Meeting the Free Papua Movement in the Jungle.

As with hitchhiking boats, it’s quite easy.

Wake up in the morning, follow some guys in a muddy, labyrinthine, flooded jungle track for almost 2h and you get to the “especial place” gathering.

How to get these people to show you the way is another story, but involves books 😀

Once you reach the nice gathering place you learn how Taro is cultivated: you take the plant, collect the roots (sweetpotato like, but thicker and drier), put the branches on the hole again, wait for 6 months, repeat. They also hunt opossums as meals, food is not a problem :).

Then the gathering, most of the people are old men. Everything starts with a prayer, then a summary of the news. Worryingly they think that by September the UN will vote for West Papua to be independent, UN will send troops to kick out the military and police troops and give them a brand new country.

 

Well, no, the world does not work that way, while all the same the world does work that way in their minds.

 

Being of valencian origin, catalan culture,  growing on the ashes (50 years after) of spanish civil war, failed coup attempt 4 years before I was born, ETA terrorism, West Sahara as an ex colony of spain recolonized by Morocco, and the current independence politics going on, thatbcomes handily when  grasping the settings anywhere else in a struggle of any kind.

From its complexities to its simplifications.

I’ll go for its simplifications as it’s simple, far enough, any other thing would be a book and not a blog post.

Shortly: West Papua colony of Netherlands, UN in the 60-70s wants all the “nations” to lose the colony status, the Indonesians want more land (as it was on any “nation” mind the last 500 years), Netherlands controlled Indonesia, it controls West Papua, So West Papua is indonesia, Indonesia controls it now. Locals no happy, struggle, killings, repression, attacks, more repression, hiding, paranoia and fear of the outside world getting in, shutting of information in and out, government afraid, indigenous ignorant and angry. And this is the “simplified”.

 

I’m told I’m the first foreigner to ever go there, the conflict runs since the 70s (68-69 all started escalating). That can give you an idea of how things are going. Basically as now no foreign press is allowed to roam freely in this part of the country, by law, and the police is really paranoid of that*. On the bright side the new president of Indonesia Jakowi, has said that that has to change, but so far it has not been legislated, nor enforced.

 

With the simplified context let’s go to the meeting. The info comes from one of the few  mid age members that has some basic English and access to the media that talks about West Papua, only one informant from highly biased sources*. On top of the UN September thing, other news of around West Papua, in Timika (city close to a huge mining company, freeport)  it seems that delegation of the FPM is being closed and many people on the streets protests. I’m shown a picture of women laying on the ground in front of the tyres of a military vehicle.  Other news of other detentions and incidents.

After the participants of the meeting and my guide insist that I “interview” them.

Highly exited I proceed with the task starting with the Capitan of the commando. Soon I realize that what I understand of interview and what they understand it’s quite different. Their understanding is ‘say whatever you want, accept it as truth, finish the speech’, my understanding was ‘ask whatever question you might have, push for the answer’.

It would be obvious to anyone that both are incompatible, it was plain for me too, I was to be used as a recording and distribution machine to the “outside world”, despite that I managed to extract 0, 1 or 2 answers per “interview”.

A dozen “interviews” happened, so I got some questions down the line, but far off from what I would have desired. I wanted to paint a board and clear picture of the situation there, but too much interrogation on my part was confronted with uneasiness, nervous looks to the others and rush to the next “interview” by my translator, where the next on the row will describe his/her position and number on the military branch and talk whatever he wanted to be said, usually repeating what was already spoken before… I don’t think they behaved that way out of fear or to hide something but more because of being highly unused to the situation.

 

On the simplified side what I got home is:

• They are really angry at what the Indonesian military and police did and, to some point they felt, where still doing†. Murders, rapes, shootings (one woman sowed me a bullet wound in her palm of when she was a child) and detentions.
• They are old and tired by the struggle and what that something magical will happen in September that will solve ALL their problems.
• They feel left behind socially and economically by all the indonesian population living now in Papua.
• They don’t mind fighting and dying again.
• They are bond  and mind a lot religion.
• One at least wouldn’t mind towing away all non Papuans the sooner the better.
• Worst of all, they feel treated as stupid inferior beings by the Indonesians, whit no mere rights than mere slaves to bis disposed off.

Of all the points obviously the last one sets the reasons why colonialism was so terrible and why despite all the odds against people would risk their lives just to get out of that mentality, specially in a world that does not accept colonialism and slavery any more.

