Sundial

The sun was shining brightly, but a sudden gust of cold wind made him shiver as the small plane’s door swung open. She stepped onto the small stairs that folded down from the plane’s belly. Not far from the edge of the runway, a crowd of schoolchildren, from kindergarten to high school, stood packed together, waiting for the plane’s engine to shut down. The moment the engine went quiet, and the propeller slowly stopped spinning, the crowd scattered, racing toward the beautiful Pilatus aircraft. They scrambled to open the plane’s cargo door, jostling to grab whatever was inside while singing a traditional Papuan Highlands song in a chorus of joyous shouts.

A moment later, all nine passengers got off the plane and joined the crowd of schoolchildren. The Pilatus’s engine roared to life again, climbing high into the sky and returning to the city. The noisy procession of children, singing in a language she had never heard before, walked alongside the eight teachers and one doctor who had just arrived. They were being escorted to their new home in the Sinak District of Puncak Regency, Papua.

Twelve years have passed, and that moment is still fresh in her mind. It was an unforgettable day, feeling as if it were just yesterday that she was in the midst of that grand welcome with her fellow teachers.

In this region, the sun is a life-sustaining force. It provides warmth and light in the cold morning, giving life to the people and the earth. In this place, the sun is more than just a source of light and warmth; it is a ruler that dictates every activity of the local people. Every daily activity, every work, and even every person’s schedule is completely dependent on the presence of the sun. The local people refer to it as the “Sundial.”

Here, people wake up early to work on their sweet potato and vegetable farms, but if the sun is not yet shining, it is considered too early, and no one will start working. The sun is their clock, their guide, and their source of life.

The sun also determines the weather, even though this region is known for its frequent rain. However, the intensity of the rain is highly dependent on the sun’s position and the time of day. If the sun shines brightly, the rain usually does not last long, and the weather returns to being warm and sunny, allowing people to return to their activities.

The availability of transportation, especially by air, is also entirely dependent on the sun. If the sun shines brightly, flights run smoothly. Conversely, let alone rain, even if it’s slightly cloudy, you can’t expect a plane to land. The airport runway is located in a mountain curve, so planes have to fly very low, just a few meters above the treetops, to avoid hitting the mountain cliffs.

It’s not just the community’s activities that depend on the sun’s daily appearance. Even patients waiting for treatment have to wait for the sun to come out to take the medicine they have been given. Imagine the condition of patients during the rainy season. Instead of getting better, their condition worsens because they are waiting for the wrong time cue to take their medication.

The teacher—she, who had arrived years ago with his close-knit group of fellow teachers and the ever-smiling doctor—found herself, twelve years later, standing at the same remote airstrip with her husband (who had also come in that first batch of educators) and the doctor. This time, three of them joined their little unplanned reunion which quickly bloomed into a lively and heartfelt conversation, each story sparking laughter and tears in equal measure.

The doctor, her eyes shining with both humor and exasperation, recounted one of her unforgettable challenges: “I thought I’d seen it all, until my patient came back after three days, looking worse than before. I asked, ‘Did you take your medicine?’ and he replied, ‘No, Mama Doc, the sun did not come out for three days!’” She shook her head, chuckling. “How do you tell time to people who only trust the sun? They don’t bother with clocks or watches. Analog, digital—none of it matters. Here, it’s all about the sunlight.”

The teacher couldn’t help but join in, his laughter echoing across the quiet airstrip. “Every morning, we’d go honai to honai, trying to herd the children to school. They’d peek out, refuse to budge, and say, ‘It’s too early—the sun’s not up yet!’ And once the sun did appear, the whole classroom would erupt. Kids would dash outside to play soccer the moment the sunlight hit the field, ignoring my desperate shouts to come back and finish their lessons. For them, this is a rare chance for sports, more precious than the math lesson I’m trying to teach. When the rain starts, without warning, they sprint home, class be damned—never mind if school is over or not.”

Their laughter mingled with a bittersweet nostalgia, the memories painting vivid pictures: the mist swirling across the highland runway, the raucous shouts of children, the mountain air so crisp you could taste it. Sometimes, as the conversation stretched on, tears glimmered in their eyes—reminders of the lonely nights, the vibrant welcomes, the joy and exhaustion that coloured their years of service.

Just as their exchange reached its peak, the distant growl of an airplane drifted through the valley air. The doctor wiped her eyes, readying herself to escort a patient to the city. The teacher and his wife waited for their monthly supplies, listening for the familiar thrum of the Pilatus as it threaded through the treetops.

In that fleeting moment, time seemed to blur. They were, once more, newcomers brimming with hope, their hearts tuned to the rhythm of the sun and the song of the Highlands. The future was uncertain, the struggle unending, but together, their memories and laughter made the journey brighter.

The sun holds a very important role for the people in this place. Even the electricity supply depends on the sun’s appearance. Because there is no PLN (state electricity company) here yet, they can only rely on an independent solar power system to get electricity, both for work and in their homes.

The sun, the ruler of the daytime sky, is still the standard timekeeper here to this day. Who knows when this way of thinking can be changed.

The struggle is still long, but not impossible. Only those who can survive in the interior know how tiring and exhausting the struggle is to educate a nation’s children who are still not free from illiteracy and access for a better life.

Kreator : Vidya D’CharV