The View from Mountain Hights

Meeting God in the Highlands

(PART 2)

I awoke to steady drizzle, birds singing, locals chatting out back, Rachel tinkering in kitchen with coffee fixings. Throwing off the blankets, I quickly appreciated mountain cool that had settled into the 50-60's overnight. I bundled up and donned warm slippers, but caught myself wishing for a beanie - no worries, my hoodie will do. We enjoyed a hearty bacon and egg breakfast, and then retired to the porch for our morning devotional. As we read aloud, two tiny girls sat at our feet listening, not understanding, but respectfully studying our voices and mannerisms, occasionally teasing one another and playing - but always silently. As the Love of God spoke to us through that devotional, I knew He was with us, and so whether they understood or not, I prayed for those precious souls at our feet to receive the same Love. 



The porch seems to be the best way to attract attention - the house sits on the air strip, which most use as an easy way to get up and down that part of the steep mountain, so many passersby detour to our porch for a handshake with the "white skins". The men are more bold, quick to stick out a hand accompanied by bright smiles, while the women are more shy or reserved, only venturing close when in number, with men, or when we greet them from a distance.



One of the fun cultural aspects shared among PNG men, and extended to me, is the unique local handshake. Apparently each area of the country has its own unique amplification of the classic handshake, which seems to help the men build camaraderie, as well as identify outsiders. For the men of Dusin, after a firm handshake, one man captures the other man's forefinger between two knuckles, and pulls back abruptly causing a loud snap as knuckles collide. Both men roll back in laughter with this exchange, smiling knowingly, and slapping shoulders in agreed manliness. It took me a little time to get the snap nice and loud, but even the slightest attempt was always appreciated greatly. 

Per the usual routine of our Dusin retreat, after our morning devotional, we settled onto the couch to take on the next chapter of our language study. The Myers (our mentors at Kudjip) had blessed us with a number of resources for studying "Tok Pidgin" and PNG customs - all of which we eagerly read. We increasingly found that this language is relatively easy since most words used are derived from English. Sentence structure is a little backwards, but once understood, makes sense. Here are some examples:

"Gude, Moning, Apinum"
   - Hello, Good Morning, Good Afternoon

"Yu stap gut?"
   - How are you?

"Mi hamamas long lookim yu."
   - I am pleased to meet/see you.

"Nem bilong mi Ted, na nem bilong meri bilong mi Rachel."
   - My name is Ted, and my wife's name is Rachel.

"Sorri, plis tok isi isi, mi no save long Tok Pigin gut."
   - Sorry, please talk slowly, I don't know Tok Pigin well.

"Mitupela kam long Dusin nau lainum Tok Pigin."
   - We came to Dusin now to learn Tok Pigin.

Quality Time with Pastor Thomspon

Pastor Thompson is our guide and tutor, and certainly the sweetest and most gracious national we have yet to meet. He and his "meri" (wife), Esther, live adjacent to us, and he pastors the local church just down the runway. Our "Tok Pidgin" lessons with Pastor Thompson are unscheduled:  he will find us randomly reading or studying on our porch, or we may hear him holding a conversation outside our house (it is impolite in PNG custom to approach/knock on someone's door - so coughing or loudly speaking nearby is done, in which case those within have the choice to entertain or not) - but we always opened our door. 

The rain visited our mountain escape at least every two to four hours - sometimes a brief drizzle, but most times a heavy downpour. Then, in stark reply, the sun was never far behind, baking everything dry, and easily leaving a burn if care is not taken to cover the ol' white skin. 





In the afternoon, during a period of blazing sunshine Pastor Thompson provided us with a tour of the surrounding area, which took us to "Bigpela White Stone". This rocky outcropping teeters on the edge of the high mountainside and provides a view that brought my mind home to Virginia's Blue Ridge Mountains...only this was grander, wholy untouched by powerline, paved road, commercial farming, or housing developments. Pastor Thompson named all the mountains and valleys, pointing out in great detail specific buildings in the distance (brown smudges to us), as various local schools and churches. As we took in the awesome (literal) view, we chewed on sections of sugar cane provided by Pastor Thomspon, sucking the sweet juices from the soft inner pulp, then unceremoniously spitting dried chunks into jungle below.



Thoughts upon Re-Visiting "White Stone":
I took a walkabout to meet with God, and my wandering mind and feet carried me to the pinnacle view of White Stone. It's hard to sit atop God's enormous creation, and not be moved. My senses could hardly grasp the panorama, and I found myself taking mental screen shots where they might make more sense on a calendar. The wind nudged my frame and cut through my sweatshirt - like the Spirit, a force of God we cannot see or control, but moves us. I awaited the Word of The Lord, and shivered both in flesh and spirit. Amen.