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| Letter from Papua New Guinea: heavens above | Letter from Papua New Guinea: heavens above |
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| It had all started with an innocuous conversation high up in the hills above Simbai village in Papua New Guinea. A 70-year-old, extensively tattooed man called Sampson had described his village, while delicately peeling and eating the largest avocado I had ever seen. This involved repetition of the word "church", gesticulation towards the far hillside and then, enigmatically the finger wandered towards the heavens. This cryptic message bugged me for the rest of the day and when Sampson returned I asked if it was possible to visit his village. He smiled broadly, nodded and watched as I started to pack the archaeology equipment. As usual that involved disentangling a bevy of curious children who were enjoying crawling through the legs of the surveying equipment. | It had all started with an innocuous conversation high up in the hills above Simbai village in Papua New Guinea. A 70-year-old, extensively tattooed man called Sampson had described his village, while delicately peeling and eating the largest avocado I had ever seen. This involved repetition of the word "church", gesticulation towards the far hillside and then, enigmatically the finger wandered towards the heavens. This cryptic message bugged me for the rest of the day and when Sampson returned I asked if it was possible to visit his village. He smiled broadly, nodded and watched as I started to pack the archaeology equipment. As usual that involved disentangling a bevy of curious children who were enjoying crawling through the legs of the surveying equipment. |
| We were keen to reach the village before nightfall and so hurried down the hill-slope. At one stage I turned a corner at high speed to find a huge gap, spanned by a painfully thin tree trunk. With no time to stop I gave a fearsome cry and careered across the bridge, narrowly avoiding the precipice on the other side. Soon after, the deeply concerned face of Sampson appeared around the bend. Outside the village we met an old lady carrying a large bundle of wood. She grabbed one of my hands and began talking animatedly at Sampson, pointing accusingly at his chest and the increasingly dark sky. The implication was clear; however, Sampson's expression remained fiercely determined and we crested the ridge to stand in front of a church and four, small houses. | We were keen to reach the village before nightfall and so hurried down the hill-slope. At one stage I turned a corner at high speed to find a huge gap, spanned by a painfully thin tree trunk. With no time to stop I gave a fearsome cry and careered across the bridge, narrowly avoiding the precipice on the other side. Soon after, the deeply concerned face of Sampson appeared around the bend. Outside the village we met an old lady carrying a large bundle of wood. She grabbed one of my hands and began talking animatedly at Sampson, pointing accusingly at his chest and the increasingly dark sky. The implication was clear; however, Sampson's expression remained fiercely determined and we crested the ridge to stand in front of a church and four, small houses. |
| In one of these houses we chewed betel nut, talked incoherently to one another and watched nonchalant chickens wandering through the hut. Children peered through the door and window. Sampson then led the way to the church and knelt to pray on the dirt floor. I cast my eyes around my new surroundings to see a building made up almost entirely of wood and pandanus palm fronds. The only European building materials were heavily corroded metal window frames. The glass panels had long since broken and these had been replaced with pandanus leaves. Above our heads a large hole revealed a plethora of stars that twinkled and seemed to ask "Is this church roof high enough for you?" | In one of these houses we chewed betel nut, talked incoherently to one another and watched nonchalant chickens wandering through the hut. Children peered through the door and window. Sampson then led the way to the church and knelt to pray on the dirt floor. I cast my eyes around my new surroundings to see a building made up almost entirely of wood and pandanus palm fronds. The only European building materials were heavily corroded metal window frames. The glass panels had long since broken and these had been replaced with pandanus leaves. Above our heads a large hole revealed a plethora of stars that twinkled and seemed to ask "Is this church roof high enough for you?" |
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