Mud, Saws, and the Complex Body of Christ

Oh, the joys of rainy season! We had a soccer tournament last Saturday and the linguistics office got together a team of fearless women who (as you can see) met with a fairish bit of mud. I watched. Spectator is my favorite position in soccer . . . the ball and I never seem to be able to come to an understanding. The mud did look pretty fun, though!

Later that evening all the many talented people here got together and performed their unique talents for us all. Did you know you can play a saw with a violin bow? Well, this guy can. It was pretty cool: he changed the pitch by bending the saw and drew the bow across as if it were a violin!

That evening I was reminded how interconnected we all are. Even the little things we do affect so many people in so many ways. Honestly, I don't know how God keeps track of it all. I hope you can keep track of this story . . .

My friend Krista had hurt her ankle pretty badly and needed to get to Australia for more extensive medical care. Sara was going to go with her but there weren't any flights out of Ukarumpa for a couple weeks so they were trying to figure out how to get to one of the cities that has an airport. But I didn't know that. At the talent night I *happened* to sit in front of my friend Esther and during intermission she *happened* to mention that she and her husband were driving to one of the cities early the next morning. I then went over to talk to Sara only because something in the first half of the show reminded me of something funny one of our other friends had told us. Sara told me they were trying to get to a city, I told her Esther was going there, and less than 24 hours later Krista and Sara were safely in Australia.

Pretty cool, huh? But being interconnected works both ways. When I don't get along well with even one person, it's tempting to think that it only affects me and that person, when in reality it affects so many people around us, perhaps in ways we'll never realize. This week we're in the middle of "Conference", the time when all of Ukarumpa gets together to plan strategies, elect new leaders, and renew our vision. Imagine over 300 people in one room . . . no, wait, you don't have to imagine, you can see for yourself . . .

Now, as I was saying, look at this room full of over 300 people, representing at least 14 different nationalities and a broad spectrum of church backgrounds. Do you think they're always going to agree on how things should be done? Do I really need to answer that question? "Being of one mind" can be hard work. But I'm firmly convinced that because of (not in spite of) the challenges our diversity brings, God will be even more glorified as we work through our disagreements, set our differences aside, and work together for the goal that has brought each of us here: to see God glorified and adored when people are able to hear Him speaking in their own language.

Another day in the office . . .

Back to the office! Now it's time to start looking through all those hundreds of questions I asked people and figuring out what they mean. "What language do you speak at home? What language do you speak when you go to the market? What language do you use when you pray? What language do you use when you argue with someone? What language do you use when you talk to your parents? What language do you use when you talk to your brothers and sisters?" I asked these questions (and many more) of young men, middle-aged men, older men, young women, middle-aged women and older women. Now I get to sort through all the answers, look for trends, summarize, and hopefully write a report that will give a clear picture of which languages are used when, where, and by whom.

When we were out in the Wagi language area, we had lots of kulau (pronounced koo-low . . . rhymes with 'now') to drink. Mmmmm . . . just seeing it in the picture makes me want one now. If you pick a coconut when it's still very young, you can cut a hole in the top and drink the water, which is lightly sweet, slightly fizzy, and incredibly refreshing. Sadly, they don't grow here in the highlands where Ukarumpa is . . . I'm sure I would write this report much faster if I had one today. By the way, have you ever wondered how you pick a coconut growing 30 feet above the ground on a tree with no branches? This kid's an expert!

Happy National Liklik Haus Day!

What is National Liklik Haus Day? Well, "liklik haus" in Tok Pisin literally means "little house", but in some parts of the country that's what you call the bathroom. On this most blessed of days (March 19) one of my fellow surveyors had a very close, personal experience with the bottom of a "liklik haus" . . . and by 'bottom' I don't mean the floor. I mean the bottom of the pit. In the survey office we celebrate this day in her honour. Here's a picture of 'my' liklik haus in the village where I lived for five weeks when I first came to PNG.Yesterday was the last day of "Interact" . . . a time when all the language people (and a few others) here in Ukarumpa get together for a week and present interesting things about their work to each other. I presented a bit about our Bena Scripture Use survey, and it was exciting to get a chance to tell people about that, since Scripture Use surveys are such a new thing for us. The most exciting thing, though, was how excited everyone here is about their own work! I loved seeing how much all these people love what they do. Someone from the aviation department told us about the new airplane they just bought. To me, it's just another machine that will get me where I need to go, but this guy's eyes shone as he pointed out the new technology and specially designed rudder pedals that apparently make this airplane amazing for aviation in PNG. With animated gestures and real passion in his voice, a computer specialist told us about some of the new things in the computer world that can be really useful in our work. Linguists shared thrilling discoveries about directional verbs and the differences between Austronesian and Papuan languages. God has called each of these people here to do something they're good at . . . and last week proved to me that He's also called each of them to do what they love! Reminds me of something Fredrick Buechner wrote: "The place where God calls you is the place where your deepest gladness, and the world's deep hunger meet." I've often felt that way about my work here, and I'm clearly not the only one!