 

Food between the interviews, taro, vegetables, extremely sweet tea or coffee.

Showing of the “militiamen” armed with machetes and lances. History of the commando, old photos, hand made Flag rising, prayer. Many photos with me posing with different sections of the commando.

 

 

Curiously despite the opposition to the Indonesians all the meeting is held in Indonesian language even when everybody could understand the local language.

Also as I mentioned there are not many young people among the units, I’m told they are afraid to continue with the struggle, only those with family reasons join the fight.

 

 

On the evening  the sun sting behind the undulating jungle covered lands, the life now revolves around a fire. The hill huts pooping with their brown roofs out of the vegetation provide a resting place. Cooking, telling stories, having warm fire light under the precious shining stars spanning both hemispheres.

A world where life is bountiful and food and warmth is not something to worry about, where the nature is beautiful paradise by default everywhere you go, everywhere you look, where humans managed to put the same old mistakes in a brand oldy new environment.

The fact that I’m not more thrilled about the certainly unlike experience and environment is that I deeply realize how pointless, biased, short sighted and world apart this conflict is, it will take me days to partially overcome that feeling, I don’t think it will ever completely leave me.

It’s like the world does not realize this place exists, is like this place does not know the world exists. Is the world going over the same puzzles again and again and nobody even knows this piece has been created and forgotten in some place of the room?.

 

*I’ll be the living proof of that media being highly biased in a latter incident  (not that the media is not biased perse, but it can get worse, nor that it’s not understandable either).

† On a notice virtually every indigenous Papuan that i met in 1 month in West Papua lst a family member.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Papua Diaries, 31, Papua free movement demonstration, 8th detention

Oh well Let’s extend 2rd law of solo travelling to not go to demonstrations full of military escort. Well anything that military in some kind of operation. They military/police are rather susceptible and unwise.

Wake up early and I go towards where my hitch yesterday told me a Papua free demonstration would take place, from the University to the center of the city, it shall be a 20km long march.

I walk to the place, it is full of police and military. I approach a roundabout and next to someone who I think is a reporter I try to take picture of the people gathered there,  but that guy grabs me, another others joins. They tell me that they are police, however the police standing few meters away, by the road does not move an inch.

At the end some of the military and police moves towards us, I thought they would deal with things, instead they grab me and force me to the police station. I get free of they grasp but I walk along them not to get into trouble. Probably the guy who whas taking pictures and first graved me was a plain clothes police.

On the way to the office innumerable other policemen take pictures of me. I smile :), later I will learn that they do so in order to sell them to the press…

What follows at the police office is the usual Indonesian interrogatory, be asked the same questions again and again by 15 different people in the room, is like they don’t hear what I already said. Odd, and starts to be frustrating after 2h. Also they take many pictures of the content of my pockets, over and over, and write several reports in parallel with their smartphone and by hand. Extremely efficient it seems…

The demonstration is organized by a student movement and the police tells me that reporters are not allowed by law. On addition they tell me that they will broke it down in few hours. It’s supposed to be a long march for freedom, from Abepura, where the university is, to Jayapura center, where the local government is.

The Papua Free movement commando that I met previously told me that despite the government is apparently officially allowing free press in papua, that’s not the case on the the grownd. I would dare to say that the old military elite from the military/police forces remaining from the dictatorship is still nervous about here. I’ll be confirm about that by the interrogation police guy next day.

Well it’s easy to understand. Almost everyone I met lost a close familiar and/or friend by their hands, if what the locals told me is true. Families being big it might explain why so many seem affected, but it still describes a brutal repression and murders and rapes well into the 21 century.

 

Anyway the police is deeply suspicious and is detaining me yet again (for few hours). It does not help that one guy is trying to see all my pictures, where the Papua free movement ones are. Luckily they are buried along thousands of others, but I must already  remove them from my camera. I’m a bit too careless.

My host is called (this time I learned from my last detention and I give his details), when he comes I’m bailed out. Coincidentally he works on the bank that is just in front of where the march that has not been allowed to progress is. Now is just a stand off that takes all day. I therefore can go to the upper floors of the bank and I can watch the demonstration without the police detaining me, good enough, but I would love to mingle there! ugggh, i so much would like to mingle in there and take amazing pictures. My consolation is that i can see it from above.

