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.

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)

Lifestyle Gap

My village house.

My house is the fanciest house in the village.

I have indoor plumbing (one tap to put a bucket under), indoor toilets (composting), power (2x 95w solar panels) and I’m cooking with gas. Each of these items on its own makes my house fancy. Together they make my house the best in town.

Compared to Australia though, I am roughing it. Bucket showers with brackish well water (at least until the drought is over), just a few 12v plug points, no phone or internet, no oven, no fridge, no furniture… people go camping with more comforts than I’ve got!

My neighbour’s house.
He plans to rebuild soon

Lifestyle gaps are a strange thing. By Australian standards, my village house is little more than established camping. By village standards, I’m living in swamp luxury.

Village kitchen, sitting on the floor

 and using a fire in the tropical heat.

A village toilet

Negotiating being the one with so much is a challenge. It teaches me to be thankful for what I do have rather than focussing on what I don’t. It teaches me to be thoughtful about what I own and what I consume, as I do not want my wealth to be a barrier to relationships. It teaches me to be generous, as I am too egalitarian to be comfortable in my castle while others wish for one of their own.

My indoor bathroom with
wash place and toilet

My real lifestyle gap with my PNG village is that I can leave. I can go away from my fancy village house to an even fancier house in the Highlands. I can then go away from that house to Australia and my Highlands house seems simple in comparison.

My biggest challenge with lifestyle gaps in the last year has not been returning to Australia with its comforts and riches, but the day the medical ship was in my area. Being aboard the big air-conditioned ship, sipping a coffee and looking at the village through the deck to deck windows felt like I was watching my own life on a documentary. I can cope with Australia being Australian, but when a piece of Aus floats into my PNG neighbourhood, I feel the clash distinctly. The ship does good work and I’m glad it visits, but it forced me to face the uncomfortable reality of my lifestyle gap in a way that I prefer to compartmentalise. 

School Supplies

Canoes rafted up outside Karati Primary school. 

This is the Gulf equivalent to the school bike rack.

One day while I was in the village, a group from the Provincial Department of Education arrived with school supply packs. These were funded through one of the companies doing development as part of their community contributions.

The teachers had been asked to present an accurate roll of enrolled students. The students were told they had to be there to receive their packs. I’m not sure so many students have been in attendance on one day before or since!

As the packs were handed out, students were given a form to be taken to their parents and have signed, to say that they had indeed received their supply pack. These forms were to be taken back to the provincial office and filed away as evidence that the supplies had reached the students.

Paddles planted in the ground at Karati Primary

The supply packs came in different categories for the different grades. The youngest children received slate boards and chalk to practice writing on, packs of coloured pencils and big blank paged books for drawing in. They also received pencil sharpeners, which was a pleasant change for me, as watching small children use razor blades to sharpen pencils makes me edgy. Older kids received lead pencils or pens and different size exercise books. Each pack was colour coded for the school grades it was intended for.

At the literacy school the next day it was lovely to see the children using their new supplies to practise writing and to do some drawing. They each sat on the floor working hard. It was the quietest I’d ever seen that class. In the evening, our house was filled with teenagers doing their homework. They sat writing out their lessons, each with their own supplies. As my solar power system was giving light to the house, we became the study centre. I’d never seen the teenagers so studious!

Level playing field? Where’s the fun in that!

These students live in a very remote and under-resourced area. Rarely could it be said that they are on a level playing field. These school supply packs, full of basic but essential things, made a big difference. I was pleased to see the immediate impact they had, as well as the evidence of the system of companies providing community assistance through government agencies working as it should. Hopefully the system continues to work and the next delivery of supply packs comes before these ones are exhausted.