The Pidgin word for "child" is "pikinini." While I was in PNG, I was constantly surrounded by children who served as my little guardian angels. One of the hardest things for me leaving home was saying goodbye to the love of my life: my three year old sister, Sloane. God, knowing my difficulty with this, surrounded me with many adorable children through whom He communicated His love for me as well as encouraged me. During my stay in the Pasiloke Village in West New Britian, I encountered the actual lifestyle I was trained to live during orientation. This lifestyle included using a pit toilet, bathing in a river, doing laundry in that river, sleeping under a mosquito net, and eating foods provided by the generous people who owned a local garden. By the way, I am more than grateful to report that I did not see a single snake during my entire stay in PNG (see earlier post below). Living this kind of lifestyle is completely foreign to me. I love indoor plumbing, electricity, hot showers, and my hair does better in air conditioning. It must have been obvious to the pikininis that I was not used to living this way and they were always around to help me with anything that appeared to be difficult. However, even though they were more than helpful, I'm sure I must have been the cause of a few giggles every now and then. The first hurdle I had to jump was the food. Everyday, without fail, I could count on eating rice, cooked bananas, and aibika (a leafy green with a somewhat slimy texture). Also, I could usually plan on eating only one meal a day. The Bola people would only eat crackers with their tea for breakfast, no lunch, and one big meal for dinner. This was extremely difficult, and it was apparently clear to these kids that I was really hungry all the time. Every time they came to see me, they always brought me fresh fruit such as pommalo, paupau, bananas, mandarin oranges, coolou, and some weird looking custard fruit that I could have sworn was an animal at first glance.
In addition to feeding me, the pikininis also accompanied me daily to the river for my bath. The river was about a ten minute walk from my house (fifteen depending on the mud) and they hated the idea of me walking by myself. Also for some reason, the Papua New Guineans HATE when white skins fall down. I have no idea why but I think it's so sweet to see the nationals express their concern by sticking close by with a hand on a white skin to make sure they don't "pun down." Once I made it to the river, the children stood close by to make sure no one bothered my stuff. One day after my bath, I decided to wash my laundry while I was down there. There were plenty of children and other women there as well. The women did their washing as the children played in the water. I was struggling and it was obvious. Before I knew it, almost all the children at the river formed an assembly line and assisted me. After we were done, I threw my laundry bag full of wet clothes on top of my head as the other women had demonstrated and walked back to my house. I had thought that I was alone on my walk back but then I heard some giggles behind me and I turned around to see about ten pikinins following me in a single file line with their water baskets on top of their heads. This is one of many moments that I wished I had had a camera with me. It was so cute!
Sometimes when the children came to visit me, they would sing worship songs while I sat and listened. Other times, we were forced to sit in silence because of the language barriers. However, they didn't seem to mind and we enjoyed the silent company of each other. Sometimes, they would ask me to tell them about America and I would tell them about season changes, snow, the big cities, the country life, and of course I would tell them all about my family. They would always ask to see pictures of Sloane because they weren't used to seeing a little blonde girl with blue eyes. They would pass her picture around and kiss it.
One of the childrens' favorite things to do was play with my hair. It was never uncommon for three of four of them to be braiding my hair all at once. One girl in particular (Tracy) would come every Sunday to braid my hair before church. We couldn't talk to each other very much, so as she braided my hair, I prayed for her. Tracy was one child that I particularly fell in love with. She always made me feel loved and she always greeted me with a big smile. Before I left, Tracy brought me a necklace and earrings which priced for about K15 (fifteen kina PNG money). This was huge for her to do this because K15 would be about a months worth of selling vegetables at the local market.
Being around the Papua New Guinean children was a sweet gift from God. Much as it was difficult for me to leave my family in the United States, it became difficult once again to leave my new family. I wanted so much to tell these children about Jesus and about His love for them in their own language or to have them understand my language. But somehow I have great peace in knowing that the ultimate Lover of pikininis has and will continue to make it abundantly clear to them and even more so now that they have God's Word in their heart language.
In Mark 10:29-30, Jesus says, "Truly, I say to you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands, for my sake and for the sake of the Gospel, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this time..." So I left my home for a summer. I left my family who I love very much and missed terribly while in PNG. But God blessed me a hundredfold with an additional family to love, and a new people to minister to. But more than that, they loved me and ministered to me which is more than what I could have asked for or expected. So my prayer request is that you pray for the children of the Pasiloke village. Pray that they grow into young men and women who love God's Word and are zealous for good works. Pray for their salvation and that from that small village, God would raise up men and women who would reach the nations with the Gospel. Pray that they don't become consumed in the daily activities that consume the lives of the Bola people nor that they become consumed in the destructive lifestyles which lead to death. Pray that the God of salvation would claim the children of this village for His very own purpose.
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