July 13^th through July 29^th, 2007  Papua New Guinea 

We set off for our grand adventure to Papua New Guinea (PNG).  This is a trip that I have been looking forward to since 1986 when the first Southwest team went to PNG and came back with stories of service, hardship, and, yes, adventure.  I was envious.  The pictures, the culture, the work, the new experiences and the rugged outdoors had an appeal for me.  Eighteen months ago when Mike Harbin introduced the idea of helping our living link missionary Martha Wade, to build a literacy center. I knew I that I was in. 

Twenty years ago I was not in a life position to take a month off.  I had a wife and three young children and no reserve income to go to a third world country.  Pamela, my wife, even then encouraged me to go.  In 1986, I just could not make the commitment of time, money and family leave.  Time has a way of changing things.  My kids are grown, my work can be covered by others, my wife, always supportive, and I was ready to go.  I worried about whether I would make the cut, since I was older by twenty years. I just wanted the opportunity to serve.    

I wrote an email to Mike Harbin selling my capabilities.  I told him that I was very handy around the house.  I worked for a time in the carpentry trades; I was in pretty good shape as I am a runner having completed three marathons this year and I could take the time off to go.  Mike Harbin let me know that I was in.  He also let me know very quickly that I hardly had to sell myself.  I was “old” but not the oldest, and my desire to serve and not my experiences qualified me to go. 

Two months out, I prepared a list of what I might need for a trip such as this.  Several things concerned me, water, mosquitoes, and sleeping arrangements.  I made sure that I carried a water filter for any nasty microbes.  I also purchased ample mosquito repellent and a good sleeping bag and air mattress.  I also brought my tent and hammock.  You will hear about these later.   

Two weeks out, I got serious about collecting what I needed.  Pamela gave me a gift card to REI which is my favorite outdoor store.  Norm, my youngest son, gave me a back pack which came in very handy for the trip.  With the gift card, I bought one more set of outdoor clothes, a water filter and three bottles of mosquito repellent, (100% Deet.)   I also bought bags of trail mix for nourishment and drink mixes for the water.

Two days out, I was driving my wife crazy.  All my stuff was laid out all over the house.  I compared the "stuff" to my list several times.  I did not want to forget anything.  Since we were only allowed to carry 40 lbs, I knew that it was going to be tight.  I packed up and weighed everything.  I could not get it below the requirements and hoped to make adjustments later if they were not to accept it.  I set two alarm clocks.  I did not want to miss my flight.  No problem. 

I dragged my wife out of the house in plenty of time.  She was gracious enough to take me to the airport.  My bags were nearly bursting.  I met up with the rest of the group of seven at the airport.  Some members from the Southwest Christian Church came out early to see us off.  It was good to have them there.  We had prayer for our safe journey, return and successful work.   

My worries for the group were health related.  Since Mike Harbin, our team leader, is a pharmacist and Martha Wade deals regularly in jungle medicine, I figured that we were in good hands.  If some were to get ill or injured, we were at best hours from the nearest hospital and at worst days.  Dysentery, injury and malaria would be a constant threat.  Everyone in the group was over 50 except for Pete Dockery.   

So this band of seven heads off to the wilds of PNG.  The Seven are:

All of us were called to this adventure just to service.  Martha Wade has been in the bush of New Guinea for more than twenty years.  She serves the Apali Language people in their village of Angguna.  Angguna is not on any map that I could find.  Only GPS coordinates allowed us to find the village on Google Earth.  The internet site points to a brown area in the jungle that marks the spot where Martha lives.   

