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You are here: Home -> Current Fields -> Papua New Guinea -> Crisis in Kundiawa - March 2009

Chimbu Ministers and Leaders Seminar in Kundiawa

Crisis in Kundiawa

March 1st, 2009

Uploaded: 17 March 2009

Be sure to view more photos from this story

The Chimbu Province is blessed with an awesome Ministers Seminar, but no one was anticipating the battle we would face afterward.

Story by Richard Carver (Jnr)

There was much excitement in the air in Kundiawa, Chimbu Province. I was heading there to conduct a weekend training seminar as such weekend training seminars have not occurred in Chimbu for years. They were in for a surprise too: Mum & Dad had arrived in the country the day before, and Dad was coming with me to the seminar while Mum stayed back in Goroka with Andrea and the kids. We were also pleased to have the General Secretary, Bro Digi Sinakadi, coming with us.

After about two hours driving along some rough roads, we arrived in Kundiawa, and were greeted by a group of ministers waiting for us on the side of the road. Much to their excitement, there was a surprise visitor sitting in the front seat of the car: their General Superintendent. They had no idea that he was coming too, and I had kept it secret just in case through circumstances it never eventuated.

We held the weekend Ministers & Leaders Seminar, with about 300 from the Chimbu Region attending. Through each of the services, the ministry soaked up the teaching and training with gratefulness. On Friday Evening, Dad spoke about “Dying – the key to reproducing”, using "Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies..." as his text.

The brand-new church at DPI Wara Simbu, Kundiawa, where we held the Seminar

Our heart sunk as we returned to the "motel" (more like a back-packers lodging, but still the best place in town). The car park was full of cars, and the "beer hall" was full of drunks. Fortunately, Dad and my room was far enough away, but Bro Sinakadi copped the full blast of the late-night disco and carousing. Then about 2:00am, the person next door returned from drinking, and in the depths of drink-induced despair, started a cycle of drunken lamenting - first weeping and bawling for a long lost friend, then ranting and shouting against (in his words) "all the politicians in Port Moresby who have never helped me a bit", then throwing furniture around and punching the walls; then repeating the cycle again by crying for "Mike". It was a lo-oong night. With a busy weekend ahead, it was the last thing we needed.

So on Saturday Morning we were feeling quite fatigued. We woke up feeling as if we were the ones with the hangover, and felt like we hadn’t slept a wink ourselves. Using all the strength I could muster, I preached about “Being Empty - Having the Mind of Christ”, and then on Saturday Evening, I spoke on “The Danger of a Dictator”, using a slideshow to graphically demonstrate my points. This message dealt with our response and responsibilities to position-holding, and targeted voting and election mentalities, which are culturally very engrained in PNG.

Farewelling the people, shaking hands on both sides as we came out

On Sunday Morning, Dad taught on “Back to Mercy”, and provoked a lot of thought and soul-searching about our approach to winning the lost and preaching. By Sunday Night, we were feeling quite refreshed, and I finished the seminar by preaching about “The Unity of the World”. It was a fantastic service, and a great climax to a wonderful weekend of preaching and teaching. The Chimbu Ministers were visibly blessed, and a good work was done in Chimbu which will benefit them for a long time to come. They farewelled us with tears, and a line of leaders and wives stood on both sides shaking hands as we exited the church.

After such a wonderful victory amongst the Chimbu Ministers, we should have known that there would be a counter-attack to try to hinder the progress of the church. And it was to come that next day, and the attack came against the Bible School. We had been purposed that when Mum & Dad arrived, that we would begin Night Bible School as soon as we arrived back from the Chimbu Ministers Seminar. But, with Bible School being the most important element of mission work, and the biggest need in PNG, this was not to happen without a battle.

We left Kundiawa (Chimbu) on Monday morning after a glorious weekend of Ministers Seminars, but also a weekend of heavy rain. Along the highway we noticed a couple of small landslips. As we approached a larger one, we noticed a group of about 50 boys on the road. We crossed the muddied slip without too much trouble, but on the other side the 50 boys had blocked the road. They were “taking collections” of money to allow cars to pass, with the purported reason being “a little money to say thank you for clearing the road by hand”. I handed them $2, the only small change I had, and we drove on.

The next landslide was only a trickle of mud across the road, but 10 village young men were also trying to get “offerings” to pass through. I only had a $50 note on me, so instead of stopping, just bulldozed through. There were some angry shouts and fists visible in my rear-view mirrors, but at least we were through.

Our worst fears come true - the Highway blocked by a landslide with no way around...

But around a few more corners, our worst fears came true. At Watabung, a huge landslip had totally covered the road, making progress impossible. Steep valleys on both side and a raging river meant there was no other way around. Being hesitant to go back and face the 10 angry youths (who would surely remember the car), we sat in the car for 3 hours, naively hoping that machinery would come from Goroka and clear the slip.

But help was not to come. The landowners refused to let the road construction company clear the landslip, as they wanted to have it measured so they could claim compensation for it from the Government. Rough-looking youths patrolled the area, and anyone wanting to walk across the landslip to the other side had to pay $2 passage, and $5 if you had baggage. A group of men with axes, machetes and slingshots enforced the tarriff, while the police looked on from their patrol cars. The police didn’t actually do anything except chew betelnut (like chewing tobacco), and the whole scene was almost comical; except we knew the situation could degenerate very quickly into one of violence, even toward us.

After 3 hours, and when we saw the police leaving the scene, we realised it was futile to wait any longer; we turned around and headed back toward Kundiawa town. Rain had started to fall, and it had cooled the youth’s enthusiasm for collecting tolls, so we never encountered the group of boys whose ire I had provoked previously. We arrived back at the motel in Kundiawa, but another landslip had knocked out the town water supply. It was a long night.

