A singsing is a tradition song and dance in Papua New Guinea. When my internship team landed in Samban, where we lived in the bush, we were greeted with a singsing. Men, women, and children dressed in grass skirts, elaborate headdresses, paint, and mud danced the dances of their ancestors to welcome us into their village. It was quite an experience.
But this wasn't to be the only time we had an opportunity to experience a singsing. Twice more, while we were there, singsings were going to be preformed. Once for the Pryors, the previous Pioneer Bible Translators missionaries who were working in Samban on the ApMa project. And once for the grand opening of the local elementary school.
One of the members of my team loved the singsing so much that she asked if she could be a part of it. When her request was granted she returned to the team to ask one of us to join her so she wouldn't be alone. I said yes. So on the day the plane was to come we went over to the house where everyone was preparing and we learned the moves. This was a big deal. While I just felt like we were jumping about, and many were just laughing at the white women, there were a few who were very adamant that they dance be done right, that we jump about
properly.
Suddenly, all the children jumped up screaming "
balus!" The children heard the plane long before I did. We ran to the bridge. (The first singsing had begun at the runway but the nationals decided that the white women wouldn't be able to preform the singsing for a full mile. I agree.) While waiting for the preformances at the runway to end and for the Pryors to come to the bridge, the nationals painted my face and arms with mud and paint and tied grass around my arms and ankles. And then we danced and danced. The end was not too soon. I was worn out by the end!
A singsing is a tradition song and dance in Papua New Guinea. When my internship team landed in Samban, where we lived in the bush, we were greeted with a singsing. Men, women, and children dressed in grass skirts, elaborate headdresses, paint, and mud danced the dances of their ancestors to welcome us into their village. It was quite an experience. 
But this wasn't to be the only time we had an opportunity to experience a singsing. Twice more, while we were there, singsings were going to be preformed. Once for the Pryors, the previous Pioneer Bible Translators missionaries who were working in Samban on the ApMa project. And once for the grand opening of the local elementary school. 
One of the members of my team loved the singsing so much that she asked if she could be a part of it. When her request was granted she returned to the team to ask one of us to join her so she wouldn't be alone. I said yes. So on the day the plane was to come we went over to the house where everyone was preparing and we learned the moves. This was a big deal. While I just felt like we were jumping about, and many were just laughing at the white women, there were a few who were very adamant that they dance be done right, that we jump about properly.
Suddenly, all the children jumped up screaming "balus!" The children heard the plane long before I did. We ran to the bridge. (The first singsing had begun at the runway but the nationals decided that the white women wouldn't be able to preform the singsing for a full mile. I agree.) While waiting for the preformances at the runway to end and for the Pryors to come to the bridge, the nationals painted my face and arms with mud and paint and tied grass around my arms and ankles. And then we danced and danced. The end was not too soon. I was worn out by the end!
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