Our trip to Angguna in a word was brutal.  Thirty hours in a plane over two days will beat up anyone.  We flew from Atlanta to Detroit and then from Detroit to Narita, Japan.  From Japan we flew to Port Moresby, the capitol of New Guinea, and then to Madang, the capitol of the province.  We were dead tired once we traveled overnight from Japan to Port Moresby.  We arrived to this large island in the South Pacific with few lights visible on the ground and a runway that seemed from another world.  Palm trees and grass huts lined the runway.  We walked into the “International Terminal” that would have to take second place to the one in Peachtree City’s Airport.  As the bags left the plane, I felt uneasy.  After someone said, “I see my bag.”  I felt a little better.  Everyone got their luggage except me.  I had two bags and neither one made it to PNG.  I was sick with grief.  While in Japan, I did not feel good about the connection that we made to Air Niugini, the national airline of New Guinea.  I had a gut feeling that we needed to get physical possession of the bags before we checked them on Air Niugini, but we were assured by two agents that they would be transferred to Air Niugini and meet us at the Port Moresby airport.  As a precaution, I had put everything that I did not want to lose or could not get along without like a passport in my backpack.  I carried this on my possession.  I am glad that I did.  Everything I had now was what I was carrying on my back.  I hoped that my camera would keep me warm at night.  

Someone made a joke about it but I was in no joking mood.  I surveyed my lost.  All my preparation had been for naught.  Air Niugini promised to do everything that they could to get the bag to me in Madang.  I was going to be in the bush tomorrow and I knew they would not be able to courier them to me.  UPS does not deliver to the village of Angguna.  Such is traveling.  

Upon waiting for the flight to Madang at Port Moresby, we were introduced to third world life.  The waiting benches were very simple, the floors were carpeted but very dirty, the snack bar was a hot plate and a few plastic cups.  Our wait even though six hours seemed like forever.  We had two delays with no explanations.  During this wait, I was cornered by a young national whose teeth and mouth was stained blood red.  At first I thought that he had been in a fight, but later surmised that he had eaten something.  I asked him what he was eating and he said it was “bitter nut” or “beetle nut.”  This was our first introduction to this practice.  It is chewed virtually by everyone, including the men, women, and children.  It stains the teeth and mouth red.  It is a locally grown nut which is sold widely.  They chew the nut with a mixture of calcium carbonate (lime) and this combination releases a narcotic which give them a sense of euphoria and energy.  It also destroys the teeth.   

This young man tried to engage me in talking about his efforts to find a job.  He told me that he was college educated in civil engineering and that he was willing to take any job at this point.  I did not feel comfortable talking with him.  The conversation felt manipulative in that he frequently talked about “white skins” and “all their excess money.”  I looked to our band of seven to rescue me, but they left me to my own devices.  Soon, after about 45 minutes, we parted our ways and I headed for the safety of the interior of the terminal.   

Another first introduction, was the presence of an audience of nationals.  Our conversation was witnessed by a couple of little boys from Port Moresby.  “White skins” as we are called are respected and envied for our wealth and opportunities for advancement.  “Cargo Culture” thinking is still very wide spread.  “White Skins” have special access to the cargo spirit.  This spirit makes all technology and equipment.  Their primitive experiences and thinking has no way of understanding how things are made.  Things seem to just appear with the appearance of Europeans.  “White Skins” talk on radio and all of a sudden things like cargo appear out of the sky and sea.  This was the first of many beliefs in the PNG culture that we learned.   

We continue to wait at the Port Moresby airport.  For refreshment they provided little plastic cups that held no more than three ounces of something that looked and tasted like orange juice.  Everyone in the waiting room seemed to know that the refreshments were ready.  Upon some unseen signal, everyone except us got up to get the refreshments.  Our group was the last to get something.  The plane did arrive and after about a one hour flight we arrived in Madang to an airport arriving terminal which was a little more than a shed.  Here we met for the first time our guardian angels.  The Pioneer Bible Translators (PBT) is a missionary support organization that provides assistance to missionaries involved in translating the Bible to the language of the native’s tongue.  Over the course of the trip, I became aware of not only the importance of the work of the Southwest Church through Martha Wade, but the work of so many others that support the work and the work of other missionaries.  Alone, one missionary could not do the work of ministering in a primitive environment like PNG.  It takes a team to support the work.  They need logistical assistance, respite care, transportation and technological supports.   

The Pioneer Bible Translators came out to the airport to greet us.  They were not only supporting us but supporting the work of Martha Wade.  This group was with us every step of our journey.  They made sure that we had transportation, provided safe overnight housing in Madang, meals while there, and were our guides in the city and out.  Mark and Nancy Ann Wilt personally were our chauffeurs while in Madang. PBT came to my rescue in my lost luggage.  They assured me that they would work on getting my bags or they would get me what I needed if they had it.  

