For a detailed trip description, map, tips , and advice for trekking in the Baliem Valley, go here: https://trekkinginthebaliemvalley.blogspot.com/Papua is to Indonesia, what the Arctic is to Canada. It’s out there. Mostly uninhabited, mostly indigenous, mostly without electricity or modern infrastructure – it’s their last frontier. Obviously a place we needed to check out! (well, truth be told, Amy required a bit of a bribe in the form of some post-hike beach time J – see next post).
A bit of history/geography here, cuz it’s an
important part of the story, and can be a tad confusing. “Papua”, to an
Indonesian, is the western half of the island of New Guinea – the world’s
second-largest island (second only to Greenland), located a canoe-paddle off
the northern tip of Australia. This western half is part of Indonesia, and is
therefore the Indonesian province of Papua. The eastern half of the island is
the sovereign nation of Papua New Guinea. Er, ya, they could have avoided the
wording overlaps a bit better, but hey, that’s the current labelling we’re
stuck with.
So, for clarity, what we’re discussing here
is the western half of New Guinea that belongs to Indonesia, and is called
“Papua”. Papua has had a rough time politically, having been kicked around by
the Dutch and the Indonesians over who gets what, and the de facto uprisings and
calls for independence followed by the obligatory knee-jerk government
crack-downs. It’s one of those “politically unstable” places where blood in the
streets could break out tomorrow. In fact, the Canadian government currently
has a blanket “avoid non-essential travel” advisory for Papua. We ignored that J
OK, so why go? The draw for us is a place
called the Baliem Valley – a true story right out of Indiana Jones. In 1938, an
American by the name of Richard Archbold flew over central New Guinea while
doing zoological surveys. Archbold was shocked to see obvious and widespread
agricultural landscape patterns below him, thereby indicating human
civilization. But you see, until that moment, no one in the outside world had
any idea of their existence. It was a true “first-contact” with a stone-age
civilization. Hmmm. Cool.
Since then, the Dani – as they are referred
to – have inched somewhat into the modern world, but hey, not that much! While
the days of naked cannibals with bones in their noses killing you instantly if
encountered on a trail (which was the situation in 1938) are over, things are
still remarkably prehistoric (and you still see the odd naked guy dressed only
in a penis gourd). The only feasible way into the valley is by air, to the town
of Wamena. Once there, the pavement ends quickly and abruptly, giving way to
walking paths that have been burned into the hillsides since time began.
So that’s the setting: a lost valley deep
in the mountains of central New Guinea, cut off from the outside world until
recently, and home to a stone-age culture of people living in scattered
villages connected by walking paths. No electricity, no phones, no cars, no
nothing other than the odd house made from wood, and the odd pair of flip flops
and package of cigarettes. 
The missionaries who took on the challenge
of “civilizing the savages” have done a shockingly thorough job of converting
everyone to Christianity, and in so doing, insisting they wear clothes, for
example. And, of course, the ubiquitous village church prominently constructed
as the focal point amongst the grass huts. However, given the remoteness and
cost of flying anything in, modern commercial goods are pretty much absent, and
the Dani live almost as they did 1000 years ago (with the exception of flip flops
and cigarettes of course).
Daily life for the average villager
consists of working the hillside crops of sweet potatoes, which constitutes 90%
of their diet. Everything is done by hand, with no use of animals, plows, or power
tools. The standard dwelling, AKA a “honai”, is a water-tight grass hut that
serves as kitchen, sleeping quarters, and center of the universe for a Dani
family. Shockingly though, the key fixture of a honai is a central fire pit
used for cooking and warmth – not so shocking in itself, except for the
complete lack of ventilation. No chimney, no hole in the roof, no windows. The
only way in or out of a honai is a miniature opening at ground level that provides
crawling access. Basically it’s an igloo, with a smouldering fire in the middle
of it. Seemingly oblivious to the carcinogenic effects of smoke inhalation,
they happily spend upwards of 12 hours a day/night inside. We lasted all of 5
minutes, and had to make an excuse to leave to clear our lungs and eyes. (I
actually thought it was a smoke house for smoking meat upon first inspection). 
So what was the mission? The Baliem Valley
could be one of the last relatively untouched, traditional areas accessible
only by foot paths. If you have hiked in Nepal, it is what Nepal must have been 100 years ago, before it exploded. Our mission was a 6-day, village-to-village
trek taking us as far into the Baliem as we dared – the major challenge being
where to go, and which trail takes you to the next village. Given our hatred of
guided tours, we were on our own to blindly go where the trails took us. The
biggest vacuum was getting information and trail beta. There is none. We pretty
much relied on people pointing us in the right direction. We only got lost
once, when we didn’t see another human for the better part of 36 hours,
resulting in an emergency overnight bivi in the middle of a rain storm (as they
say, life is an adventure…or nothing at all J).
As a village to village hike, we stayed
with the locals, and ate lots of sweet potatoes (AKA “ubi”). Luckily, every
village we targeted for the night, had at least one wooden house, and we
therefore avoided having to sleep in a honai. I honestly don’t think we would
have been able to. I have no idea how they tolerate the smoke.
What I think surprised us most, and what we
enjoyed most, was the remoteness, cleanliness, and insanely rugged terrain. The
area is still relatively pristine, and reminded us of some of our best mountain
trips in the interior of British Columbia. We brought water purification tablets,
and didn’t use them. We drank the water they drank, which is the water flowing
off the mountains. Crisp, clean, and
cool like water should be. And, at elevations of 1500 to 2500 m, the cool
mountain air was a breath of fresh air for us. Nice.
Unlike Nepal, which can seem like Disney
Land in places, the Baliem remains relatively undiscovered by us white folk. We
didn’t see another tourist in 6 days, other than a fleeting glimpse of one guy.
It was surreal to be hiking up and down mountains again, drinking water out of
creeks again, then sleeping and eating with the locals in their grass huts. All
in all, an amazing experience, if not an adventurous one.
Also, a humbling experience. The Dani are
lovely friendly people, and were happy to help despite only having the shirts on their backs. Our biggest regret was that we had little to give them. We gave them
our coffee packages, salty snacks, and candies we brought for the kids. But,
the single most-sought-after item they wanted, we didn’t have: cigarettes! Sad
but true. The one thing they really want from modern civilization, is something
that will kill them.
Alas, after six very full days, our feet
and backs were ready for a rest and a return to base. As promised though, Amy first
gets her beach time. Off to the beaches of Lombok!
 |
| Lost in Papua -- staying dry for the night |
No comments:
Post a Comment