Excerpt From Chapter 1 "God Gives Peace"
From Circles of Blessing: Redemption in the Rain Forest
© 2001 David A. Tucker and Arlene Knickerbocker
I looked out the window to see my first caller of the day. Andreas stood tall and lithe with glistening, black hair. His smile ended at a curved bone protruding from his pierced nose. I waved and almost turned away, then did a double take.Sweat ran freely down his painted face and body. Looking more closely, I noticed he was cradling his left arm and showing me a jagged, round wound oozing blood. It looked as if he had been shot with an arrow.
"Oh, no," I thought, "he wants me to sew up his arm. I've done some minor medical work, but this will be a challenge." I began thinking about the bigger picture. "Where is the other guy? Maybe the fight didn't involve just two people. How many others are there?" Then it hit me. "He's smiling like that because he's proud of getting wounded in battle."
"The fighting has to stop," I thought throughout the morning, "but who can stop it?" The answer to my question had poked at my consciousness, but focusing on immediate medical needs kept it from surfacing. When I got a break, the question rose again; and abruptly, the answer came to me "I was the logical choice!" The government only became involved with remote villages as a last resort. By then, most of the people might be dead. But, "what should I do? What could I do?"
I looked toward Kawem village. The huts made from sago palm fronds still slouched in two rows divided by the muddy path; but where was the grayish-blue smoke that usually drifted lazily from each hut, leaving its smell on everything it touched? Where were the women and children? Were they hiding in the jungle?
The air nearly crackled with tension. All able-bodied men clustered at the far end of the village. Some of them were barely fourteen years old. They looked different decorated for war. I had only seen this type of dress during a couple of village dances. With a sickening feeling, I realized those entertaining dances had actually been reenactments of past battles. A chill ran through my body despite the hot mid-day sun.
I noticed the bones and pig tusks sticking through their pierced noses and ears. Some wore necklaces made from animal teeth. Red and white paint decorated their faces and bare chests with clan symbols, an appeal to clan spirits for strength and protection. I had heard the steady monotone of drums beating all morning; now I noticed how this war beat provided an emotional background for the agitated hum coming from the warriors. Another storm of violence was brewing; and the only hope for calming it was to act quickly.
At that moment I cursed my vivid imagination. The stories I had heard about Kayagar warfare became very real to me; visions of brutal murder and cannibalism flashed through my mind. That is what they might do to each other!
"How will they receive me? Will they be angry if I interfere?" I would soon find out.
I crossed the short footbridge from our yard into Kawem. As if on cue, the head of every warrior swiveled in my direction. As I began my trek toward them, my emotional state made it seemed even hotter than the one hundred degree weather I had come to expect. I noticed the weapons in their hands: seven-foot wooden spears tipped with the sharp toenails of large cassowary birds, four-foot bamboo arrows tipped with a six-inch barbed wooden point, and long steel knives called parangs.
The men greeted me with silence. I looked around the circle of warriors. Some eyes opened wide with fear and others blazed with rage. Some hands trembled noticeably while others gripped their weapons so hard their knuckles were nearly white. Jaws clenched. Veins stood out. Nostrils flared.
My heart beat frantically. I took a deep breath, swallowed the lump in my throat, and prayed a silent "Help!"