Madang streets were filled with people.  People walked everywhere.  Trucks with scores of people in them filled the dusty two lane black top streets.  These roads were no more than tar covered gravel with huge pot holes that often swallowed even the four wheeled drive vehicles that we were in.  Speeds were limited to no more than 25 miles per hour.  Downtown Madang was a collection of poorly maintained store fronts and a post office.  It seemed like a circa 1930’s Florida town and just as hot.  Every building was secured either with a tall concrete wall or a fence with barbed wire.  The windows were often tripled barred.   

When we arrived in Madang, we were hot and sweaty.  We had been traveling for more than two days with no change of clothes.  Some of us did not smell their best.  We could hardly stand to be around each other.  I think out of self defense they took us to a “transition house” to get a shower and spend the night.  It was a comfortable frame house with Florida windows and ceiling fans and no AC.  The shower and bed were welcomed.  Jet lag was affecting all of us. 

Before we left for our lodging, Nancy Ann Wilt like a staff sergeant commanded us to give her everything that we did not need in the bush.  She took our wallets, passports, money, credit cards and locked them away.  I knew then that we were not in Kansas anymore.  We were about to go into the bush where money and identification was not needed.  In some ways it felt very liberating.  How different and strange. 

After a good night’s sleep, we are transported by PBT to the airport to board a missionary fellowship plane to fly into the bush.  Our weight and the weight of our gear are carefully monitored.  PBT has arranged for other supplies to be brought into Angguna.   

Everything either has to be brought in by plane or boat and sometimes both.  We and our supplies were arriving by plane and helicopter.  Three trips were made to Pasinkap where we were to connect with a helicopter.  Pasinkap is a bush air field.  It is no more than a grassy strip in the middle of the jungle.  Tall grass can close it and it did on our way out.   

I was on the second plane trip on the way in.   Three of my cohorts were waiting to meet us at Pasinkap upon my arrival.  The trip took about twenty minutes in a small 4 seater plane.  The pilot flew so close to the trees that I thought that I could touch them.  I wondered if the plane would clear the mountain range outside of Madang.  We had only tens of feet to spare.  He did not seem worried, so neither did I worry.  I enjoyed the beauty of the country.  I saw village after village, waterfalls and lust green jungle canopy.   

As we arrived at Pasinkap, I could see children running to meet the airplane.  Dozens of people both adults and children arrived to greet us.  They were dressed in the rejects of the clothing world.  T-shirts advertising everything from beer to fun runs were worn.  Most wore shorts that were thread bear.  None wore shoes.  Alls seemed to have feet larger than their physiques would indicate.  I expected that they would smell as odorous as us.  I never was offended by their odor.  They smelled more like hay, which was not offensive.  So much for Westerners sense of hygiene (interesting to me anyway.)

They were not a “easy to smile” population.  Their countenance usually was one of consternation.  In their culture a smile indicates shame and ridiculousness.  Martha Wade was asked if we should smile.  She said, “Sure you can smile if you want to look shameful and ridiculous.  They will not mind.   I found that after a while, smiles came more easily to them. 

At Pasinkap, I found that they loved to have their pictures taken.  They laughed at themselves.  The kids would say something like “mea.”  I took it to mean “This is me.”  I could hear them calling the names of those they recognized in the camera.  Adults and children loved this picture taking.   

We were taken by helicopter to Martha’s Village of Angguna.  It is about a 5 to 10 minute trip.  I regretted that it did not last longer.  We were at tree top level.  The villagers of Angguna gathered in mass to greet us.  It was a surreal experience to be dropped down in her village.  The houses (I call them huts) were no bigger than 12x12 feet.  They were made of palm branches roofs, bamboo walls, tree bark floors on trees trunk stilts.  I felt like at any moment, someone would shout, “cut” and out would run Tarzan.  This was the bush as real as it gets.  Martha is in the bush ministry, ministering to the people of the bush.  They would not have the Bible in their own language unless she was there.  Because of her medical care, they may not be there without her.  The Apali Language group numbers between 500 to 750 people covering a large area of the interior of Madang Province of PNG.  This language group impacts all its neighboring language groups.  Inter-marriage is prohibited and spouses must be taken from other groups.  