Quite cool, many people with painted faces wearing the west papua flag  and (un)dressed in the traditional way of Wamina (the highlands) with the kotekas, penis covers.

The demonstration is small anyway, few thousands at best. Yeah not letting it progress only shows the nervousness of the establishment.

In fact, has any pacific demonstration ever changed something? usually is the crack down of those which start change, but the ones that come to my mind that have been pacific and allowed to progress, have done nothing, even if they where massive. Only when you start repression you are endangering yourself. I guess usually power is inherently self preserving stupid. That’s why it has changed hands so many times.

 

The clever one is self preserving but doesn’t change hands so often.

 

On last note, the police for some reason leaked my details to the press: name, university and what not. That’s how that picture at the beginning of the post happened to be and now is linked with my name, forever or as long google does it 😦

So worried all my life of my details going to the web without my complete supervision and masking and now I’m all over the press. It was translated to english, then catalan, spanish… my PhD supervisor and friends piked it at home. Great…

http://papuanews.id/2016/06/15/polisi-amankan-wna-ditengah-demo-knpb/

Spanish tourist arrested at demonstration in West Papua

http://www.vilaweb.cat/noticies/detenen-un-catala-en-una-manifestacio-a-favor-de-la-independencia-de-papua-occidental/

Btw the reports of my detention have been greatly exaggerated (paraphrasing Twain). Is not a “detention” per se and the headlines saying that thousands others where detained was a complete exaggeration, non was detained, only they where not allowed to advance on the long march, so it became a stand off demonstration.

Anyway as always and as everywhere press does its job in its own way, it has not changed in hundreds of years and I lived through the facts. I shall be happy to experience how the world really works, I don’t feel happy…

2nd, The Interesting bit. Mountain bird head peninsula crossing, West Papua

 

Comes from 1st
-Second: walk up and then down, and…

 

 

You have 100km in front of you, here the wikiloc sketch, it starts at km 41 on that track. I think in 3 days it can be done all walking, for the ones ready for it, but I recommend 4 days with 3 obvious stops on the river crossings. Or skip the last day (24km) as the road is less interesting (paved at half way) and it’s easier to catch a ride. If you come the other way that might change as it shall be less challenging and you can skip altogether the track to get there.

 

1st Trek

After the bridge the road starts to be unpaved. The first slope of about 8km climbs from 400m to almost 1000m. It’s almost all up with maybe 2 breaks as flatter parts. The views on your back, as you ascend, are magnificent, look back and enjoy the moment!

Fresh it took me 1h and I’m not on shape at all. The road is wide and of crushed rock. I did zigzags to put less stress on my legs. So with less weight and more prepared that shall be done easily and it’s one of the most challenging passes, the are only 2 more like that. On the sides runs fresh drinkable water, nobody lives there!

Just after getting on the top of the pass I got a ride, lucky me, a four wheel pickup. I rode on top of cement sacs and under wood panels.

What follows is mountain road with many ups and downs as it traces the mountains. Striking views.

Around 20km later an abrupt descend to a river valley forced the driver to cool the brakes with water of a hoof on the road. Few kms ahead there is a bigger river and bridge, with 5 houses there (km 63 on my wikiloc track). If you came walking I suggests to stop there to pass the night.

The inhabitants where fascinated that my ride piked me up walking the mountains 🙂

 

2nd Part

I continued with my pickup, after the river bridge there is another harsh ascend. We had to stop a couple of times to put rocks on the rear wheels mid slope so the car could muster enough power to clear the stretch.

Another descend cut by a river crossing with no bridge. There you shall wet your pants if you go walking but it’s passable.

I was stopped in settlement of 15 houses and 2 huts scattered in 4 clusters. Strangely they told me the name of 4 villages (3 houses per village?, maybe resettlement from somewhere, as there is no running water there), but the settlement got the name of Meia Selatan.

Continuing about 3km slowly down there is the interesting part of the trek and why it has to be done walking. “Kali (river) Sisu”, I’ll call it Cool Big River 🙂

That shall be your stop, there is a sizable village (with school) less than 1km before the river, and a road construction camp just before the river.

I crossed in 2 of the 3 possible ways (for fun) depending on your preferred method sleep on the village or camp.

