Floating Grass

In the flood plains of the Aramia River where the Gogodala live, gently rolling hills jut out like fingers into lagoons and swamps. During the rainy season, much of the undulating topography is below water, and only the highest parts are visible. Since the canoe is the primary mode of transportation, people have an easier time traveling when the water is high.

Lately, a natural impediment to transportation has been on the increase—great big living mats of floating grass. This year, our home village of Kotale has had reduced access because of floating grass. One of Kotale’s most heavily used waterways, Baiya Creek, was closed off by floating grass, which the strong Ibowa (easterly winds) had packed together, creating something like a log jam for stretches of a quarter to half a mile in several of places. Fortunately, Magusi Creek, the shortcut to Kewa, has remained mostly open. However, even there, the grass blocked access to the main canoe landing for a time. While commuting to work at our new house site in Kewa, we had to use a different landing farther from the village, which made things very inconvenient.

One day, the village ward counselor announced that the next day he would need all the men to come out and cut the floating grass at Magusi Creek. I had mixed emotions about this. Needing a way to float the lumber for our house out to Kewa, I was happy at the thought of an open channel. But seeing the enormity of the task of removing the floating grass, I was skeptical that it could actually be done. Perhaps a machine could do it in a day, but with brute force, bush knives and canoes, how many days would it take?
The next morning, I decided to get in on the action. When I got to the peninsula where the men were assembling, I was not surprised to see many sitting around talking about the work instead of getting it done. A few guys were out in the lagoon chopping away, but most were just sitting on the bank sharpening their knives. About half an hour later, a couple old men told me that things were ready and I should follow them. We waded out through floating grass to a large racing canoe situated at the creek mouth where the work was to commence. Being a tobata (white man), I was assigned to stand in the racing canoe with the elders and observe while the young men waded in chest-deep water with their knives and hacked away at the floating jungle. Soon, square islands of grass began to slowly move to the sides of the creek as groups of six to eight men worked together removing a square at a time.

Within two hours, the job was done! 150 men had made quick work of something I had thought would take much longer. That day, I learned how much can be accomplished when we all work together.

Thank you for your involvement in God’s work. “Let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not” (Gal. 6:9).

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