Martha Wade was less than demonstrative at our arrival.  It seems that this is a more of the culture than about Martha.  “One does not show emotion”, it is “not proper.”  These ways of thinking were to challenge all of us as we adjusted to life in the village.  None of us wanted to commit a cultural blunder.  I lived in fear that I might do something wrong that might offend.  The PNG people are very forgiving of and the strange ways of the “white skins” as we were called.  

Upon arriving, I wanted to take it all in, the people, the village, Martha’s house, the river, the jungle and its flora and the building site.  I knew that we had ten days and those ten days would fly by. 

The first thing that we set about doing was to set up our camp site. Five men were going to sleep in a bush hut and Doug McNash and I set up a tent borrowed from Martha to sleep in.  The Villagers had cut down some “saw grass” for us to set up our tents.  They used the “slash and burn” technology of their agriculture.  They would cut the vegetation back with bush knives and let it dry in the sun for a few days and then burn it.  This burned patch of ground in the middle of the village puzzled us until I realized that it was here they wanted us to put our tents.  We obliged.   

The weather was fairly constant on our visit.  The highs were usually around 90 degrees and the lows in the lower 70’s.  Humidity was high.  It reminded me of summer time weather in Atlanta.  Living and working outside was uncomfortable but tolerable.  The heat did not seem to bother the natives.  They were more discomforted by the cool at night.  It never got below 70 degrees, but I saw one man sleeping by his fire early in the morning.   

When we got to the worksite and surveyed what we needed to do, we found that the posts that were to support the building had already been set.  The building was to be 12 feet off the ground.  We had to build from there.  Floor boards had to be laid, plywood nailed and walls put up with a roof.  All this sounded easy on paper but there was a lot of work that needed to be done in a short period of time. 

All building materials had to be brought in via plane or boat.  All the lumber either came from the bush or via boat.  The wood was first quality except the dimensions were not always consistent.  Sometimes a 2x2 was a 2x1 or a 2x3 or even a 1x1.  It was good enough for God’s work.  He redeemed a lot in the jungle.  When plans had to be changed, Frank Sanders had a saying, “it is all part of the perfect plan.” 

Frank was our job site foremen.  A young man of thirty-five years, brought a lot of experience in the bush and construction.  He is an Australian and serves with the Australian Churches of Christ Missionary Society.  These churches came out of the Restoration movement from the States.  This group did much of the initial evangelism in the bush of PNG in the early 80’s using indigenous preachers.  They were very successful establishing many churches in the Madang Providence.   

Frank Sanders is a theologian, philosopher, community developer, and an engineer by education.  He combined all these traits with dry, and I mean very dry humor.  It was his way.  He listened politely to suggestions but usually ignored them.  Negotiating ways of doing the construction was not an option.  He was always polite but insistent that we do it his way.  The problem was that he was right virtually all the time.  He was the hardest worker among us.  He was the first on the work site and the last to leave.   He has his own blog. 

He never complained and wore his uniform with pride.  It wore a tan kaki pocketed bush shirt with tan kaki shorts and tall tan work boots.  He philosophized about how his uniform inspired work.  He admits that he was not an extrovert.  Unmarried, he was making plans to marry a beauty in Australia.   

Frank's colleague in the work was Joseph.  He became our translator in the work.  Without him, we would not have been able to communicate with the locals. He understood English very well and was able to translate into the local trade language our requests.  He was good spirited, always helpful, and an encouragement to be around.  He was from the Sepik Region of PNG.  He is a Christian and his faith was why he was there.  By trade, he was a craver of beautiful story boards.   His work can be seen in the Southwest Church.  He was working on one of his story boards while we were there.  Almost magically, the wood came to life.  The skill comes from traditional skills passed down from generation to generation originally used by warring tribes to make war shields. 

