I want to share an experience with you…

While it is still fresh in my mind.

I have mentioned Jerry on quite a number of occasions. Jerry works in the Library here at UNITECH as a “shelver”, has 5 kids (with another on the way), lives in the Madang Settlement adjacent to campus and is from Finschhafen – a medium sized town up the coast a wee bit from Lae. Jerry is one of my dearest of PNG friends.

The following email was circulated by a member of the Library at around 12:15pm yesterday afternoon (Wednesday)….

One of the things that hit me today – was the mortality rate here in PNG. I never experienced anything like this back in Sydney. Every few weeks I here of someone I know personally or a family/relative of someone I know dying. Now, as a buddhist death is part of living and all living things die one day. As a buddhist I meditate regularly on this in preparation for my own departure.

But…. (there is always a “but” isn't there)

Loss is painful and grief is like a well. One loss seems to trigger the grief of all losses. So when I heard about the death of Jerry's son – I could feel Jerry's pain – which somehow tapped into my own losses and my own grief. It swelled up and I could feel the tears…

I packed up at work and went looking for my mate Jerry. I wanted to hug him and let him know that I cared. So my first stop was the library – I was told that he had left earlier in the morning. So in order to track him down the only option was to venture into the Madang settlement (his home) and find him.

Readers…  you need to remember that settlements in PNG are (as a rule) considered to be very dangerous places. They are a breeding ground for crime and raskols – certainly off limits to us whities. Nevertheless, in my 13 months in Lae I have ventured into these places on many occasions – spoken to, chewed buai with and interacted with these people. They know me and they look out for me. My protection is all around me. In fact I feel safe and kind of at home in these neighbourhoods. People are people – even criminals or pick pockets and yes raskols too. People need to live, they need to eat and they will do this anyway they can. If they can get work – good and proper – if not then thru any other means. Human beings are survivors and PNGers are masters at this game. So when I venture into these “slums” I do so without fear – I look at people – young and old – I see there suffering – I feel for them. Compassion I thinks it's called. The folk I meet and run into in these settlements sense this and as I walk pass I smile at them and they smile back (most of the time). Afterall – we are all brothers and sisters of life.

Back to Jerry…

I decided to head into the Madang settlement (or commonly known as “The Block”) to find my mate. My first stop : the main markets in the settlement. I wanted to find someone that knew Jerry, someone that could walk me to his home. Initially I met many blank stares and then people started to take notice (I even stopped a game of bingo and the card players also stopped to see what was going on) – people started to gather around me and I told them I was looking for my friend Jerry whose son had died. I had a circle of people around me all listening and then it happened…. 

I burst out crying….  that well of grief came to the surface

Then the help came….

Three men and three young boys offered to take me in. The “Block” is literally like a labyrinth and one could get easily lost. I needed the escort not so much for my safety but more for navigation and guidance. We walked and walked – passed some small markets along the way – stopped and talked to people – told them where we were going (a great PNG custom).

And as we got closer to Jerry's home I could feel a lightness of being – like a flowing – like being in tune with something unexplainable. I wanted to see and hold my mate.

And there he was (Jerry) – up ahead a little – I could see his sadness and sense his loss even from a distance – he was walking slowly with his head down – his body language was strong. And as I got closer he looked up and saw me – he did'nt smile like he normally does when we meet – we walked towards each other – slowly but surely. Our eyes were locked.

As we met I held him in my arms – I held him tight and stroked his head. I could feel the sobbing as his body tremored. We stood there for a few minutes and I felt close to my mate. I found him !!   And I was there to share his pain and his loss and his grief.

For…
the adventure of it all…
and the privilege to be alive.
For friendship and love and sharing.

I give thanks.