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On Sunday I went to church with Kumi. Kumi is the first Papua New Guinean I ever met. He works construction with Mike Chapman, and has very good English. I asked Kumi how old he was and I got the typical PNG response, "I don't know", followed up by the estimate, "maybe 24?" We walked to his church in the village of Tumba, which is about a 50 minute walk off of the mission station. Along the way, I plied Kumi with lots of questions and learned a lot more about PNG culture. Among the more important things that I learned: 25 kina is a good deal for a chicken.
Since I was the only white person at Tumba, I got a good deal of attention, especially from the children (or "pikininis" as they are called here). They would peek around a corner at me, I would smile and wave, and then they would run away laughing. The church service was mostly in Tok Pisin and part of it was in the "tok ples" (local language) of Kuma. I have a Tok Pisin Bible so I was able to follow along with part of the service. They sang four or five songs in Pisin, including the Sunday School classic "This is The Day That the Lord Has Made". I introduced myself in Tok Pisin and was warmly greeted by the congregation. The pastor then preached a long and passionate sermon. The church building itself had walls of corrugated tin, wooden benches, open windows, and no door. The altar was decorated with hundreds, if not thousands, of live flowers.The congregation numbered near 40, with many pikininis among the congregants.
On our walk back from church, I bought a fried rice cake for myself and Kumi from a vendor alongside the road. Only 50 toea (less than 25 cents) for a delightful, deep-fried, doughy delicacy. A young girl was carrying red spiny pods and Kumi got one from her, proceeded to open it, crush the seeds inside with his finger, and show me the bright red "paint" that it yielded. Naturally Kumi and I used this to paint our faces, and it showed up much better on my white skin than on his dark skin. We walked back to the station with our painted faces. If my being white hadn't garnered enough attention already, then the bright red stripes on my face certainly made me a sight to see. Many locals would snicker and murmur something, which Kumi would later translate for me. Most of it was about the ridiculous painted white man.
On Monday, after working with maintenance all day, I went with Kumi to a bride price exchange. In PNG, the man's tribe pays a bride price to the woman's tribe. This consist of cash, pigs, and a bunch of food. The price can vary from a few thousand kina to upwards of 50,000 kina (about 25,000 US dollars), and up to 40 or so pigs (a large pig can fetch 4,000 kina). This exchange is not the same as a wedding. The couple has already been living together for a while and may already have one or more children. It's more of a finalization of the man's tribe purchasing, in a sense, the woman. The exchange I went to consisted of 10,000 kina, 12 pigs, and a massive altar of food.
So it started with the man's tribe dancing and singing. Just as with American weddings, there's always that one rowdy and hilarious drunk guy; in this case it was Okuk. The woman's family then begins dancing and singing and moves down the road to where the man's family is. They meet, everyone sits down (there are well over 100 people by now, and I am the only white one). The man's family then gives the parents of the woman blankets, a mattress, 1000 kina, and a large pot. Periodically women do this high pitch yell/screech. When all of the formalities are over, the woman's tribe then begins to disassemble the alter of food. This altar is massive. Hundreds of bananas, pineapples, kaukau (sweet potatoes), even 20 or so dead chickens, 15-foot high stalks of sugar cane, and an entire roast pig (in several large pieces, including the head). The most interesting part of this altar, to me at least, was the cuscus tied in the middle of it. A cuscus is an indigenous marsupial that looks like a hybrid between a lemur, a tarsier, and a tree kangaroo. It's kind of bizarre. Anyway, the woman's family disassembles this altar and begins to eat everything. Since I was a special guest, I was offered several of the vegetables, which I gladly accepted.
Kumi and I then walked back to the mission station at dusk, sharing a cooked kaukau.
Wednesday I worked with Karla Deuel in phlebotomy. She started by giving me a tour of the lab and then a lecture on proper technique for drawing blood. This is pretty important because around 5% of the people around here have HIV, so sticking yourself with a needle could prove disastrous (not to mention hepatitis, malaria, and a number of other blood-borne diseases). After the lecture and observing Karla do several drawings, I drew blood from my first patient. It went off without a hitch, so I did four or five more, including some patients that were HIV positive. This whole process was made official by the fact that I got to wear a lab coat.
I've moved from the Barnabas Haus (where work and witness teams stay), over to the Stone Haus. This is the house for which last year's Olivet team poured the foundation and began framing. As far as PNG houses go, I am living in the lap of luxury. This house is like a cottage: two bedroom, one bath, a living room and a kitchenette, fully furnished with furniture, kitchen utensials and appliances, and even my own washing machine. The thing that makes it even better is that I have it all to myself; for the next two weeks at least. I think some of the guys from the Olivet team might comeover for euchre.
Things continue to go well and I continue to have many awesome experiences. I will continue working with maintenance tomorrow and maybe Friday. I am working with four native guys to do a big landscaping project at the entrance of the station. This involves making a stone pathway, putting up a new sign, creating a stone wall, and planting some shrubbery to create a hedge. I've already taken my "before" picture; I am anxious to see it next to my "after" picture.
Brian's Though of the Day: I realized that I brought a bag of dried pineapple. I'm not sure why I did that. Bringing dried pineapple to Papua New Guinea is like bringing beef jerky to a five-star steakhouse.
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Samantha
non-member comment
I'm really enjoying your updates. I can hear your voice when I read them. I'm a little sad that I won't be able to keep up with them while I'm in Denver & my team is practicing the art of "unplugging." Praying for you.