Early on, the need for flooring for the veranda was needed.  Plywood was not an option.  The men of the village needed to go into the jungle and cut what I heard as “vinboom.”  I called it “jungle linoleum.”  I offered “to help” go get it.  It really was a reason to go into the jungle to watch the expert bush people do what they do best, “living off the jungle for virtually everything.”  Ten Angguna men ventured into the bush with nothing more than “bush knives” and axes.  They used Martha’s boat to go down river for the special tree to make vinboom.  They wore no shoes and no shirt.  I was concerned about mosquitoes and snakes.  If they had any concerns, they did not let on.  

With an axe, they could chop a tree down almost as fast as I could with a chain saw.  The men were muscular and strong with enormous endurance.  They enjoyed talking about their work.  They allowed me a try at it.  Vinboom is made from the outer layer of a tree.  It really could not be called the bark of the tree for the tree was more like a palm with a soft inner core.  The log is split with the core exposed.  The core is cut up and literally dug out with a sharp shovel.  The remaining outer layer is rolled up and used for bush flooring.  It is used in all their huts.   

They loaded Martha’s boat up so that the water was an inch from the top deck.  With only an inch to spare from the water’s edge, I feared for it tipping over.  Safety is a real concern for the villagers.  No one wore life preservers and I never saw concern on their faces.  I only saw their amusement at my reactions.   

The kids of the village carried the flooring from the river which is about a half mile hike through the jungle.  The kids did a lot of the work of the village.  They could carry their own weight in loads.  I never saw them complain or even refuse to do something.   

We settled into a pattern for the work.  We were up before dawn.  The roosters of the village started crowing every morning at 3:30 am.  They stopped after about 10 minutes.  Then at precisely 4:35 they started up again and continued until dawn.  There was no sleeping pass 4:35 even if one wanted to.  Since we generally went to bed by 8:00 pm, it was OK.  We usually started work a little before 7:00 pm.  It started getting hot about 10:00 am.  About this time, and again at 4:00 pm, Martha would make her way up the hill to the building site to bring us hot coffee and a snack.  It is a welcomed break.   

Martha had a theory (which I did not subscribe) that hot liquids on a hot day cools a person down.  The coffee and tea was good, so I drank it.  I felt no cooler, though.  Martha was an angel walking up the trail each morning with a back pack over her shoulder with our refreshments.  Martha became more demonstrative each morning (and evening) when she saw the advancing progress of the building.  She would smile from ear to ear.   

Then about noon we would break for lunch till about 2:00 pm.  It was always difficult to head back into the heat of the day from the comforts of Martha’s house.  Don’t get me wrong, Martha does not have air conditioning.  She has several lounge chairs with a ceiling fan that would put us to sleep.  We would work till dark which was about 6:30 pm.  We would hike one half mile to the village to change for our daily bath in the river, whether we needed it or not.  This bath involved another one half mile hike up river from the village to a sandbar.  This bath was always a welcomed break.  The bottom of the river was sandy, the river cleaner than one would expect.  It was fast moving, like a spa, very refreshing.  Not drinkable, but warm enough to be comfortable.  

One night, Curtis stepped into a hole in the river and was swept rapidly downstream.  The quick reactions of others assisted him.  We joked about crocodiles but there was no evidence of them.  Interestingly, fresh water crocs can be found in the river, but we knew that the villager had hunted them to almost extinction from that section of the river.  The most difficult thing about bathing in the river was putting our clothes on while standing bare foot in the sand.  I resorted to bringing a bucket with me so I could wash my feet before I put my pants and shoes on.  We dragged a log to the bank to balance on while we accomplished this feat (no pun intended.)   The others teased me about my bucket and my need for it.  By week’s end, four of the others were washing their feet in my bucket.  It was not foot washing but it came close.  “I came to PNG to serve.”   

The others tolerated me taking a break from work to take pictures of the work in progress.  I was always saying, “Someone needs to document this trip.”  The digital age certainly has made my life as a photographer easier.  I took over 2000 pictures and 2 hours of video tape, most of which will be posted to the internet. 

The villagers loved me taking their pictures.  Some of them came time and again to get their pictures taken.  They were proud of their families, babies, children, houses and occupations.  They would “show off” for the cameras and I loved it.  They often would call out to me if they saw something that they thought might be of interest.  Everything from lizards, pigs, women carrying sticks, gardens, bamboo (they know I loved bamboo), their houses, boats, babies, girls carrying pipes, boys carrying lumber was all fair game for my picture taking.  They always wanted to see the pictures and showed great excitement over them.  

