I Like to Whisper too

Kellian poked at the glowing coals the other night in the cook shed, reaching toward the fire to test their heat.  "Still hot?" I asked.  He whispered, "Yes."  Papuans seem to whisper when possible, often times while breathing in.  So I leaned toward his ear and whispered 'good' (think of the movie Elf when Will Farrell delivers the line 'I like to whisper too').  I thought this was hilarious, but I composed myself.  

Kellian met me at the airport along with Scotty, the director, and Elu, the other adventure team leader.  Their restrained enthusiasm when meeting me melted my heart.  We all bonded through those many hours to Bokondini in the truck.  Mucking through those mountain passes in a four-wheel-drive vehicle creates relationships.  All reason would tell me 'if we drive up that way we will roll off this mountain'- but we continued.  At several points the road seemed to disappear, and I thought 'I guess we'll walk from here'.  We proceeded, 'oh, we're going down there'.  

Kellian's 's the kind of guy who knew me for five minutes but would lay down in traffic for me.  As we rolled into Bok, Scotty said, "David, you'll be living there with Kellian".  My new housemate grinned with pride.  After a late dinner with Scotty and Heidi, Kellian and I conversed into the night.  His brothers are political refugees in Papua New Guinea, his sister's husband left her with child for her best friend (and now another wife), and his father is a pastor who is dying from lung cancer.  He's eighteen years old.  He's so excited about what he's learned at Netaiken that he's going home to tell his village.  He's writing a research paper on the societal effect of tribalism and animism in Papua, a very controversial topic.  While he's home, he'll interview the most powerful men in his village, facing potential ostracism.  Our conversation didn't stop when the power was cut at 10:30 pm, we grabbed a candle and a headlamp.

We sat around that fire in the cook shed the next night because Kellian bought a chicken to celebrate my arrival.  He flayed the bird and jammed it onto a two-pronged stick he sharpened with my pocket knife.  The coals gently lit our contrasting faces as we watched the chicken with anticipation and discussed all topics of life.

If ever I think I came here to teach the Papuans, I ought to guess again.