This article was originally published in the Wycliffe magazine In Other Words in December, 1975. Here is a reprint of this classic story.
For six months in 1974-75, Jon and Barbara Arensen and Steve Anderson, linguists serving with a partnering organization of Wycliffe, traveled the vast Southern Sudan by Land Rover (4WD vehicle). Invited there by the government, they were on the track of languages—languages crucial to the success of the government's massive educational program. The following is Jon's account of their experiences.
Our starting point was Juba, capital of Southern Sudan. From there we staked out various locations on our map (printed in 1933) and then started driving. On each trip our procedure was the same. Stop along the bumpy road in each village and inquire about the language. Find someone who could speak either English or Swahili (which I also speak) and who would assist us in gathering at least 200 words, 120 grammatical constructions and language tapes. This would have been extremely difficult were it not for certain people with whom we had a common language. It was intriguing to watch the Lord put us in contact with these people.
When we were entering the area inhabited by the Makaraka people, our guide told us that he knew of only one Makaraka man who spoke any English. And he had no idea how to find him. Then, just as we turned a corner in the tall grass, who should flag us down from his bicycle but the very man he had spoken of! Learning our purpose, the man escorted us to his home and within a few hours had given us our language data. This kind of apparent coincidence was repeated many times.
In preparing to survey the area east of the Nile, toward Ethiopia, all our attempts at gaining knowledge of the area were futile. We were unable to find anyone who had visited there in recent years, and we were uncertain whether the tracks indicated on the most recent map of the area (1913!) were even there.
The first leg of our trip took us to Pibor Post, from where we set off to find a mountain 130 miles to the southeast. The local people instructed us to follow the indistinct road a "short way" and then turn right. We drove for two whole days, through tall grass and past thousands of wild animals, never seeing another human being or the "right" turn in the road. A little discouraged, we stopped to consider what to do next when, in the distance, there came the sound of a truck's motor. Soon into view came the vehicle of the local government administrator making his yearly visit to a village on the Ethiopian border! In short order he led us back over the road, showed us the turn-off and waved farewell.
A most interesting experience awaited us. After following the road another 90 miles, we began ascending a mountain. The washed-out road was so steep that it took us two hours to make the three-mile climb to the summit. Once on top we discovered villages, a small police force and old stone bulwark built by the British for defense against the Italians in World War II.
Four different language groups exist in this mountainous region, none of which have had extensive study. They have had virtually no contact with the outside world and most of the people wear bark clothing. One group, the Kichepo, is distinguished by the large clay lip plugs worn by the women.
We must have been quite a phenomenon to these people. Mothers would drag their frightened children over to touch us white strangers. Learning that we were interested in their language, the people invited us to stay and help them to learn to read.
This desire to read was evident everywhere and made the greatest impression on us. Some of the students in the Didinga hills walk 20 miles a day to attend reading classes. Hundreds of students attend; instruction goes on without the benefit of teaching materials. One teacher among the Morokodo holds classes each day in a courtyard where writing lessons consist of tracing the alphabet in the dust by hand. Many of these students had never seen a printed page, but still they could read.
Of the few Bible translations done in Sudan, one in particular stands out to me. Some 30 years ago a missionary went to the Beli people. They were not interested in what he had to say so he went to the Moru people, who were related in custom and language to the Beli. Welcomed by the Moru, he learned their language and began translating the Bible. Today the Beli still live much as they always have, with little change or progress. But the Moru are 90% Christian. Churches and schools flourish. A Moru Christian, Canon Ezra, finished translating the entire Bible. Every few months another book of the Old Testament, in Moru, becomes available to these people. The difference Christ can make through his written Word was clearly evident.
Seventy-seven languages and dialects exist in the Southern Sudan. We estimated that 95% of the population could be effectively ministered to in 23 of these languages. Everywhere we went the people were in favor of their languages being written and the Scriptures translated into them. More than one village pled with us to remain, even offering to build us a home and supply language helpers.
One incident in particular haunts me as I think about the survey as a whole and consider the potential for linguists to work in this country. On a further survey to the southwest of Boma we spent some time among the Boya, also known as the Longarim. These warrior people herded their cattle in the granite mountains and raided neighboring peoples for additional animals. By God's timing we met the chief of the Boya people. He escorted us through his area and told us: "We need outside help. We need medical help and agricultural advice, someone to write our language and teach us how to read. We don't care who comes, and we are willing to believe in anything they teach us if they will only come help us."
Who will reach these people first? What message will they bring? We are requesting permission to enter the Southern Sudan, to bring the Word of God to these peoples. Pray with us that the doors will open so that the Sudanese may come to know the wonderful Way God has provided for them as revealed in His Book. (December, 1975)
Update: June 2002
Jon and Barbara Arensen did the survey described in this article in 1974-75. The Arensens worked for 20 years after that with the Murle people of Sudan, which resulted in the translation of the New Testament in the Murle language in 1996. In 1991 Jon completed a PhD in social anthropology at Oxford University in England. Jon now teaches at Houghton College in New York. Each year he and Barb lead a semester abroad for students in an experiential setting in Africa. The Arensens have three children.
Translation of the Old Testament is underway in the Murle language. There are now about 60 churches in the Murle region. The Kichepo ("Duckbill") people still live on the Sudan-Ethiopia border.
While translation work has begun in related languages, there is none yet in the Boya/Longarim language, nor in the Kichepo language. They still wait.