I loved taking pictures of their culture.  They lived off the land and had very little need for money.  Save for medical and educational needs, they satisfied their needs from their traditional land holdings.  They did not know how wealthy they were.  They lived on a beautiful river, in a climate where it never gets cold, with most their needs met by working less than 15 hours per week.  “Another day in paradise,” was often the saying.  They considered us the wealthy ones.  If only they knew. 

Food for the village consisted of mostly sago, fish and small game.  We went to where they were fishing which was a small river not far from the literacy center that we were building.  Whole families were gathered by the river fishing, drying and cleaning fish and smoking them over a fire.  The children played in the water while the adults fished and worked.  Community and family were very important to them.  Their children learned by doing and they were involved in every aspects of adults life.  The men often cared for the babies and openly showed affection for their children.  Young children were expected to provide much of the labor for the family.   

They had pets but they were very utilitarian.  Dogs were for hunting, chickens for eggs and pigs for eating, and birds for looking at.  Animals were cared for based on their value.  I saw many mangy dogs which were not for hunting.  The hunting dogs looked good and well fed.  A pig that the village people were petting one day, was hog tied on a pole being carried to a BBQ the next.  They took great delight is catching it and tying it up.   Even animals have a calling.  The chickens made a contribution, but the pig was called to serve but he was giving everything. 

Even though marriage was not arranged by the family, it had to be approved by the family.  A man could not marry unless he could build his own house, work his own garden and demonstrate that he could provide for his family.  They generally got married very late, sometimes well in their thirties.  Girls often married soon after puberty.  Polygamy is common in some parts of PNG but in “Christian” sections of the country, it is not common.  We met several men who had several wives in Port Moresby.   

The mortality rate for children is very high in PNG and in the village of Angguna.  Children are not often named until their third year.  The parents want to make sure that the child is going to live.  Martha has had a tremendous impact on life expectancy for the children and adults.  Pneumonia and TB and malaria are big killers in the Apali people.  Martha spends much of her day ministering to the medical needs of the village and surrounding areas.  People walk for days to see Martha and for the help that she provides.  Martha has clear guidelines that she applies to the care that she renders.  She does nothing invasive like give injections, surgery or sutures.  She will administer medicine, do first aid, and practice good hygiene for wounds.  The viability of a sustainable population for the village would be threatened if it were not for Martha.  The Pioneer Bible Translators also provide medical transportation for the severely ill villagers.  They will sometime air lift a person out of the jungle to the hospital in Madang.  Care is provided on a triage basis.  Only those who can respond readily to care will be served.  While in the village, I saw every thing brought to Martha from malaria, pneumonia, cuts, and even a tumor. Martha is an angel in paradise.  She not only brings the Word of God, but the hope of modern medicine.  Martha says that the most stressful part of her missionary duties is the medical.   

Everyday people were staying in her front yard waiting to be served.  Mostly it was mothers with their children.  Some of these children were very ill.  Some undoubtedly would not live to see the next day.  Families walked several days to bring their children to Martha.  Martha had a natural report with the people.  She spoke their language fluently.  They respected her and she them. 

PNG seriously entered the modern era only after WWII.  Before that time, very little development or evangelism had occurred.  The spirit world dominated much of PNG.  They believe that all bad things came from the ground or the spirit world.  The “spirit world” still holds great power.  Evil spells can be casted on others and as a result someone may die or get ill.  The courts of PNG still allow lawsuits to be filled against those who have contracted with a “spirit man” to cast an evil spirit.  The belief is very strong even in spite of Christian influences.  The Holy Spirit is all powerful and cast out all evil spirits.   

Revenge killings are still done for retribution for alleged and real wrongs.  Jealousies among villagers and villages cause much of the tensions felt with the people.  They have a “wontoc” economic system.  Family members are expected to help each other.  If one has any excess and another has need, the excess is to be given to meet the need.  “Savings for a rainy day” is not a concept or value in most of PNG.  As a result, the capitalistic system of profit and investment and savings is not widespread. 

