Wai Do I Chose To Do These Things? – Papua Part Two

Feeling rejuvenated after my first night sleep in an actual permanent shelter and on a high from the warm welcomes from the people of Piliam, I was excited to move on through the forested hills towards Angguruk.

An hour or so outside of the village we came across some wonderfully friendly Yali children walking back home to village just outside of Angguruk with the young girls carrying sacks of potatoes and the boys wielding massive machetes. I was again the focus of everyone’s attention as the children stroked my arms and pinched my skin checking to see if I was real possibly? We continued trekking over the mountain and reached a large swamp area which the kids seemed to navigate almost effortlessly despite having just bare feet. It was a few hours of some of the most muddy and uncomfortable trekking thus far and already 6 days into the Papuan highlands, I began to hope my luck might be good enough that there would be a plane waiting for me in Angguruk. Once we climbed over another large mountain we descended into a valley where Tingalmo village layed.

It wasn’t long before I was again surrounded by curious locals in the village as I was brought some fresh fruit and sugar cane to snack on after a hard days trekking. From the village it was easy to see Angguruk was only a few hour walk away but do to it becoming dark we decided to stay the night in Tingalmo. Using my basic Indonesian, I overheard one of my porters asking about a plane in the next few days and when I heard a reply saying there would be a plane in 2 days I was filled with joy as the idea of walking back out through the swamps and up Gunung Elit was just something I did not want to even think about. I went to bed early that night with dreams of airplanes and a hot shower occupying my mind.

It was a pretty straightforward 4 hour walk to Angguruk still with plenty of ups and downs and a few rivers needed to be crossed. Angguruk is the main Yali village of any sort of size and had been the main place for missionaries to base their practice during the time of the Dutch. Complete with an airstrip and small hut which could never seriously be called an “airport”, we made a beeline for this building. After speaking to about 3 separate individuals my worst fears were realized and the airplane we had heard about the day prior was due to come in a few days but would not be stopping in Wamena (our destination) but would be flying to Sentani, which of course did not help us in the slightest. Morale was down for the day as it wasn’t just me who was feeling exhausted. Just about all of us had sore knees and backs and since we were now going to be walking out, we spent the rest of the day resting up.

I spent the evening wandering around Angguruk and meeting some of the locals before heading off back to the family home I was staying in before dark. We started out late the next day as we were almost through all of our fresh food and needed to stock up at the local market nearby. A bag full of cigarettes, fruit, and vegetables and we were quite sure we had enough for the return trip.

Morale was still quite low but mine was lifted when a few hours later we arrived in Walma, the village of some locals I met along the way to Angguruk. I had an entourage of 20 or so children guiding me through their village and the surrounding villages but we had to turn back when the sky opened up and it began to rain.

I slept in Walma that night and enjoyed every mintue of it for I knew the next few days were going to push my limits for I had nothing but forest shelters and “tuku” to look forward to. We trekked faster and harder than the previous week as we were hoping to cover more ground but this proved to be a mistake as Minous took a bad fall on a log and twisted his ankle badly which certainly was going to slow us down. His ankle wrapped and loads redistributed, we continued on and met a young teenager who agreed to carry some of our cooking supplies in exchange for food and cigarettes. We kept him along as we were able to keep our pace despite having a pretty serious injury. We made it up Gunung Elit without an incident which we all were happy to have behind us.

Things got a little scary on the other side when I was climbing down a large tree trunk and grabbed onto a rotting piece of wood which gave way sending me backwards about 15 feet down to some large boulders below. I was certain I would have had serious injury or worse had Minous not thrown himself underneath me breaking my fall. We laughed it off but said nothing and luckily neither of us had anything more than a few more added bruises.

The hardest parts behind us, things got a little easier again although I couldn’t shake my hot shower and hot food fantasy from my head. I realized around Day 10 that I was ready to get out. As much as I love the great outdoors and trekking, 10 days is my maximum. I hadn’t seen a single foreign face or even had a full conversation since I set out and I was craving a little more socialization then the few sentences and questions I had picked up in Bahasa. You can imagine my joy when we came across three Frenchmen and their 10 or so porters on my second last day. They were at the start of their 2 week trek and still fully supplied with cookies, sweets and all the good things I had eaten up in my first few days of trekking. They were kind enough to share as we sat around the camp fire with tea and I shared a few stories of what they could expect in the coming weeks. I chuckled to myself for I have always said no matter how remote you think you are, there will always be a French or German traveler their before you.

Saying farewell we set off for Hitugi early as we had a lot of ground to cover if we hoped to make to the village before darkness. Finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, we covered ground at a Yali like speed and made it to the village well before nightfall where I was greeted by my first Coca cola in two weeks. My final night in a village ended perfectly sitting around listening to my porters and some other porters from a Dutch group strumming their homemade guitars singing some lovely traditional Lani songs.

The final day was a short 4 hours of walking and a few bemo rides back to my hotel in Wamena. It was sad to say goodbye to my porters who I had befriended in the last 2 weeks despite a large language barrier at times. I couldn’t have asked for better companions.Papua had given me everything I could have asked for in a long trek from amazing scenery to incredible cultural experiences. It’s so easy to see Papua as a place of cannibals and “primitive savages who used to eat other people ” but after spending a significant amount of time in their villages and homes it really becomes apparent that we are all apart of the human race and what makes us human never changes. Despite being from a place half way around the world, I felt a connection with the people of the highlands that will be something I can never forget. So if your ever heading into the New Guinea highlands, Don’t come for the naked savages and cannibals, come to meet the most friendly and hospitable people anywhere in the world.

I’ll finish with a video that I took in one of the local churches. Is there really anything better than children singing together?