Village Vignettes 4: Daily Life

It took us a while to settle into some kind of routine, but once we did it looked something like this. We’d wake up to the sound of someone chopping firewood. After a leisurely breakfast, I would make the short but slippery trek down the mountainside to the nearest stream (carrying a bilum [string bag] on my back and two buckets in my hands) to wash dishes, do laundry, and bathe. Most women could navigate the slope carrying twice as much in their bilum and with a baby too yet, but I never attempted it with Avigail. (It was risky enough with borrowed dishes!) I always took my mobile phone in the likely event that one day I would finally careen headlong down the mountain, and then what? I wasn’t the only one to have such concerns, apparently, because often, soon after I’d leave, someone else would make a point of coming after me just to be sure I’d made it down in one piece. But I often had at least the first few minutes by the water to myself, and it afforded me the small measure of daily solitude I needed to preserve my sanity. And often I was thankful for the company since it usually resulted in help with all that washing and gave me opportunities to practice speaking Tok Pisin.

This is the house we lived in.

Washing laundry in the stream

Meanwhile, back at the ranch—I mean, house—Tim would be babysitting. Often he succeeded in getting Avigail to nap in the bilum. (Our host papa gave him a crash course on how to properly put a baby in a bilum…it was highly amusing!) This gave him time to do other helpful things like make yogurt or bake bread.

Our fireplace was conveniently located on a platform outside the kitchen window.

Soon it would be time for lunch, followed by a nap or time to read. We also had several assignments to do during our time there, including making a map of the village, a kinship chart, word lists, cultural observations, and translating a story. This kept us from being bored even when no one came to visit us. But there were also times when we would have preferred to be actually engaged in real-life encounters rather than just sitting around writing about them.

Snack time!

At some point in the afternoon Tim would leave to haul more drinking water and bathe. He had a significantly longer hike than I did, but no less steep. He would seek out opportunities to visit with someone on his way back. People often gave him gifts of fresh garden produce, which we really appreciated. In return, he’d later share a little packet of some valued commodity like sugar or salt. In this way, relationships started to form.

Once Tim got back, there would be a mad rush to bathe Avigail and get supper ready before dark. Although at first I was hesitant to let random people hold Avigail, I really came to appreciate certain girls who whisked Avigail away to play with her so I could focus on getting the fire to cooperate to hopefully turn out something edible for supper. We’d eat in the dark and then it would be Avigail’s bedtime. But despite all my intentions to stay up and “story” with all the adults, I often fell asleep shortly after my baby, I was so exhausted! So, it’s no wonder Tim’s language skills developed at a greater pace than mine; I slept through all kinds of wonderful opportunities to practice.

Avigail hanging out with her new sisters.

So, that’s a glimpse of a typical day in the village for us. Keep in mind, though, that this was by no means a typical day for the villagers. They worked much harder than we did with gardens to tend, more mouths to feed, and more clothes to wash! Our admiration of their strength and stamina only grew during our time there.