You Don’t just quit a great job and leave it all behind to lie on a beach. This had been a reoccurring thought of mine for the past 8 months and was once again in my head as I flew from Makassar to Jayapura, the capital of Papua.
I’d be lying to say I had never once dreamed of an earlier time when the world was less explored and some of the worlds great secrets still lay hidden in its forests and jungles. While I have been many places family members may consider remote and far off it always surprises me just how easy it is to travel to these so called far off lands in today’s modern world. I craved somewhere inaccessible, where getting there would be half the challenge. For me, this was the island of New Guinea.
What is not interesting about the second largest island in the world and certainly one of the least developed? With perfect beaches rimming its coastline to unbroken jungles and the highest mountains this side of the Himalaya complete with glaciers, there really is something for everyone. New Guinea’s natural attractions are only trumped by its local cultures which speak 280 different languages. Some tribes in the interior were not “discovered” until the 1930′s and continued to cannibalize their enemies all the way to the 1970′s. Its thought by some that in its most remote corners these practices may still occur although their are also many skeptics as well. Due to a terrible public image of cannibals and tribal war, high costs for traveling, and a serious lack of infrastructure, the average tourists stays clear of the place except for the extremely wealthy on all inclusive package tours or a growing number of intrepid types.
For those unfamiliar with the geography, the island is split into two with the east belonging to Papua New Guinea and the west to Indonesia with the province title of Papua (formerly called Irian Jaya).
My first view of Papua met every expectation as I gazed out of the plane window at the endless trees which seemed to blanket mountains almost rising from the beach and not a single road in sight. Once on the ground, my first two days were spent booking a flight to the interior and securing a Surat Jalan which special permit for visiting other parts of Papua. The permit took all of an hour to get at the local police station and cost me nothing although I learned later that a small “donation” is appreciated.
I stay in Sentani which is the town the airport is situated in but has a descent attraction itself, Danau Sentani which is a massive lake complete with island villages and an other worldy looking shoreline. I planned to spend a day around the lake but decided to save it for the return trip as I was too excited to get into the highlands.
The following morning I was due to fly out at 10am on the second flight of the day but due to some cloud cover I was grounded for 3 hours. I began having Fort Albany flashbacks waiting standby in a tiny little airport, only this time I was trying to get in to the isolated region, not out. Around 130pm we were in the air and beside me I was lucky enough to meet Vinna, a Javanese girl working for World Vision doing public education on HIV in Papua. When we landed we decided to split the transportation costs to the city which was a good decision on my part, for waiting in the terminal were a handful of English speaking guides in ambush. One guide quickly caught my attention for he appeared as Papuan as they come but spoke English with a strong Texas accent. Really blew my mind and when I asked him where he learned english he sort of chuckled and said he lived with Texan missionaries in his youth. Not interested in using guides who seem to be waiting for tourists I tried to escape with help from Vinna saying I was a guest of World Vision.
It was still early in the day and I had lots to do and decided to explore the small town of Wamena while following up some leads and meeting with a couple guides who had been recommended to me previously. It begs to be said just how different Papua is from the rest of Indonesia. When the Dutch let go of its hold on the Indonesian colony, they hung onto New Guinea in order to prepare West Papua for independence as in just about every way the Papuan’s shared no cultural link to the rest of Indonesia. Unfortunately Papua’s richness in natural resources was to be its demise and when Indonesia threatened to go to war over Papua, the peoples dreams of an independent state were crushed. There still remains a strong separatist movement carried out by a group called the OPM but with trans migrasi transplants from overpopulated regions settling in and a giant mine in Timika, its doubtful we will ever see a West Papua nation.
Having hired plenty of guides in the past, I was surprised by just how big a pain in the ass this was becoming to find one in Wamena. I was a little nervous for some Baliem Valley guides have created a bad reputation for the others by demanding more money half way through or leaving tourists stranded in the jungle and since I was planning a 2 week trek, I wanted someone I could get along with. I got a few recommendations from the hotel as well as a knowledgeable Japanese man who runs an internet cafe in town. All seemed very friendly but due to the distance and rugged trekking required to reach the Yali tribe as I wanted to do, charged preposterous amounts of money as a guide fee. I began looking at a shorter and easier option which left me feeling just a little disappointed until I met Younous. Younous was an older and very experience guide (as well as expensive) who understood my budget issues and offered to set me up with a couple porters he regularly uses and knew the route well but didn’t speak English. I met Minous the porter at my hotel that night and we came to a fair price with the help of Younous and agreed to meet the next morning to pick up supplies. When I first met him my first impressions were not good for he looked as though he just came from murdering his family for his face never changed from the scowl it displayed. I began having doubts if this would work out between us. I didn’t know it then but minous would be one of the greatest people I have met while traveling and may have possible saved my life.
With the annoying bits out of the way I met Minous for our shopping trip the next morning to pick up food and ask about the possibility of a missionary flight back to Wamena. Our plan was to spend a week walking to Angguruk in Yali country and with some good luck, fly back on a tiny missionary plane. Things did not look good for when I spoke to the pilots they regrettably told me my chances were very slim but if I was out there and so were they, they would happily fly me back. It didn’t look promising in the least but I tried not to think of an extra weeks worth of walking to get back.
The rest of the morning was spent at the Pasar or market where most of the tribes people come from the hills to sell their produce. A couple of large bags full of carrots, potato, cabbage, tinned tuna and packs of cigarettes for the porters and we were finished. I was happy to know I wouldn’t starve as it seemed to me at the time that we bought far too much food.
I left Minous and we agreed at 7am to catch a bemo to the starting point of our trek. I then headed over to the internet cafe so I could type a “If you don’t hear from me in two weeks this is where I might be” email to Lianna and made it back to my hotel just in time for Vinna to give me some more Indonesian language lessons. I went to bed that night wondering if I may just be in over my head this time.
