Redefining the Meaning of Life

Meeting God in the Highlands

(PART 4)

After another delicious egg and ham breakfast, I was sitting on the porch, working on my second cup of coffee, when men carrying large white bags began dumping them in front of the house. Other men would then carry them another 150 yards up to the airstrip to the plane loading area. In conversation with one of the men, I learned these were 50kg (just over 110 pound) bags of coffee beans, to be picked up and flown back to Mount Hagen later in the afternoon. I didn't want to intrude, or assist in a way that would embarrass them, but one young man was struggling a bit with his load, so I offered to lend a hand. Shouldering the heavy bag without too much difficulty, I followed the same uphill track to the loading area...legs and lungs burning by the time I dumped the bag. A crowd had gathered atop the hill adjacent to the airstrip, and I received a little cheer. Well, thought I, couldn't hurt to help these guys out and maybe earn a little respect in the process. A dozen bags/trips later, and more than a couple complements on my strength (probably just being polite), we had finished, and I'm first to admit I was thankful. I sat back down on the porch, took another long drink of my now cold coffee, and thought long and hard, with appreciation, for how much work must go into the coffee I enjoy every day. 



PICS BELOW:
     1.  Pile of fresh coffee beans placed out to dry.
     2.  Stacked bags on airstrip ready for pick-up.



After another morning study session, we were joined by a handful of children on a neighborhood walk - up hill and down dale. Richard provided entertainment by expertly climbing a tree (see if you can find him in the picture below). We walked around quite a number of thatched wall houses scattered across the mountainside, each with some variation of children, chickens and pigs, a hard clay yard, an outhouse, and sprawling vegetable gardens. We stopped by the local elementary school house, which was in slight disrepair, and the split trunk benches/desks reminded me of something I'd seen in colonial Williamsburg. We were then shown the skeleton for the replacement school building not far away. Apparently, the building supplies are provided incrementally by the children, who's parents send them to school each day with a piece of wood to contribute. 







To punctuate the process of the local economics, Rachel and I then enjoyed a walk up the mountain to where Pastor Thompson's garden was well under way. We found him and his two boys shoveling and rearranging large clumps of earth along the hillside in preparation for planting (pic below). We learned of their plans for corn, sweet potato, taro root, greens, sugar cane, bananas, and other common crops of these mountains. After the morning's coffee bean experience, and viewing this garden work upon a 45 degree slope, I really began to appreciate the hard work these beautiful people endure every day, always smiling, always thankful, always sharing with one another.



We met a couple small pigs upon our return home, one of whom decided I was sure to show him the way home, and wouldn't leave my side! 



With the promise of an airplane arriving in the afternoon, there is always quite a number of people who congregate around our house, lounging on the grass, the boys throwing or kicking a ball, the girls and women in small clusters chitchatting, the men standing in small groups sharing important words in low tones. I've noticed a few times in these moments of idleness the women grooming one another. One sitting, the other lying with head in lap receiving a thorough inspection of the scalp for (I'm assuming) lice. When one is found, the groomer places thumbnail to thumbnail, and with a forceful PINCH, pops whatever little exoskeleton had taken up residence. 



With the closest opportunity for bathing a 30 minute hike down to the "wara" (river) at the bottom of the valley, it seems that hygiene takes a backseat in Highland life...especially when your every action will only reverse the effects: shoveling gardens, carrying heavy bundles of wood/leaves/crop, building and tending cooking fires, walking barefoot at all times - up and down steep terrain, and almost always through thick mud, etc.  Besides, it rains so frequently here, it seems that sort of "shower" keeps the worst filth at bay.

When the plane finally arrived from Mount Hagen, I was interested to see the sizable amount of cargo being unloaded in exchange for the large bean bags: Rice, noodles, flavoring packets, sugar, salt, clothes, pots/pans, tin roofing, empty sacking, etc.  Many of the families who gathered must have worked long and hard to gather those beans, and now walked away heavily laden with goods that cannot be grown or made in these mountains.




A Reflection Upon the Day:
My mind returns over and over to the relatively retched/poor state of living the people of these mountains endure. Yet, all I can see is joy - as they live every moment in its fullest. They wear the same clothes every day, with the exception of a handful who have a second shirt. They gnaw on raw vegetables for breakfast and lunch, and then cook the same for dinner. They are covered in sweat and mud from the hard work they invest in their gardens, and the long treks they make up and down mountains to help in others' gardens, visit relatives, or attend school. Life is not easy here, but in every moment they share with one another, and while truly this sharing is a form of investment, it produces a brotherhood which is expressed in thanksgiving and laughter. They never pass one another by without a warm greeting, they are happy to share time in conversation or play a quick pick-up game of soccer. In the absence of western entertainment, they enjoy their evenings sitting fireside, telling stories, singing, and dancing. When I recognize the beauty in their retched/poor state, my eyes are further opened to the corruption in spirit of the Westerner. We who have so much, forget how to be thankful. In the pursuit of an even "richer" tomorrow, we abandon sharing in the need of our family and our neighbors today. The Western bustle drowns out our ability to revere God and His creation. 

Romans 8: 8-17
Those controlled by the sinful nature cannot please God. You, however, are controlled not by the sinful nature but by the Spirit, if the Spirit of God lives in you. And if anyone does not have the Spirit of Christ, he does not belong to Christ. But if Christ is in you, your body is dead because of sin, yet your spirit is alive because of righteousness. And if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit, who lives in you. Therefore, brothers, we have an obligation--but it is not to the sinful nature, to live according to it. For if you live according to the sinful nature, you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the misdeeds of the body, you will live, because those who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, ""Abba," Father." The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs--heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory.

My Prayer:

May we all share in His suffering, 

relinquishing control, abandoning self, 

to simply obey and serve in His Love. 

Amen.