Peace Child by Don Richardson

Author:Don Richardson [Richardson, Don]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: Sawi (Indonesian people)—Missions
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2005-08-08T04:00:00+00:00

Joining three villages into one was an experiment the Sawi had tried only rarely in living memory—it was the kind of experiment that so readily ended in bloodshed! Even the recent attempt to join just two villages together at the far end of the kidari had ended in the battle which cost Hato his right eye. Little wonder Sawi communities preferred to leave several miles of empty jungle as buffer zones separating them from even their fondest neighbors.

In the present case, the strong inducement which had drawn Kamur, Haenam, and Yohwi together was the novelty and practicality—and perhaps a certain prestige—of living beside two extremely rare beings believed to be a source of potentially limitless supplies of axes, machetes, knives, razor blades, mirrors, fishline, fishhooks, and who knew what else! The people of Kamur knew they had a right to live beside the Tuan for the obvious reason that he had chosen to build his home on their land! Haenam and Yohwi likewise claimed proximity rights because they had made first contact with him.

And so they had agreed to share, to experiment. During the three days it had taken for me to return from Kawem with Carol and Stephen, the men who had helped me build my home had decided they would bring their wives and children also, gathering them out of the deep sago swamps where they normally lived. Working together as whole families, they had hastily erected saurai, “temporary” houses on the ground. These they would use as shelters while they celebrated our arrival, and also while they erected permanent anep, “high” houses before the monsoon rains flooded the swamps.

Thus we were delighted when, after that first drum-shattered night among the Sawi, the light of a new day revealed the evidence that three entire villages intended to reside permanently around us. We knew this would greatly facilitate our interaction with the tribe, and also increase our ability to provide the medical help they so desperately needed.

For the better part of three days and nights the entire populace had continued their drum-beating, singing and dancing—save for one memorable interruption when the MAF float plane returned for its second landing on the Kronkel, bringing, among other things, a small radio transmitter, our only means of immediate communication with the outside world. Once the marathon celebration ended, most of the people had, like Hato, returned to their jungle dwellings to gather supplies of food prior to beginning work on their permanent homes at the new village site.

It was now about a week since our arrival, and the people had just returned from the jungle in good spirits, their canoes laden with fresh provisions—but almost immediately the camaraderie they had enjoyed during the three days of dancing had vanished as Kamur and Haenam clashed in front of our home. We marveled at how quickly their attitudes could change.

Prospects for the future of our newly assembled community looked grim indeed. If only we could restrain them from actual bloodshed until we had time to learn their language, we thought, then perhaps we could hold the three villages together.

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