p. 10 | The Women in New Guinea by Mrs. Edith M. Carr

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Aug 24, 1911

The Women in New Guinea

By Mrs. Edith M. Carr

MRS. EDITH M. CARR

As in most heathen lands, the women of New Guinea are despised and downtrodden. It is a common sight to see a man walking along empty-handed while his wife, or even his little daughter, carries the heavy load. One may often see a woman carrying a very heavy burden suspended from her head, on the top of which she places her two-year-old baby.

Last week two native women, who came from the village near by, were quite interested in the progress that is being made at Bisiatabu, and exclamations of appreciation were heard when they saw the way in which we had arranged our native house. After a while one of the women produced a huge, fat wood-bug which she had tied up in some leaves, and asked permission to roast it on the stove. I could not help showing my horror, and tried to convince her that it was a filthy thing to eat; but she thought I was altogether wrong, and very soon she was enjoying her dainty morsel as we would a piece of good cake. She also brought me two scrub-turkey eggs, but doubting their freshness, I asked if I might open them. The first tap showed that they were well developed, but these, too, were roasted and eaten in like manner.

On the Fly River, some two hundred miles west of Port Moresby, some of the villages consist of only one long house, which is divided into compartments like horse stalls, only with lower partitions, each family occupying one division.

In some of the mountain villages not far from Bisiatabu, there are only two houses in the village,—one for the men, the other for the women and children. The women, who do all the hard work and should have the comfortable home, live all together in a small house, which most people would call a pigsty, while the men have the better and larger house.

The mother of one of our boys, accompanied by her husband, came to visit her son, bringing as a present to him a large basket of food. She had walked sixteen miles, including a very steep hill which she climbed. She remained with her boy for two days, and then, not feeling well, started on her return journey. She expected soon to have another little one in their family, but the trip proving too much for her, she died on the road. A platform was erected on which they placed the corpse until the flesh should decay, or be eaten by the birds, when the bones would be taken to the village to be buried.

Think of these things, dear Christian sisters, as you live in your comfortable homes, and when tempted to spend your money for that “which is not bread,” decide that for His sake you will deny yourself to help your dark-skinned, downtrodden sisters in heathen lands.

Port Moresby.