In the course of my research for the two-part series on the Kingdom of Sedang, I stumbled upon references to a village by the name of “Kon Djéri Kong”, the site where Guerlach said he was based for his catholic mission at the time. I thought knowing more about the place might give me something to add to my blog so I set out on a quest to find it. My journey began with a lead from a Bahnar acquaintance in Kontum. She suggested that the village might Be Kon Jo Dreh nestled on the banks of the Bla river, a little way upstream of Kon Tum City.
Fortune smiled on me when a work event scheduled in Kontum gave me the perfect excuse to take a detour into the countryside. I decided to make the most of it and set off with the vague hope that I might unearth some fragment of the past.
To reach Kon Jo Dreh today, you start on the three-lane highway towards Mang Den, then turn off onto a crumbling, stony road just before the endless rows of rubber trees. As I drew closer to the village, a group of children noticed me and began to follow, some running and others wobbling along on oversized bicycles. Their laughter and whispered chatter provided a lively soundtrack to my otherwise solitary journey.
I visited the village center, where a rong house provided shade for a small vegetable market beneath, next to it was the dignified structure of a squat chapel standing quietly in the afternoon sun. The villagers, kind and welcoming though they were, seemed baffled by my questions. The name Guerlach drew blank stares, and no one knew of any historical missionary. It was disheartening but not entirely surprising; so much has changed in this area over the years. Giving up on my research, I decided to make the most of the sunny afternoon and wandered down to the river, the children trailing along behind me. They entertained themselves by showing off their English, each proudly declaring, “My name is…” followed by whatever made them laugh: “My name is Spiderman,” “My name is Ronaldo.” I recognized this game from my volunteer teaching days, so I joined in with, “My name is Hla Blang!”—a local cassava leaf dish. The kids burst into raucous laughter, delighted by my attempt, and I knew I’d won them over.
After leaving Kon Jo Dreh, I stopped at a church I’d seed from the road called Kon Kơpăt. I was invited into the church by a group of elderly women, who were busy preparing flowers for some forthcoming celebration. The church had a brick front but the back had crumbled to ruin and had been rebuild from wood. The effect was beautiful. The ladies spoke R’ngao, a language that was new to my ears but related to Bahnar. They began to teach me a few basic phrases, laughing at my clumsy attempts. It was a delightful and unexpected exchange.
As I headed back to Kontum, I reflected on the unpredictable path outings can take. Chasing the ghost of an obscure mission had brought me into the heart of a community, where I picked up a few words of the local language and rediscovered the joy of connecting with new people. Living and working here as an expat, it’s easy to fall into routine, but working on this blog—regardless of the outcome—gives me a reason to get out, explore new places, and meet people I’d otherwise never encounter. While I found no trace of Guerlach’s mission or even figured out if Kon Djéri Kong was the same as Kon Jo Dreh, I was reminded that it’s the experiences that make writing this blog worthwhile.
Eastward Ho! 