One More Time...
Welcome to the last blog entry before my reinsertion into the United States. I will be reinserting myself into Los Angeles on February 19th at 7:30 PM, after a 24 hour layover in Jakarta and a 4 hour layover in Taiwan. Hopefully there will be lots and lots of reverse culture shock, whoopee!
Hannah and I are back from Wamena, enjoying our last two days before we begin our final work week. Wamena was beautiful. Our flight to Wamena was on a small propeller plane, and beneath us the whole way was nothing but completely undiscovered and untouched jungle, with fat, twisting, muddy rivers, doubtlessly rife with crocodiles and snakes and such. I had never seen so much raw wilderness before.
The flight was only 30 minutes long, and when we stepped off the plane we got a preview of what our skin will feel like in just one week's time. Wamena is in the Baliem valley, which is one of the central highlands areas of Papua. The valley has a wide river running through the middle and is surrounded by steep, sharp rocky peeks, in some places reaching fourteen-thousand feet. We could see small patches of snow adorning some of the rock features. For the duration of our stay there the temperature remained about 65 degrees Fahrenheit.
We all thought she could do it, and lo and behold she pulled it off: Louise managed to be gone for almost the entire time we were there to visit her in Wamena. Hiron (her Papuan boyfriend) was reliable as usual and met us with a smiling face at the airport with his friend Danny. We tried to escape the airport without having to face the wrath of Indonesian corruption, but at the last minute a man sidestepped out of a dark room as we passed by and swiftly asked us to step inside. Hiron followed us in, and we sat down. The man took his seat behind a wooden desk, and asked for our "surat jalan" (permission to travel). A surat jalan is required to travel to Wamena because it is politically still very hot there. About one month ago there was a riot and several Indonesian military personnel were shot and killed by a Papuan resistance group called "OPM". So we showed him our surat jalan, and he tried to get us to confess that we weren't there as tourists, but in fact there to help aid the resistance. Hiron stepped in and used his superior command of Indonesian to persuade the man otherwise. After Hiron was sent on a mission to obtain a photocopy of our surat jalan, and after a bit more fuss and scribbling and stamping, we were free to go for the low low price of Rp20,000. Of course we payed.
Outside the airport Hiron hailed a rickshaw for us, and one for himself, and we traveled through the rain to Louise's apartment. The atmosphere in Wamena is nearly silent compared with Jayapura. Most of the street traffic is rickshaws, and the city is much less dense, and just plain less populous. A very refreshing change from Jayapura. Louise's apartment was about a five minute ride from the airport, at the south-eastern edge of town. Hiron had the key so was able to let us in. The floor was smoothed concrete, and some of the walls were made of thin plywood. There was no furniture, and Louise's bed consisted of a single-sized mattress on the floor. There was a small kitchen area with a wooden desk with drawers for a counter top. Out from one corner of the kitchen next to the bathroom wall stuck a wooden plank on which a small portable gas stove sat. After Hannah and I took all this in, we lay down on Louise's mattress and took a nap.
That evening I gave Hiron some money and he and Danny went out to the market to get some food for dinner. The power went out so we ate our vegetable stew with rice by candle-light on the concrete floor. We enjoyed the food, and each other's company, though the only language that was common to both of us was Indonesian. Hiron was born in a village a ways outside the town of Wamena. He is an "Orang Dani" which means he is a member of a tribe of the Dani people. "Orang" in this case means person, the same as in "orang-utan" meaning "person of the forest". Consequently, the Dani language is Hiron's native tongue. Louise is very lucky to have Hiron, as he is quite possibly the most gentle young man I have ever met, and has genuine compassion towards others.
Hannah and I slept well, and the next morning after some oats and coconut milk we all headed out to see the closer of Hiron's two villages. We walked across town, and then hopped the fence enclosing the airport tarmac and walked across that, hopped the fence on the other side, and walked through something like "suburbs" until we reached the Baliem river. The Baliem river is large and to cross we walked across a long, swaying, rope and plank suspension bridge (ever seen Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom?), passing Papuans carrying loads of vegetables and swaddled children. Hannah took a few photos and on the other side we waited for our group to reassemble. We the proceeded down the steps and into a swamp. We passed lots of villagers along the way and had to shake everyone's hand and say hello. We said hello to several naked old men in kotekas (penis gourds) who were all very delighted to see us. To successfully make the trek through the swamp required us to remove our sandals and really feel the mud between our toes. Hiron and Danny helped us find the best patches of mud and plant matter to step on, and we quickly passed out of the swamp into his village area.
