A Pupil of Papua New Guinea
A Pupil of Papua New Guinea
I live in a village deep in the jungle
And cross rivers on foot and by wooden boat
Westerns have come but have not taken our pride
Village men perform an ancient ritual,
A tribal dance
Honoring their ancestors and praying for a safe journey and return for their children ,dad’s niece and son
They wear leafy palm skirts , tribal prints , face masks , body paint and headdresses
They drum to a beat and sing in silence
Well into the morning
The ceremony calls for no emotion
Such equates to weakness and vulnerability
A seven-day voyage to school awaits
Father , a farmer goes with son and niece
Father gave all he had
For his son to be taught and to have
The school nearest us have closed
It still stands , neat and clean
With desks , a blackboard and chalk
Broken into pieces
Aunty takes us in for the night
We are fed white sweet potatoes , yams
The school lies far into the distance
Behind the furthest mountain at the horizon
There lies the toughest and largest river we have.
The water is cold
I can’t tell what it holds
Dad warns against the
dark brown venomous snake
That kills with one bite
It mixes in with the the dirt and the roots
Large birds and buffalo roam the area, too
This green python camouflages in the tree
It wraps itself around a thin brown branch surrounded by green leaves
It has no venom and is good to eat
The boy catches it with a trap he made
Puts a loop around its neck and grabs it away
His dad cooks it traditionally in bamboo
The river has crocodiles,
We pay for a ferry, a canoe
Boy jumps out of canoe and hides
There was no convincing him otherwise
At 8 years old, the boy’s journey ends
Even at his fathers disappointment and expense
His niece, 12, though scared, carries on her way
Two men row her away
She continues the path alone
The river connects us to the world outside
Though many drown and die
She made it to school
The day before,
She slept in the jungle, all alone
She gave $100 for one year of boarding school
Her family’s savings
Is put to use
The class is full
She would have been turned away
But her long trip was reconsidered
So she stays
As the only person from her village
She’s proud
Here to learn English , social studies and arithmetic
Here to eat and to play
Here for confidence in another day
Marckincia Jean
Narrative
06/16/19
Copyright ©
Marckincia Jean
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