The 1st: From the village ask the locals to show you the “jimbatan”, the hanging bridge. If the road bridge is not finish yet (it might take years…) they shall bring you to a hidden small track that crosses a terrific forest using fallen huge tree trunks as bridges on the way. After the tricky path the hanging bridge awaits. No words for that, only awesomeness.

The 2nd: From the camp ask how to cross, the answer came as excavator. Yeah, cross a river by excavator, exultant awesomeness.

What I did, crossed by hanging bridge, found the excavator on top of the slope, it was evening, so I crossed back with it to sleep, joined by the locals back from hunting, caring their bows and arrows and mobile phone to take pictures with me XD. And next morning excavator cross again!

The 3rd method, grab a branch and follow the current until you can get to the opposite bank. A kid did it. Cool but not electronics friendly.

 

3rd Part

Here is where walking is necessary. There is nothing on the other side of the river, and since no cars nor trucks can cross, there is only the 2 feet (or 2 wheels, I was told in the next village that a Russian did that way some time earlier than me 🙂

I starter walking at 8 and by 10:30 I crossed the 10 km to the next village. Good rhythm. After the first slope the terrain flattens, crossing the mountain with its ups and downs.

Terrific views again of pristine forested mountains.

The road in this section is scattered with excavators working, and becomes really muddy at times, but nothing reads impassable.

The town, Ayapoker, has a small shop where to fill your stomach and bags with food. The locals will fill your water (not much running water on the way) and maybe tell you about the crazy Russian and Barcelona guy who crossed before 😀

When I was there a young school teacher from Sulawesi spoke perfect English. Curious to found in the most remote village of this road.

The road slowly climbs all the way. 5km ahead there is another road camp where they offered to feed me. Since i lost 1h in the village to let pass a rain cloud, I pushed on.

A couple of km more a really small town they called Ayay, no place to eat there. I pressed on again. In 5km there was supposed to be next town. Well, not exactly.

 

Here what happens:

The road climbs to 900m and then down, the views of the valley down are really beautiful. A town in the middle by the river, with a telecom tower and a road climbing on the other side of the valley.

Promising, but the way down is a non visible really abrupt fall, with a excavator trowing rocks on top and a storm coming from the other side, mmm… bad.

Another excavator operator tells me the way down is 1 km or a way around it’s 2 (or so i understood). Not pleased to advance into an invisible way down with half a tone rocks falling form the excavator on top, I decide for the roundabout.

What I thought was a small service road 500m ago on the side of the road is a detour that goes up to 1100m and then down in… 12km, yeah not the best detour when a storm approaches, at the end of the day, and still steppy. My Walking sticks shorten a lot on this way.

When down you can see where the new shortcut is being build.

By the river a road leads to the town but I’m invited to a “hotel” hut by the main road, after crossing the river again.

Either the town (also called Ayay, apparently), or the “Hotel” Papua make a good stop..

I’m told there is no town (next one is Asiti), or houses until 25 kms, that will be false, again.

 

Optional 4th trek.

From “hotel” Papua I left early, 7:00, after I was forced to take a breakfast.

The road there continues to be unsealed but except for a couple of trunk bridges and a stream crossing, it shows the intention of being a sealed main road soon.

The morning is scenic, with clouds climbing on the rainforested mountain slopes and valleys. But other than that there is nothing to call home, only the gorge viewpoint that I marked on OpenSreetMaps (few metres inside the forest, before crossing the stream) you can find on the Maps.me app.

 

The road is not challenging at all anymore and after 10km it becomes paved, maybe 1 or 2 km more there is a small settlement of 5 houses or so (that I forgot to ask the name). There I saw a car pass and I piked it, no reason to walk anymore.

 

What follows is the most hardcore hitchhike I’ve done, and I been in really hardcore ones already, they are child play in comparison :D.

1st How to get to the interesting bit. Mountain bird head peninsula crossing, West Papua

From Sorog I hitchhiked my way asking to be drooped at Ayamaru first.

Be carefully, twice I did this way (the first for some tourism, to the lakes of the region of Aitinyo, see here a bit) and twice I was driven first to Tembubian, 50km to the south.

There is a road under construction to Ayamaru junction from there , but it adds 100km…

From Ayamaru then ask to go to Susumu, where the junction of the road that goes south to Bituni, and north to Manokwary is.

I would consider this the center of the peninsula as it links the 3 big cities, but it’s just a small scattered town, no good connections yet.