On Tuesday Morning, we returned to Watabung again. We had arranged with a church member to wait on the Goroka side of the slip. We would leave our car on the Kundiawa side of the slip, walk over to the Goroka side, and catch a ride home. Our car would be taken back by another church member to Kundiawa until the road was opened. It was a good idea...

Searching for bodies of young school children buried under the mud, or washed into the raging river.

But once again, things don’t work as planned. During the early morning, more land had slipped at the same location, covering village children as they walked to school, and some adults as well. The site had become a graveyard, and about 50 heavily armed police prevented anyone from walking on top of the landslide, first out of fears for safety, second out of respect to the village and those who had lost their children. Seeing the situation was hopeless, we turned around once again and headed back along the bumpy road to Kundiawa.

But things were bad. Kundiawa had no water, because a (different) landslide had broken the town water supply pipes. We hadn’t bathed for two days. We hadn’t brought clothes enough for an extended stay, and had worn the same clothes for two days. And at close range, everyone else could tell that we hadn't washed too. Thirdly, we had run out of money (it’s not wise to travel with large amounts of cash), and the only bank in Kundiawa town would not accept MasterCard, only Visa. We had no money to pay for food or motel. Fourth, Kundiawa town was quickly running out of fuel, and our tank was getting low...

It is only by God’s grace, along with the help of some church members, that we were able to deal with the situation. Arriving back in Kundiawa, we needed fuel, but there was a line of about 30 cars waiting outside the only petrol station. I saw the man measuring the holding tanks, and only about a foot of diesel was left. Knowing that it was a missionary car, the (unsaved) pump attendant promoted us to the head of the queue, explaining to everyone waiting in line that “these are men of God; we must serve them first”, which they all seemed happy with. After filling up, we dashed to the Post Office 15 minutes before closing time; just in time to get a Money Order which Andrea had sent up to sustain us with some cash. And then we decided to make the long journey 2 hour journey on further to Mount Hagen, were at least we could get a shower and more money from the bank.

It was two long days in Mount Hagen of sitting around and waiting, and thinking of our wives and kids back in Goroka. Work on clearing the landslip was very slow because of the sensitivity of the situation, and I think we all started to fall into depression. The first week of Bible School had been wiped out, students were turning up just to be told it was cancelled; here Dad is, only 5 weeks in the country, and one week burnt up sitting in a small motel room, doing nothing, accomplishing nothing, separated from our families, and no way out. And with the realisation that in PNG, these situations can go on unchanged for weeks.

But while we were languishing in Mt. Hagen, church members were busy on the other side. Bro Koko from Goroka side and Bro Barnabas from Kundiawa side made daily visits to the landslide, looking for some way for us to get through. And a whole lot of prayer was going up for us.

On Thursday lunch we heard from Bro Koko: “I’ve just walked across the slip”. We were very sceptical, not willing to use up scarce diesel to make the 3 hour journey back to the landslip just for Experiment Number Three (not to mention getting shaken to pieces on the roads in the process). But then Bro Barnabas called: “It’s all arranged. I have spoken to the village elders, I have spoken to the Police Commander. They know your names; they know your faces (i.e. whiteskins); they are expecting you to come today and make the crossing”.

We never packed up so quickly in our lives. The road almost seemed smooth as we took the potholes, bumps and road subsidence in our stride. The hope of an end to our sojourning made anything bearable as we made our way in record time along the Highlands Highway back to Watabung.

When we arrived at the landslip, about 1 km of cars and busses were queued, bringing passengers and cargo, awaiting permission to cross on foot. The police were letting people through in batches, then letting the machinery work to clear the ground and unearth the bodies underneath the slip. When we arrived, the machinery had started working, and no one was walking through; but just as we had been told, they knew our faces, and our little party was immediately granted special permission to make the crossing.

Finally! Crossing over the landslide.

Upon arriving on the other side, I saw our pick-up party, Bro Pius and Sis Miriam. Unknown to us, they had specially rented a vehicle to come and get us. Sis Miriam was weeping in thankfulness as she saw us appear on the Goroka side. The Brothers and Sisters who accompanied us from Kundiawa wept as they delivered us to the other side of the landslide and said goodbye; weeping for gratitude that we had been delivered safely, and weeping for sorrow that such a thing had befallen us amidst our efforts to bring blessing to the Chimbu Ministers and Leaders.

Truly there is no one on earth like the precious saints of Papua New Guinea. God has brought them from such darkness and made them such a light. We were so well looked after by the saints both in Kundiawa and Mt. Hagen. Many offered us money (that is very hard for them to find) to pay for our costs. They provided food and worked tirelessly to help the situation. Many confessed they couldn’t sleep at night thinking about their missionaries stuck, away from family, away from Bible School. It almost seemed like they held themselves responsible for the dilemma (which of course they weren’t), and did everything in their power to change it.

It spoke volumes to the heavily-armed police to see people weeping over two missionaries as if they would never see us again. It spoke volumes to me as well; it showed how much the members of the church love their missionaries, and are so thankful for their presence in their country. It showed how the love of God is shed abroad in their hearts by the Holy Ghost; it showed of their great care for the men that God has given them. We are not special men, but in their hearts we are. But in our hearts, they’re the special ones!

Our hearts go out to the 10+ villagers who perished in the landslide at Watabung, and to the precious saints who looked after us during this time. It truly is an experience we never will forget.

- Richard Carver Jnr

Be sure to view more photos of our Chimbu and Landslide Experiences