So I returned with my father and mother (who'd never been to PNG), 57 years after my dad left.
We were welcomed in Simbai by many friends old and new. Steven and Aiden, eldest sons of Wengi and Kanimnep, were first to greet us at the airstrip, and Wengi’s daughters gave us a traditional sing sing escort to our guest house. It was a day of greetings, sing sings and smiles, and a hint at what was to come - the Wengis had planned a day of welcome activities the following day, with a ribbon cutting of a new guest house on a ‘donkey trek’, of which we only knew a few snatches. We also met Lyn, a priest from Norfolk UK who has settled in Simbai with her husband Tony for the last year working tirelessly to help the village and its people in every way imaginable. Sadly Tony was in Mt Hagen but Lyn greeted us so warmly and spent days with us with such joy, generosity and kindness.
I was expecting a memorable welcome, but nothing could have prepared us for what followed the next day.
We walked into town from the guest house with a number of escorts, and were greeted by a traditional sing sing, beckoning us up the hill, with seemingly the rest of the village there to watch and welcome. This was not like any sing sing I’d seen before however, as the songs called my name and my father’s, and we learnt that new songs had been written specifically to welcome us. They sang of how we were walking in the footsteps of my father and of the donkeys; we were enveloped by the singers, circling us and moving us up the hill, like dolphins moving a shoal of fish.
We passed under arches made of leaves and flowers, and arrived at the bottom of a hill. A path has been freshly cut into it, and at the bottom was a screen made of banana leaves, with a sign - ‘Welcome to Courage family’, and drawing of a donkey above the word ‘track’. This is their plan - to open a new trek for tourists, that follows in reverse the route my father, Wengi, Kanimnep and 4 donkeys took between Simbai and Aimone. At the top of the hill is a new guest house, literally just finished, the result of the hard work of many hands in the community. This day was the ribbon cutting, and a major celebration.
The sing sing group had progressed to the top of the hill, and were working their way down as we went up, still singing and drumming. My father had to break down the plant screen, behind which was Wengi’s wife and many hugs. We were given flower garlands, and at the top of the hill was a beautifully constructed guest house, with flowers pushed into the matted walls, as well as another traditional building and a room for eating, all with amazing views over the village and highlands.
A huge amount of people were sitting up on the hill, and we were sat as guests of honour opposite a screened podium, from where speeches are given by many in Simbai, including the priest and Steven, and then by my father, myself and my mother. The themes were consistent - of the joy of families, of coming together in communities and across borders and cultures, and the impact of friendship.
We visit the wonderful guest house, my father cutting the garland ribbon, and the celebrations continue with the killing and cooking of pigs, and feasts for all. I slept in the new guest house, my brain buzzing with the echoes of song and dance, handshakes and hugs. I felt like I really understood what ‘mindblowing’ truly means – the magic of the day was almost too much to process, me and my family being the focus of such extraordinary friendship and celebration, it was overwhelming. A day that showed the just how strongly friendships and bonds can be formed out here, it was extraordinarily uplifting.
Lyn told us that she has seen many incredible welcomes in her year here, but none that were like this. It can be hard for volunteers to know what impact their hard work and difficult times leave behind, but this clearly showed the long standing impact my father’s friendship made.
PNG is still a very young country, with many rough edges, but it has something that we have lost - the true spirit of community, of families truly living together, and many families coming together to work and play as a community.
We were welcomed in Simbai by many friends old and new. Steven and Aiden, eldest sons of Wengi and Kanimnep, were first to greet us at the airstrip, and Wengi’s daughters gave us a traditional sing sing escort to our guest house. It was a day of greetings, sing sings and smiles, and a hint at what was to come - the Wengis had planned a day of welcome activities the following day, with a ribbon cutting of a new guest house on a ‘donkey trek’, of which we only knew a few snatches. We also met Lyn, a priest from Norfolk UK who has settled in Simbai with her husband Tony for the last year working tirelessly to help the village and its people in every way imaginable. Sadly Tony was in Mt Hagen but Lyn greeted us so warmly and spent days with us with such joy, generosity and kindness.
I was expecting a memorable welcome, but nothing could have prepared us for what followed the next day.
We walked into town from the guest house with a number of escorts, and were greeted by a traditional sing sing, beckoning us up the hill, with seemingly the rest of the village there to watch and welcome. This was not like any sing sing I’d seen before however, as the songs called my name and my father’s, and we learnt that new songs had been written specifically to welcome us. They sang of how we were walking in the footsteps of my father and of the donkeys; we were enveloped by the singers, circling us and moving us up the hill, like dolphins moving a shoal of fish.
We passed under arches made of leaves and flowers, and arrived at the bottom of a hill. A path has been freshly cut into it, and at the bottom was a screen made of banana leaves, with a sign - ‘Welcome to Courage family’, and drawing of a donkey above the word ‘track’. This is their plan - to open a new trek for tourists, that follows in reverse the route my father, Wengi, Kanimnep and 4 donkeys took between Simbai and Aimone. At the top of the hill is a new guest house, literally just finished, the result of the hard work of many hands in the community. This day was the ribbon cutting, and a major celebration.
The sing sing group had progressed to the top of the hill, and were working their way down as we went up, still singing and drumming. My father had to break down the plant screen, behind which was Wengi’s wife and many hugs. We were given flower garlands, and at the top of the hill was a beautifully constructed guest house, with flowers pushed into the matted walls, as well as another traditional building and a room for eating, all with amazing views over the village and highlands.
A huge amount of people were sitting up on the hill, and we were sat as guests of honour opposite a screened podium, from where speeches are given by many in Simbai, including the priest and Steven, and then by my father, myself and my mother. The themes were consistent - of the joy of families, of coming together in communities and across borders and cultures, and the impact of friendship.
We visit the wonderful guest house, my father cutting the garland ribbon, and the celebrations continue with the killing and cooking of pigs, and feasts for all. I slept in the new guest house, my brain buzzing with the echoes of song and dance, handshakes and hugs. I felt like I really understood what ‘mindblowing’ truly means – the magic of the day was almost too much to process, me and my family being the focus of such extraordinary friendship and celebration, it was overwhelming. A day that showed the just how strongly friendships and bonds can be formed out here, it was extraordinarily uplifting.
Lyn told us that she has seen many incredible welcomes in her year here, but none that were like this. It can be hard for volunteers to know what impact their hard work and difficult times leave behind, but this clearly showed the long standing impact my father’s friendship made.
PNG is still a very young country, with many rough edges, but it has something that we have lost - the true spirit of community, of families truly living together, and many families coming together to work and play as a community.