From Susumu the next big town north is Ayamasi, then the last town before the mountains is Konja.

This trek shall be around 50-60km from the junction (I went back and forward so I lost count). All around this road I would suggest to make your stop before attempting the mountains. The obvious place is Konja, as from there is only a 10-20min ride to the bridge that starts everything.

 

You can also directly ask for Manokwary road, you will get strange looks but it might work 😀

For accommodation don’t worry, walk around and somebody will offer, or your hitch, if you hitchhiked, will be more than exited to have you over. If not ask around politely and you will find a place and probably be fed. And of course if you bring your tent or hammock it’s always easy to find a roof in case it rains. Is not cold at all.

Well if you are attempting this craze I guess you already know that 🙂

I was invited to Kumurkek to sleep, south of Ayamasi, so on Sunday that nobody drives there and I had to walk my way quite a lot until the mountains. Still I got 3 rides, one special one in which half the small town of Man rode me to the bridge to enjoy the spectacle of a Buleh (westerner) walking alone up a 3km long 30% slope carting 15kg.

 

The road until there is good, with its bigger or smaller potholes to remind you where you are.

After that bridge what is the welcoming of the adventure. Thank you.

 

Next the interesting bit.

 

 

 

Independent mountain crossing of West Papua bird head peninsula Sorong to Manokwari on the Mountains, integrated Dante cross.

I did this trek and it took me 4 days. There are 100km give or take of Mountain road, plus another hell Mountain bit later on (more on that later).

Here is the GPS track of the interesting mountain crossing bit.

And I’ve put several viewpoints in OpenStreetMap using Maps.me, when I have time I’ll add other info like towns using a better editing program. If you download the West Papua map you shall have them as reference. Anyway there are not that many options there to get lost.

– First, how to get to the interesting bit.
The interesting bit is 100km, where only your 2 legs (and an excavator :D) will get you trough.

– Second, the interesting bit, 100km of unpaved, rainforest mountain road. Hanging bridge, excavator river crossing, and bow and arrow hunters!

– Third hellish hitchhike. Integrated Dante road (hell and Paradise all at the same time) Well is just my personal experience, you can ignore it and just Head Manokwary, it’s easy 🙂

Diaris de Papua, dia 12 vaixells i passaport, per fí!

Pel matí vaig a el port de càrrega altre cop per vore si hi ha cap vaixell nou. Decidisc entrar a un moll que havia passat ahir pensant que no hi haurà cap vaixell, i va i ahi està el port de càrrega mitjana!

Per desgràcia no hi ha cap que vaja a Manokwari, on jo voldria anar, però hi ha alguns que van a Bintuni, que més o menys en ve bé. Hi ha un molt xulo, blau i blanc, deblanc fusta i finestretes quadrades de fusta, estil anglès, que dou que m’agafa. L’únic problema es que serà el disaabte… a esperar més dies.

Vaig al port de carega altre cop i un altre vaixellde carrega/passagers diu que m’agafa, també cap a Bintuni i ixen dissabte.

torne fent autostop i vaig a immigració. Allà espere 1h fins que me’l donen (arrive a les 2 i se suposa era a les 3). Mentre escric.

Vaig al moll de vaixells de passatgers i hi ha un qud va a la nit  a algún lloc que no sé de la costa entre Sorong i manokwari. Interessant super incerta opció.

Ja a casa mire sí hi ha carerera pwr la costa i no hi ha, per tant descarte l’opció del ferri incert. No vuic estar atrapat més dies. A més plou i em fa manda 😛

Prepare el recorregut per carretera pel centre, és visible al satèl·lit, però trabessa les muntanyes, cosa que vol dir mala carretera. A més no em fa gràcia perquè he de repetir un terç del recorregut que ja vaig fer el cap de setmana, cosa que va contra la 2a regla.

Vaig a dormir un poc tart, tot i així prepare els trastos per si m’anime a anar demà d’autostop.

Diaris de Papua, dia 11, the alley.

Drying of Small fish to send to Germany

El 2n dia de recerca de vaixells comtinua per on l’havia deixat, amb els poblats sobre l’aigua i els seus estrets carrerons de fusta en la seua frenètica activitat de gent anant ací  iem allà, xiquets xugant, i transport de mercaderies (mini peixets secs que em diuen que envien a alemanya) em fan somiar móns estranys.