All the Papuan villages consist of small groupings of Honais (small grass huts), and are surrounded by crop fields. We were led through the fence of one of the hut groupings, and into the long kitchen honai. The dirt floor was covered in straw, and at either end was a small baked mud circle in the in the ground for cooking fires. We sat in there for about five minutes looking at each other, not saying much, and then moved outside to take some photos with a larger group of villagers. My camera was fussy, but if the photos come out I will be sending copies to them via Louise.
After this we hiked into the beautiful green hills. I couldn't help think of Northern California when I looked to the hills. We visited a cave, into which we could only venture fifty feet or so before seeing became impossible. The we exited and hiked to a large rock outcropping, underneath which was a small pond. A few Papuans sat on rock sticking out from the water, fishing with long reed poles. We sat there for a bit to rest and drink, then Hiron and I left for the larger pond behind us and took a short swim in our underwear. The water was refreshing and shallow, and the bottom was muddy and squishy. We both sat in the grass on the bank to dry in the sun, and he marveled at my leg hair, which turned out to be very different from his.
Back in town we ate some food at a Warung (shack restaurant) and then journeyed to the internet café for one hour, followed by a return to Louise's apartment to rest, eat vegetables and rice again, and then sleep.
The next day (Monday, Feb. 5th) Hannah and I decided to wander around Wamena alone. I took my camera and we brought enough food and water to last us, and walked toward the eastern slopes. We continued along a road running parallel to the mountains, and stopped periodically to look back at the city from above and regain our bearings. We had difficulty trying to find a place for Hannah to pee, and so found ourselves outside a church on a small hilltop, surrounded by a village, looking for a toilet or "designated bathroom area". We found non, but instead a group of three old Papuan women. The third was much older than the other two, and looked at Hannah as if she was an angel from heaven. The older woman smiled a great big smile, and touched Hannah's face, a tear nearly running down her cheek as she did this. The other two finally decided that she'd had enough and coaxed her away into a grouping of honais in a Eucalyptus grove below.
Following this encounter we walked back to town, and once again to Louise's apartment to rest and nap. We ate vegetables again, this time with noodles instead of rice, and tofu as a bonus. A different friend of Hiron's joined us this time.
The next day was Tuesday, and after returning from the market with some food we were greeted by Louise, who was happy to see us, and whom we were happy to see. She had to work that day, so Hannah and I hung out around town, and at the internet café. This time when we were ready to leave the café it began to pour rain. We stood on the step looking gloomily outside when the owner of the café came and said "would you like some pancakes?" This man from the start struck me as very strange. He looked Indonesian, but in an odd way, and had long, straight hair that stuck out at all angles. His accent was also very peculiar. He led us into the back of the café were we were introduced to two young Dutchmen, who happened to be making cheese pancakes. We ate and talked, and learned that the owner was actually from Japan, and after what sounded like a rather exciting life, had come here to the central highlands of Papua to set up an internet café!
The evening Louise took us to the church near her apartment where she had started teaching English for free to a wonderful group of young students. After the fun and games of learning English... we got to have a jam session... in the church... with God's instruments. I played the drum set there, and Hannah played the keyboards, and we had a great time. Later I switched to guitar and soiled the church walls with "Born Under a Bad Sign", and other unholy blues variations. What fun!
After the music we all joined in circle and sang a hymn, after which the pastor had invited me to say a prayer. *Oh... shit!* I had about 30 seconds while they sang to think of a prayer that didn't expose me for the fraudulent Christian that I was, and it when they finished singing it went something like this:
"God is lucky to have such wonderful and devoted students such as yourselves, and may he continue to bless you with the opportunity to follow your dreams."
When I finished everyone remained silent with their heads down, and Hannah frantically whispered to me "Amen! Amen!" I said "amen" and then I was finished.
They all took pictures of us and then we marched off to Louise's apartment again to get some food, pack, and finally go to sleep. In the morning we said goodbye to Louise and Hiron and flew back to Jayapura to live out the rest of our vacation time. Now here I am sitting in the dining area at the teacher's house, writing my final blog entry before I finish my Papuan Adventure and return to the states. I've already got most of my things packed to ensure that this last week won't be too stressful. Antonia and Wade seem to have a farewell barbecue planned for Hannah and I next Saturday, which sounds exciting to me!
Hannah and I will be separating upon our departure from Jayapura. Our relationship has come to its natural end and we hope to make this last week together a delightful and peaceful one.