Joyce, my friend and next door neighbour, telling us about the language where she's working

Wagi Survey

After visiting five villages, driving for over twelve hours, writing down 950 Wagi words and phrases, and talking to more people than I can count . . . it's back to life in the office.

Since the Wagi language area is close to Madang (one of the largest towns in PNG) there were roads leading to every village and we were able to drive the whole way. Also, because Madang town was so close, people had a lot more stuff than they generally do in more remote villages. We saw TVs, a stereo system complete with speakers, a digital camera, electric lights, a refrigerator, and even a shower! (Yes, it was outside with a tarp for walls . . . but still!) It was an odd feeling to walk into a village house and have our hostess ask if we would like to put our fruit in the refrigerator. And during a church service someone's cell phone rang!

One of my jobs on this survey was the "Language Use" questionnaire. Basically, we want to know who speaks which languages, when, where, and to whom. Knowing how often people (especially kids) speak the Wagi language helps us get an idea of how likely it is that people will still be using Wagi fifty years from now. In some places in PNG, kids are speaking Tok Pisin (the trade language) more than their local language. In these places there is a chance that when today's kids grow up, their local language might be lost.



Papua New Guinea has both millipedes and centipedes that are longer than my index finger and nearly as wide. The difference (besides the number of legs?) is that millipedes are round and harmless and centipedes are flat and extremely poisonous. If you make them angry they excrete a poisonous juice that burns you and is apparently extremely painful. A woman who has had three children and been burned by a centipede said that she would rather give birth again than be burned by a centipede again.

One morning I was taking down my mosquito net when my arm brushed against my shirt and it was cold. My shirt, not my arm. Looking down, I discovered that the feeling of cold came from the hard shiny back of a millipede, crawling up my side! In terror, not remembering which variety was more painful than childbirth, I shook it off and stood there trembling. Sara, my generally unflappable teammate, informed me that it was harmless and scooted it outside with her water bottle.

As always, we were welcomed into every village and given loads of amazing food. How's this for a fabulous breakfast?

Oh, sorry, goodbye!

Me again (Dan).

I'm writing this from Dubai. I arrived here a few hours ago and have a couple of nights here. I'm staying in Dubai's only youth hostel (which the taxi driver had never heard of). It's alright. The guy sitting next to me on the plane had a Dubai Lonely Planet which he lent me. I made lots of notes and once we'd landed and I'd checked into the hostel I made my way straight to the place they recommend you get lost in: the old part of town with little streets, alleyways, spice and gold markets. It's fun. Last time I came here it was 37 degrees celcius when the plane landed at 5am before the sun came up. That was in July. Now it's a bit more civilised...around 30-35 during the day, I think.

Well, as Juliann said, I've left PNG. My two years is up. If you would like to keep in touch with me or to know what I'm doing next, email pngsurvey@gmail.com and Juliann will forward your email address to me. I won't be posting here any more. It's been fun. Hopefully hear from you soon. (The survey team are currently out on survey so Juliann won't get any emails from you for a week or so.)

No, you didn't accidentally go to the wrong blog. And, no, Dan did not suddenly grow his hair out and undergo major facial surgery and, well . . . nevermind.

What Dan did do was leave Papua New Guinea. If you don't believe me, here's a picture of him getting on the plane at the small airstrip from which we fly in and out of Ukarumpa, where we live.

I guess he's been telling you he was going to leave . . . well, he's really done it. Which, by they way, is one of the things I love most and hate most about this job: meeting so many cool people and then saying goodbye to them. I've already said goodbye to a couple of close friends, and so far it hasn't gotten any easier to see them leave. Each time I have to ask myself . . . is it worth it? And each time, even through the tears, I have to say yes. I would rather have known the people I've met here, as much as it hurts when they leave, then miss out on knowing these amazing people who have taught me so much about enjoying life, God and people.

But enough of all that, when I haven't even introduced myself! Well, here I am, you can see the picture. I've been living in PNG for about a year and a half now, which is hard to believe because it's absolutely flown by. I never meant to be a missionary . . . I just loved God and people and languages, and this is the job that tied those loves together. While it has its fabulous moments and not quite so fabulous moments (like any job), overall I think I pretty much have the coolest job in the world and I wouldn't trade the past couple of years for anything!

And I'm going to stop now, because we're leaving in 12 hours (and it's 6pm right now . . . ) for a survey near the north coast. This one will be short, only five days, so check back soon for an update and some (hopefully) cool pictures!