other post describing a 'typical' day in the village, click here.

Learning to read my language!

I just got back from a five day wokabaut ('journey on foot') to the Sissano language community with three of my colleagues.  The main purpose of the trip was to run a workshop with classes on how to improve reading ability, primarily aimed at church leaders.  We took with us printed copies of Luke & Acts and little booklets of the Christmas & Easter stories which the participants used to practice their reading.  For many people, this is the first material they have ever read that has been written in their own mother tongue.  Over forty men and women attended the course (our oldest participant was 65 years old!) and learnt simple ways to help them improve their fluency, so that they would be more likely to use it in the services.  They also learnt some versatile questions to use in a Bible study context (such as, what do I like/ not like about this story? What do we learn about God's nature and human nature from this story? Is there an incident in my life that I'm reminded about by this story?).

We arrived at Amsor (one of the villages nearer to the coast) to the sound of kundu (lizard skin) drums and were processionally led to the shade of a huge mango tree where a large crowd had gathered.  It was an opportunity to let them hear the gospel of Luke on a Saber.   A Saber is a very durable digital audio player with a speaker and high-efficiency digital amplifier, making it ideal for large group listening.  A heavy-duty hand-crank mechanism is coupled with a rechargeable battery to ensure that power is always available.  It was amazing to witness the immediate hush as the first words came from the speaker, as people heard the Bible in their own language! We had brought six of these players to sell to the local churches and many more smaller solar-powered audio players for families to buy (these sold out as did the printed copies of Luke & Acts!).

Photo of a proud owner of a new AudiBible (credit: B. Fuller)

Then we travelled to a more central location, Ol Prum (literally 'the big mountain') where we would be staying and holding the workshop.  We were greeted with flowery necklaces and it was lovely to re-connect with friends. We had a feast of rice, sago, greens, fried pumpkin hash browns, coconut cookies, bananas, and noodles with green beans! Yummy! Then we sat back and enjoyed the incredible views before settling into our borrowed house (from a school teacher).

Saul very happy to see me again! (credit: B. Fuller)

During the night I awoke to my hair being tugged.  As soon as I felt it, I knew what was happening.  I was getting a haircut, courtesy of a rat.  I must have moved about too much in my sleep and my pillow and head were up against the mosquito net.  I grabbed my head-torch and turned round but the rat had gone.  I knew he couldn't be far so shook my pillow and saw him scurry around the room and out under the door.  The soap I used to wash my hair must have been particularly fragrant or he must have been particularly famished to resort to munching on my gras bilong het (hair).  Rest assured I stuffed that gap every night following.  I'll choose Laura as my hairdresser any day!

Find a space in the canoe-park! (credit: B. Fuller)

The workshop had the participants divide into smaller groups to practice reading and leading a study.  The Sissano translators (Kenny & Lyons) and literacy workers (Elizabeth & Vincent) led these smaller groups encouraging people to follow with a finger, read together, tackling difficult words together, and generally having a thoroughly good time.  It was such a privilege to see the joy on their faces as they read the Bible in their own language! It was good fun to sit in and also try reading Sissano aloud!

In the evenings, it was incredible to see the stars (including one dramatic shooting star and a very visible planet - Mars/ Mercury/ Venus?).  The night sky here can be breathtaking and I hurt my neck looking up for so long! And during the day, there was an abundance of birdwings (a kind of large and bright butterfly) which were stunning. 

During the workshop, one of my team-mates described six options for different workshops that we could run in the community for church leaders, ranging from Trauma Healing, Culture meets Scripture to Sunday School teacher training.  At the end of the workshop, the participants voted (preferentially!) to decide what workshop they would like to take place in their community.  Papua New Guinea uses the alternative voting method for parliamentary elections so they were familiar with this method.  We also had a time of prayer for Kenny and Lyons, with representatives of the four denominations present in Sissano dedicating these two remarkable men to the Lord.  It was quite moving, particularly the impassioned prayers of a lady from Assemblies of God.  Both translators were very encouraged by the increased awareness of and the renewed enthusiasm for their work.

Kenny and Lyons behind him (credit: B. Fuller)

As a team, we split up and fellowshipped with different churches over the weekend which was really cool.  It was brilliant to hear folks enthusiastically talking about future possibilities of using mother-tongue translations within their meetings.  I also walked to the top of the 'mountain' with some friends (Saul & Desmond) and enjoyed a 360 panorama of the region.  We had to run back down as the rain started to pelt down and we stopped at someone's house to shelter for a bit.  After a while, I realised that I had the key to our shared house in my pocket and my three team-mates had been locked out for ages! When we got back, Saul said laughingly that they would leave me to the mercy of my female colleagues, but thankfully they were very gracious to me!

On our way back to the project head-quarters at Arop, (laden with gifts of pineapples), we pulled in to pick up two men who were intending to work with Laura and myself on our linguistic analysis.  Unfortunately, they had both fallen ill and so weren't able to travel with us.  It was quite disappointing but we seem close to finding replacements to come in the next week.  Please pray that the illness isn't serious and that our new language helpers can come soon. 

It was so great to be re-united with Laura.  It was only five days, but it is the longest we've been apart since we've been married!  Some of our friends accompanied us back so that they could take back with them more audio players with Luke & Acts pre-loaded on them - Praise God!