Thanks to all those who faithfully read my accounts, and I look forward to seeing you soon!
-Nick
Hannah and I are back from Wamena, enjoying our last two days before we begin our final work week. Wamena was beautiful. Our flight to Wamena was on a small propeller plane, and beneath us the whole way was nothing but completely undiscovered and untouched jungle, with fat, twisting, muddy rivers, doubtlessly rife with crocodiles and snakes and such. I had never seen so much raw wilderness before.
The flight was only 30 minutes long, and when we stepped off the plane we got a preview of what our skin will feel like in just one week's time. Wamena is in the Baliem valley, which is one of the central highlands areas of Papua. The valley has a wide river running through the middle and is surrounded by steep, sharp rocky peeks, in some places reaching fourteen-thousand feet. We could see small patches of snow adorning some of the rock features. For the duration of our stay there the temperature remained about 65 degrees Fahrenheit.
We all thought she could do it, and lo and behold she pulled it off: Louise managed to be gone for almost the entire time we were there to visit her in Wamena. Hiron (her Papuan boyfriend) was reliable as usual and met us with a smiling face at the airport with his friend Danny. We tried to escape the airport without having to face the wrath of Indonesian corruption, but at the last minute a man sidestepped out of a dark room as we passed by and swiftly asked us to step inside. Hiron followed us in, and we sat down. The man took his seat behind a wooden desk, and asked for our "surat jalan" (permission to travel). A surat jalan is required to travel to Wamena because it is politically still very hot there. About one month ago there was a riot and several Indonesian military personnel were shot and killed by a Papuan resistance group called "OPM". So we showed him our surat jalan, and he tried to get us to confess that we weren't there as tourists, but in fact there to help aid the resistance. Hiron stepped in and used his superior command of Indonesian to persuade the man otherwise. After Hiron was sent on a mission to obtain a photocopy of our surat jalan, and after a bit more fuss and scribbling and stamping, we were free to go for the low low price of Rp20,000. Of course we payed.
Outside the airport Hiron hailed a rickshaw for us, and one for himself, and we traveled through the rain to Louise's apartment. The atmosphere in Wamena is nearly silent compared with Jayapura. Most of the street traffic is rickshaws, and the city is much less dense, and just plain less populous. A very refreshing change from Jayapura. Louise's apartment was about a five minute ride from the airport, at the south-eastern edge of town. Hiron had the key so was able to let us in. The floor was smoothed concrete, and some of the walls were made of thin plywood. There was no furniture, and Louise's bed consisted of a single-sized mattress on the floor. There was a small kitchen area with a wooden desk with drawers for a counter top. Out from one corner of the kitchen next to the bathroom wall stuck a wooden plank on which a small portable gas stove sat. After Hannah and I took all this in, we lay down on Louise's mattress and took a nap.
That evening I gave Hiron some money and he and Danny went out to the market to get some food for dinner. The power went out so we ate our vegetable stew with rice by candle-light on the concrete floor. We enjoyed the food, and each other's company, though the only language that was common to both of us was Indonesian. Hiron was born in a village a ways outside the town of Wamena. He is an "Orang Dani" which means he is a member of a tribe of the Dani people. "Orang" in this case means person, the same as in "orang-utan" meaning "person of the forest". Consequently, the Dani language is Hiron's native tongue. Louise is very lucky to have Hiron, as he is quite possibly the most gentle young man I have ever met, and has genuine compassion towards others.
Hannah and I slept well, and the next morning after some oats and coconut milk we all headed out to see the closer of Hiron's two villages. We walked across town, and then hopped the fence enclosing the airport tarmac and walked across that, hopped the fence on the other side, and walked through something like "suburbs" until we reached the Baliem river. The Baliem river is large and to cross we walked across a long, swaying, rope and plank suspension bridge (ever seen Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom?), passing Papuans carrying loads of vegetables and swaddled children. Hannah took a few photos and on the other side we waited for our group to reassemble. We the proceeded down the steps and into a swamp. We passed lots of villagers along the way and had to shake everyone's hand and say hello. We said hello to several naked old men in kotekas (penis gourds) who were all very delighted to see us. To successfully make the trek through the swamp required us to remove our sandals and really feel the mud between our toes. Hiron and Danny helped us find the best patches of mud and plant matter to step on, and we quickly passed out of the swamp into his village area.
