Hands

I collect shells, rainbows, and pictures of hands. I always thought of myself as a non-collector but it seems to be otherwise. This little old lady was sitting next to me in a church service. She was wearing a traditional grass skirt with a dirty shirt. She sat to my left and to my right was a little bitty boy trying hard to figure out what to so with my very unusual face. This lady smiled shyly at me but kept her peace and sat with folded hands through most of the service. He hands intrigued me...how many children had she fed in her lifetime, how many potatoes dug up from how many gardens, how many fires had she stoked, pigs had she stroked and how many wounds had she tended. She listened quietly to the service with folded hands...intently listening to the words of the Pastor, not at all distracted by me who was distracted by her.
Women here in Papua are busy, they work hard all the time and this woman was no exception. They carry the wood, dig up the gardens, feed the family, care for the pigs, raise the children and everything else that would make traditional Papuan family function in Papua. When I was in the Mbua I spoke to a womans group about how amazed I was at the Nduga woman, her strength, her humility, her courage. Really...what could I say! I have so much to make my life easier...the least is technology the most is a culture that allows me opportunities. Here..not so much. So these hands are a reminder to me not only of what I have but of what she doesn't.