DREAM WEAVER

I peered out my tent at the direction of the big river, however it was still dark but still I could hear the steady breathing of the river as its torrents surged through. I stepped out of my tent and saw the outline of the lone building against a skyline that was slowly lighting up. I stood outside my tent facing the outline of building, against a dawning skyline it looked like a monument that had stubbornly withstood and endured the passion of many battles.

A rooster crowed somewhere in the darkness across the river as the birds gradually joined in on the dawn chorus and steadily the place began to come alive. The morning was cold and the white mists hung very low over the river and the trees. However ever so slowly like an old gentleman in no hurry the sun leisurely rose higher in the sky lighting it up and the darkness and the mists slowly dissipated at the subtle touch of the sun’s rays.

The lone building stood in the middle of a small clearing, bunched on three sides by fringes of the rainforests and the remaining side the river. Now in the morning light, the kunai thatched roof with blinds clearly showed with just bare earth for the floor. An old blackboard adorned in neat handwriting in white, yellow, blue and yellow coloured chalk. Adorning the walls were colorful artwork of birds, flowers, plants and animals however one could tell that the hands that created the beautiful pictures were young and inexperienced with life but full of colour and bright dreams.? There were children’s books visible on the lone table in the room with small mats woven from coconut leaves neatly piled in the corner of the room.

Now in the full light the building looked sad and desolate, like a grandfather missing the innocence, curiosity and laughter of his grandchildren. An hour passed and then I heard the echoes of laughter far off, full of innocence and full of life as small voices laughed and chattered joining in the dawn chorus of the birds. Some paddled across the river in their small canoes and others appeared out of the forests following small pathways as they headed for the lone building. They were barefoot and shy with their cute innocent smiles, string bilums slung over their shoulders, little boys and girls with so much excitement. Their shy smiles and laughter were infectious and like the bright rays of the morning sun chasing away the darkness, it lighted up the old building and it seemed to stand taller and look happier.

However all these seem to be building up to something, a grand entrance of some sort. The children were now in their classroom, their eyes gleamed with excitement that they were fighting to contain, even the birds caught on to the unsaid emotion and started chirping in a much higher note building up to a crescendo for the grand entrance.? I was fascinated and bewildered at the same time, racking my brains trying to figure out these emotions in the air. Then a small boy peeked out the window towards the river and excitedly pointed to the river as all the little bare feet rushed to the window and over 30 pair of little eyes gleaming with excitement looked across the river excitedly.

I followed their gaze and saw a lone canoe with an elderly gentleman paddling slowly across the river. The sight of him patiently paddling across the river evoked a picture of calm and gentleness itself. Standing upright in his canoe, each effort on the paddle was deliberate, calculated and so effortlessly gentle that the surface of the river seemed undisturbed by the paddle digging through it. I watched as he reached my side of the river bank and beached his canoe. I noticed his bare mud plastered foot, slightly balding head blessed with a crown of greying hair and a polite smiling face with a rack of teeth stained black from years of chewing beetle-nut. With a string bilum strung from his neck, he carried an air of humility and a posture of quiet dignity. He was a man of small build with a shirt slightly big than his thin body and a pair of shorts that had seen better days.? He gave a polite smile, greeted me, and looked me in the eyes as he gripped my hand firmly in his bony hands but tough hands for a firm handshake, telling me of a man whose hands knew tough labour.

I watched as he headed for the classroom, his gait slow and patient reflecting that quiet dignity deep within. The excitement in the classroom broke free went wild and the bird’s morning chorus as if cue, rose up another notch as he calmly entered the classroom.

Today, as he stepped into his classroom, his domain, the barefoot little people will travel places and time, they will become Hercules the strong or hang out with Alibaba and the 40 Thieves or go back in time to visit Sir Arthur and his knights of the round table or they might even go back in time, to the time of spirits when their little village was born. They will travel into the future either as a pilot or a doctor or even a teacher.

Then it dawned on me, here is the most powerful person on earth, a wizard who holds a thousand dreams in the palm of his hand. I stood in awe as I watch this master wizard at work in his house of dreams.

??Note: In my time with World Vision Together For Education Project (T4E), serving in some of the most remotest locations in Madang province, I met and came to know a brand of men and women whom with limited support and resources serve our country through educating our children. They are champions, and in their small modest classrooms made of wood and a roof thatched with leaves or grass they transform into powerful wizards.