All the Papuan villages consist of small groupings of Honais (small grass huts), and are surrounded by crop fields. We were led through the fence of one of the hut groupings, and into the long kitchen honai. The dirt floor was covered in straw, and at either end was a small baked mud circle in the in the ground for cooking fires. We sat in there for about five minutes looking at each other, not saying much, and then moved outside to take some photos with a larger group of villagers. My camera was fussy, but if the photos come out I will be sending copies to them via Louise.
After this we hiked into the beautiful green hills. I couldn't help think of Northern California when I looked to the hills. We visited a cave, into which we could only venture fifty feet or so before seeing became impossible. The we exited and hiked to a large rock outcropping, underneath which was a small pond. A few Papuans sat on rock sticking out from the water, fishing with long reed poles. We sat there for a bit to rest and drink, then Hiron and I left for the larger pond behind us and took a short swim in our underwear. The water was refreshing and shallow, and the bottom was muddy and squishy. We both sat in the grass on the bank to dry in the sun, and he marveled at my leg hair, which turned out to be very different from his.
Back in town we ate some food at a Warung (shack restaurant) and then journeyed to the internet café for one hour, followed by a return to Louise's apartment to rest, eat vegetables and rice again, and then sleep.
The next day (Monday, Feb. 5th) Hannah and I decided to wander around Wamena alone. I took my camera and we brought enough food and water to last us, and walked toward the eastern slopes. We continued along a road running parallel to the mountains, and stopped periodically to look back at the city from above and regain our bearings. We had difficulty trying to find a place for Hannah to pee, and so found ourselves outside a church on a small hilltop, surrounded by a village, looking for a toilet or "designated bathroom area". We found non, but instead a group of three old Papuan women. The third was much older than the other two, and looked at Hannah as if she was an angel from heaven. The older woman smiled a great big smile, and touched Hannah's face, a tear nearly running down her cheek as she did this. The other two finally decided that she'd had enough and coaxed her away into a grouping of honais in a Eucalyptus grove below.
Following this encounter we walked back to town, and once again to Louise's apartment to rest and nap. We ate vegetables again, this time with noodles instead of rice, and tofu as a bonus. A different friend of Hiron's joined us this time.
The next day was Tuesday, and after returning from the market with some food we were greeted by Louise, who was happy to see us, and whom we were happy to see. She had to work that day, so Hannah and I hung out around town, and at the internet café. This time when we were ready to leave the café it began to pour rain. We stood on the step looking gloomily outside when the owner of the café came and said "would you like some pancakes?" This man from the start struck me as very strange. He looked Indonesian, but in an odd way, and had long, straight hair that stuck out at all angles. His accent was also very peculiar. He led us into the back of the café were we were introduced to two young Dutchmen, who happened to be making cheese pancakes. We ate and talked, and learned that the owner was actually from Japan, and after what sounded like a rather exciting life, had come here to the central highlands of Papua to set up an internet café!
The evening Louise took us to the church near her apartment where she had started teaching English for free to a wonderful group of young students. After the fun and games of learning English... we got to have a jam session... in the church... with God's instruments. I played the drum set there, and Hannah played the keyboards, and we had a great time. Later I switched to guitar and soiled the church walls with "Born Under a Bad Sign", and other unholy blues variations. What fun!
After the music we all joined in circle and sang a hymn, after which the pastor had invited me to say a prayer. *Oh... shit!* I had about 30 seconds while they sang to think of a prayer that didn't expose me for the fraudulent Christian that I was, and it when they finished singing it went something like this:
"God is lucky to have such wonderful and devoted students such as yourselves, and may he continue to bless you with the opportunity to follow your dreams."
When I finished everyone remained silent with their heads down, and Hannah frantically whispered to me "Amen! Amen!" I said "amen" and then I was finished.
They all took pictures of us and then we marched off to Louise's apartment again to get some food, pack, and finally go to sleep. In the morning we said goodbye to Louise and Hiron and flew back to Jayapura to live out the rest of our vacation time. Now here I am sitting in the dining area at the teacher's house, writing my final blog entry before I finish my Papuan Adventure and return to the states. I've already got most of my things packed to ensure that this last week won't be too stressful. Antonia and Wade seem to have a farewell barbecue planned for Hannah and I next Saturday, which sounds exciting to me!
Hannah and I will be separating upon our departure from Jayapura. Our relationship has come to its natural end and we hope to make this last week together a delightful and peaceful one.
Thanks to all those who faithfully read my accounts, and I look forward to seeing you soon!
-Nick
posted by Nick at 6:22 PM
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