*This is the second of a seven-part series about our pre-allocation trip to the Mubami people of Western Province, Papua New Guinea. The purpose of our trip was to discern God’s will regarding us potentially starting a new Bible translation project in the Mubami language, which currently has no Scripture.

Day 2, February 28, 2018

This morning we sat around on the porch of the church building and chatted with people as they came by. We got to meet various church leaders and church members and Pastor Max busied himself most of the day trying to arrange a ride for us to Sogae via one of the logging trucks going through the area.

Sitting on the porch of Saloma Local Church

After an early lunch (more rice and tuna), we went to visit Waliho, a very hot 1.5km walk from the church we were staying at in Kamusi. While Waliho is just as close to Kamusi as Saloma or any other part of Kamusi it is technically a separate village that relocated to be closer to Kamusi from its original location further down the Guavi River. Waliho relocated closer to Kamusi so that the people could get jobs with the logging company. Since it’s one of the only employers in the area, many of the Mubami people are employed by the logging company in Kamusi.

Walking to Waliho

It seemed to me that we were not as well received in Waliho as we had been at Saloma/Kamusi. There was only one man in the village when we arrived—the rest were in the bush working. There was something in the body language and conversation that left me with the impression that there was some underlying cultural tension that I wasn’t understanding. Then again, it’s equally likely—if not more so!—that I simply misread the situation. Cross-cultural body language is, after all, a tough read! The people told us that the men of the village would be back later that afternoon, so we told them we’d come back then.

Traditional carved canoe at Waliho village

We made our walk back towards the church and stopped at a trade store to buy an umbrella. I used to feel silly walking around with an umbrella when it was sunny and not raining, but after walking a while in the hot, tropical sun, you get over such matters of pride quickly! I was surprised by the variety of items available at the trade store. There was a boat motor, a couple bicycles, some cheap plastic toys, a few small solar panels, umbrellas, some clothes, and a variety of basic foodstuffs, among other items. It was a far cry from Wal-Mart and most of the items appeared to be relatively poor quality, but if you were in a pinch, they might suffice for a little while.

When we got back to the church at Saloma, we sat around for a little while chatting with people. There seemed to be a constant stream of visitors, curious to see who the visitors to their area were. There was a heavy rain in the afternoon, so we waited for it to pass and then made our trip back to Waliho to see if we could catch the men who would have returned from the bush by then. Unfortunately, we found that the men had indeed returned from the bush to the village, but then had departed again. We don’t know whether they intended to give us a “cold shoulder” or if perhaps they just had a lot of work to do that day. But, since you never know what people’s intentions are, it’s always best to assume well unless you know otherwise. The women and children were more than happy to see us, though, so we shared with them why we had come and took some pictures.

Waliho village

On our way back, we stopped by another neighborhood in Kamusi which has a second ECPNG church. Several houses surround the church and most of the people living in this area have relocated here to Kamusi from Ugu village, the southernmost Mubami[i] village. The church is called “Kamusi Urban,” somewhat of a misnomer if you ask me because, despite the relative development in Kamusi from the logging camp, it’s still a far cry from “urban.” We were told that Kamusi Local Church (aka, Saloma Rural Church) had been planted as a branch of Kamusi Urban for the express purpose of reaching Mubami speakers. The logging company has brought in a large influx of workers from all over the country, so the church services at Kamusi Urban are led in English or Tok Pisin, the languages of wider communication in PNG, and the pastor is a non-Mubami speaking Gogodala man. But, since most of the Mubami don’t know these languages, they were not being well served in these services. So, a group of the Mubami—with the blessing and help of Kamusi Urban—planted a sister church in Saloma to minister to Mubami speakers.

Ugu village resettlement in Kamusi
Kamusi Urban Church

I found that encouraging for a couple reasons. First, it clearly demonstrates the need for a Mubami translation. If the Mubami people had enough trouble understanding basic announcements and sermons in English and Tok Pisin, how much more difficult would it be for them to read Scripture in these languages? Second, it demonstrated to me clearly that they understood that spiritual matters simply can’t be communicated well in a second language. Anyone who has ever tried to preach or share the gospel in a second language knows this struggle well. Abstract concepts like “grace,” “salvation,” “faith,” and even “love” are difficult to translate on the fly and they are always interpreted through a cultural lens. Language includes much more than simply letters and definitions, there’s a whole host of cultural information that is implied or assumed as well. The Mubami understand that and are willing to do what is necessary to make sure their people understand God’s Word as best they can. Unfortunately, that ability is seriously hampered by their lack of a Mubami Bible.

[i] Actually, the people from Ugu are quite insistent that their name is not “Mubami” but “Dausami.” They argue that “Mubami” was a name given by Australian colonial workers to their people and is derived from the name of the bones they traditionally wore in their noses. Everyone else that we met (not from Ugu village) insisted that “Mubami” was the original name and “Dausami” was the name given by Australian colonials to the people and is derived from their traditional dreadlocks which they called dauso. In either case, the Mubami now have neither nosebones nor dreadlocks and everyone seemed to agree that they speak the same language, with some minor dialectical differences. This will be an interesting sociolinguistic puzzle for us to explore over the years!

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