 The villagers of Angguna do not have the same sense of time as we Westerner have.  Few knew how old they were.  They did not celebrate birthdays.  The people in the cities knew that it was time for a child to go to school when the child could take their right arm and wrap it over their head and touch their left ear  with the right hand.  They did not have watches or clocks.  They seemed to get up when they wanted to.  They went to bed when the sun went down.  They live by a event driven calendar.  “Advanced planning” is not widely done.  One event leads to another.  Harvest is followed by the clearing of the jungle, the clearing is dried and burned, then the fields are tilled, and so forth the cycle goes.  The building of the literacy center was a major challenge for those reasons.  Everything had to be coordinated so that what was needed was available at the time of need.  Sand for the cement, vinboom for the flooring, bush timber for the floor joists, and all the hardware coordinated so that the building could be built in ten days.  In modern society, this is assumed and happens regularly and even matter of factly.  It is the cause of much of our stress.  In PNG society, such events do not happen except over a multi month schedule.  Only through leadership of Martha Wade and Frank Sanders and the team at Pioneer Bible Translators was this major work of God facilitated.   

Speaking of the support team of PBT, they were invaluable to the success of our trip.  They coordinated everything involved in the logistics of our travel.  When my bags did not arrive at Port Moresby, I expected not to see them again, let alone get them while I was there.  PBT had my bags to me in three days.  They had to coordinate a small plane to Pakinsak with Martha Wade who sent three porters on a two day hike to receive them and other much needed supplies.  These kinds of logistics are worked out all the time in Angguna.   

Everyone on the team expected to lose weight.  The ’86 SW Team loss an average of 20 pounds per person.  Most of our team stayed the same or gained weight.  Celeste Wilt, the 15 year old daughter of Nancy Ann and Mark Wilts of PBT volunteered to be our cook.  She made us three meals a day with two snacks between meals.  Her meals were delicious, filling, and balanced.  We were not lacking in having something to eat.  More on Celeste.  She was an outstanding young lady.  Home schooled, she was two years ahead of schedule in her studies.  She will be a senior in high school this year.  She is one of the most grounded teenagers I have ever met.  Watch her, she will be a leader for God somewhere in the future.   

The Work—Everyone on the team worked hard.  We all knew that we had a lot to do in a very short time.  We only took one half day off on Sunday.  Ridge Boynton and Pete Dockery led in our construction efforts.  The rest of us, mostly, did as we were told.  “I came to PNG to serve” became my mantra.  At times we were all laborers, nailers, porters, runners, screen stretchers, concrete mixers, vinboom layers, security bar installers, and photographers.   

Injury and Illness – Traveling to a foreign country is always fraught with risk.  The risk of injury and illness is especially great in a 3^rd world country.  I fully expected that most of us would come down with some type of stomach bug.  None did.  Martha insured that all the water that we drank was fully filtered through special filters designed to eliminate all sediment or bacteria.  It must have worked, because none of us was sick.   

The risk of injury was great because of the nature of the work that we came to do.  We were doing construction in relatively high places in the heat of the tropics with foreign materials and dealing with others in a foreign language.  All these would conspire to put all of us at risk.  Save for a few scratches and bruises, no one was injured.  The closest someone came to serious injury was Ridge Boynton.  We were putting up the pole for the end cap of the building.  It involved some complicated cuts with a chain saw and the use of sledge hammers to ram the telephone size pole into the end of the building.   Ridge volunteered to do the hammering.   

He was about 15 feet from the ground and successfully getting the pole to go into place.  Upon leaving his high position, he tried to stabilize himself by grabbing hold of a guard rail.  The rail was not yet nailed and gave way.  Reacting, he fell back onto the pole that he had just positioned, but it gave way with him as well.  The pole fell forward with him holding on for dear life.  As if in slow motion the pole came crashing down with people on the ground scrambling to avoid the impending crushing disaster.  The pole narrowly misses Frank Sanders who was on his hands and knees scrambling to avoid getting hit.  The pole came down with a thud.   

