for god's sake

The church bell (a length of metal pipe hanging from a tree) started ringing at 5am, calling all able bodies to help with the task of pouring a suspended slab for the new church. Here was a chance to notch up a few frequent flyer points on god's airline. Almost every person in the village participated in some way, rotating between roles as heat and fatigue took their toll. Tea, water and fried bananas were in continual supply, and a free lunch was served for all. We could hear the yipping and yooing all day, like a twelve hour grand final.  There is no doubt religion has a way of instigating action and forms a strong communal spirit, but the rebuilding of the church to make it grander, and therefore greater in the eyes of god, is a scandalous waste of money in a village that lacks basic services. There is an inter- village rivalry over who can have the most lavish church, and our congregation are determined to have more air conditioners than the neighbours. The alternative could have been a well designed open air pavilion that captured the breeze, but that doesn't speak of wealth, power and progress.

It is estimated to take another five years and billions of rupiah to complete the vision. The cathedral is being built over the top of the old church, and by the look of the watery concrete mix used, it will be danger of collapsing before it is finished. The scaffolding has been up for over two years, and locals volunteer on a rotating roster to slowly erect their monument to the big fella.  

indonesia's got talent

The annual inter-school singing competition is a big deal for all concerned. Hundreds of kids from primary schools throughout the western half of the island converge at the church with doting parents, teachers, extended family and dogs in tow.  It is serious business, with three judges awarding a trophy and cash prize to the winning school.  I was asked to photograph our local school, appearing sixth and eleventh on the programme. In between I could escape the stifling church interior and watch the real action outside. Strict teachers and hovering parents insisted on last minute practice of scales and smiles, and refinement of the conductor's arm movements. A team of mums prepared a take-away dinner of rice, fried noodles and unidentified meat morsels for every child, which was presented to them, along with a plastic cup of water, after their performance. The single-use plastic rubbish was a disturbing sideline to the event.

Each group sang the same two songs, and by the eleventh round I definitely had the tune sussed. I felt a swelling of pride to see the village kids singing angelically in their matching polyester gowns (purple and green). Unfortunately we didn't win, or come second or third, but there is always next year.