I Crossed The Bridge And I Got There…

By Sr Ma. Luisa Tomaro OND

Three years ago, Sr. Luisa arrived in the tropical jungles of Papua New Guinea. She is presently handling family life and catechetical ministry in the parish of Daru. One of their regular activities is ‘patrolling’ – they go from village to village preparing the people for Baptism, Confession, First Communion or Marriage. Here she tells how she has come to cross the bridge of ethnic differences.

In one of our patrol schedules, my four catechist companions and I had to travel by water because the village we were visiting was quite far. There were four of us and I was the only female. We left at 10:30 am, riding on a dinghy. What a terrible trip we had. Ten minutes after leaving Daru, a heavy rain poured. I was frightened because I did not know how to swim. The most I could do was to pray that the dinghy would not sink. The rain soaked us. It was very cold and it lasted for an agonizing four hours.

Culture shock

We reached the village at 2:30 pm. I was astonished because the village leaders placed all of us in one mud hut. Needless to say, it was hard for me because there was no room for changing clothes, no comfort room, no bathroom. I had to sleep next to my three male companions. The people have no regular meals, too. They were not even offering food to us. At night-time I could not sleep well because of back pains. The floor was not flat and had holes in it.

Color fright

The following day, I roamed around and visited the families. At first, children were crying and running away when they saw me. Later I found out that they were afraid of my strange straight hair and my unnatural fair complexion. They thought I was a witch from the middle of the sea.

This was one of the difficulties in trying to reach out to them. But I always believed in my heart that no matter what our differences were – in language, color, beliefs and traditions, we would always come together in the end, would cross the cultural bridge which divides us.

First impression don’t last

Day after day, I felt more at home with them, talking and eating with them, learning their language, their life. I discovered that they are also warm and friendly people. And I am sure they discovered the same about me. We stayed there for ten days. We gave lessons and briefings for Sacraments and for the last three days our parish priest came and administered sacraments of Baptism, First Confession, First Communion and Marriage.

Dinghy rides and more

This was not my last patrol. There are still plenty of patrol schedules to come, many dinghy rides. Nevertheless, I still want to go because nothing compares to this feeling of being a part of somebody else’s life, discovering what life is in the other side of the world, learning about other people’s beliefs and traditions and most of all, hearing their own story.

And then, along the way, I would understand why God has made people different from one another.