Ridge managed to hit the ground with his feet and knees straddling the pole without the pole crushing either leg.  He rolled onto the ground.  Everyone held their breath.  Was his leg broken?  Was he OK?  When Ridge got up, there was a sigh of relief.  He was OK save for a nasty bruise on his knee.  The locals laughed in nervous laughter.  We later learned that they were very angry with Frank Sander for putting Ridge in this danger.  This is the PNG way of thinking.  “Another’s safety is my responsibility if they are my guest,” never mind the crazy stuff others may do to themselves.   

This was the most difficult part for me on the trip.  Their sense of responsibility even though comforting was somewhat limiting.  Being an adventurer by nature, I was not free to just wander into the bush.  They insisted that someone accompany me wherever I went.  I did not fully understand this but respected it.  One night I wanted to walk from the work site where I had a hammock to the village.  I had to wake someone up to walk with me even though I felt perfectly safe in making the half mile hike in the darkness through the jungle.  I had to realize as a “white skin” that I did not understand the subtleties and nuances of the bush, the risks involved or even the culture of which this “safe regard” speaks.  If someone from PNG came to visit me in downtown Atlanta, I most probably would insist on the same protocol.  Particularly at night or even in the day time, there are places that I know not to walk that only as a local I know.   

Communications with the Outside World - Unlike the first team, we had the miracle of satellite phones and email.  The church rented a phone for us to use.  It cost 1.15 per minute to use, but this was a small price to pay to keep in touch.  Celeste had over 400 minutes on her phone that she was going to lose if she did not use them.  She allowed us to use hers. Everyday, I called Pamela, my wife, who did an outstanding job of taking my report on the trip which she emailed to the church.  Martha, too, was emailing reports and pictures from the trip.  We never felt isolated and it was good to hear voices from home. 

The Ministry – I came to learn that the ministry of the Southwest Christian Church through our missionary Martha Wade is much bigger than I had realized.  Sure, she lives in the jungle of PNG.  Sure, she is in one of the most primitive regions of the world.  Sure, she is involved with translating the Bible in their own language.  Our ministry is bigger than that.  SW through Martha Wade is translating the love of God to a people who are in spiritual darkness and in danger of losing their souls at so many levels.  They live in a country that does not even recognize them as a people.  “No one lives in this part of PNG,” was a refrain heard often from Martha.  The government provides no schooling, no medical care, no protection, no police or any other governmental infrastructures that we take for granted in the West.  If you are a person in Angguna and need the police, you must pay their transportation costs.  If you send your child to school, you must pay their tuition.   

Everyday, Martha was caring for the medical needs of the villagers.  There were so many diseases that threaten the village.  Ignorance and lack of information threatens their very existence.  Usually a twin is killed at birth because they believe that the twin was abnormal.  Malnutrition is common in the children from poor diets and lack of eating protein, even though the availability of protein is readily available.  They know little about how diseases spread.  Virus and bacteria is a little known concept.  AIDS is sweeping the country yet has not reached Angguna. Premarital and extra marital sex is common and somewhat accepted.  Girls soon after reaching puberty are under tremendous pressure to be sexually active.  This lends itself to be a ripe breeding ground for the rapid spread of AIDS through the population.  It could be devastating without the Christian witness that this ministry presents.   

Spiritualism, animism, and superstition are still very common.  These beliefs keep the people of PNG in spiritual darkness.  Fear, black magic, revenge, and sin darken their lives.  The light of the gospel is the only thing that is dispelling this darkness. 

The people of Angguna value the faith that Martha shares.  They come to her for medicine and believe that it has power because “she prays with them.”  They know that this prayer has power.  Martha is an indigenous missionary.  She allows the villagers to worship and minister to their own culture in their own time and in their own tongue.  Ten of the village leadership came to her home for our last meal with them.  They spoke highly of Martha and the ministry that she provides. With God’s grace, the support of the church at SW and the prayers of its congregation, the work of the ministry of SW Christian Church through Martha Wade will go on for many years and leave a legacy till the end of this world.   

May God add his blessings to the work of the 2007 Southwest Team to Angguna.  Amen.  

Normer Adams

2007 Southwest Team Member