Construisc una imatge d’un món distópic en que tota la vida dicorre al voltant d’un carreró principal que és l’espai overt més gran que hi ha. Tot està amuntegat i no hi ha directa natural al carrer ja que les cases són altes i es toquen entren si..Però tot funciona bé, com.un rellotge, amb gent anant i venint, i Xiquets xugant i explorant.

Un cop he eixit de les barriades (cap sort amb els vaixells que trobe) a un moll hi ha un vaixell hotel per a submarinistes que va a comodo el.dia següent a la nit. Està buit així que demane si em podendur, cosa que molaria molt :D, canvie l’itinerari però aniria a Timor l’est.

Malauradament el capità es preocupa de la policia i diu que demane a la companyia que pose el meu nom a la llista de gent al vaixell.

La companya com és obvi vol que pague, 6milions (400€!), oh well no luck this time.

Travessae un port en decenes de ferris, Tots estan parats sense fer res, suuuper ineficient ús d’infraestructura.

Continue fins al port de carrega (3km més enllà) i desgraciadament no hi ha cap vaixell.

Torne cap a casa un tant desmoralitzat, no hi ha port de càrrega mitjana com a bitung, on vaig trobar L’alken. Bé demà intentaré altre cop.

Torne per les muntanyetes vora la mar, i quan forçat a baixar trabesse una senda empinada prou xula, on hi ha cases, un xiquet tot emocionat crida “Buleh Bule! isini!” Blanc, Blanc, ací! Supose que sóc el primer occidental que travessa allò.

Dine i mire els ferris, a una mala el dissabte hi ha 2 ferris que van cap a l’est.

A l’avinguda unes xiques adolescents papua em demanen de fer-se fotos. Em fan decenes! i una o dos m’abrassen i acaricien massa i volen un ves..Supose que així és com les grupies es comporten en els famosos. Jo somric, passe la tempesta i continue el camí.

És estrany com els humans és completen fàcilment fora del seu paper quan estàn altament exitats per un factor extern. Estria bé fer resonancies en eixes situacions per vore com el cervell s’altera.

Passe per davant  el super i compre fruita per al Ramón, m’ha estat alimentant els desdejunis des de que he arribat!

Ja carregant les bosses, un home s’oferís a dur-me sense jo dir res. Not bad, fa calor i em queden 3km fins a casa.

A casa el Ramón ha dut menjar del seu viatge de cap de setmana i anem a menjar-lo a ca un amic.

Poc més.

Diaris de Papua, dies 9 i 10, recerca de vaixells.

Un cop tornat a Sorong vaig de bon matí a inmigració. Em fan la foto, em prenen les empremtes i em diuen que el meu sponsor (el.Ramón) no val.perquè no té document de Sorong… Torna a començar.

Vaig als de Conservation international a vore si ellsem poden fer d’espobsor, però tots se n’han anat a jokjakarta a un meeting de 2 setmanes…

plou i.passe la resta del.dia a casa fent recerca dels viatges, i mails i poc més.

El.Ramón torna a casa al matí següent, li havien retrassat el vol un dia.

Al dia següent.torne  immigració i criden al.Ramon, li diuen que en una fotocopia del passaport val. Al final ell ve i s’enllestís tot.

Tot i aixi em diuen que per al dijous a les 3pm estarà. El dia anterior vaig llegir que un avió militar transporta passagers fins al centre de Papua, a un lloc un tant turístic perquè alguns nadius encara van (des)vestits de la manera tradicional.
El Ramón i.qui l’ha conduït a immigració em deixen a l’aeroport, però no hi ha cap Hèrcules que vole des de sorong, només des de Jayapura.

Camine lentament cap als molls per preguntar vaixells. Creue el mercat molt xulo… Organitzat, no massa ple, no massa buit, en personalitat, agradable. Menge molt bé allà.

Als molls no trobe massa vaixells, els de pesca no hi van a cap lloc, la resta són xicotets.

No em dóna temps a vore-ls tots ja que gaudisc explorant la super fotografica població de casetes i passarel·les de fusta construïdes sobre la mar. Un tressor de fotos! Se m’acava la bateria i torne  casa a la posta de sol. Gran troballa la vida de la costa. Mescla de Papuan i indonesis.

Un bon dia per a la fotografia, a mesura que m’endinsava als barris sobre la mar l’espectacle visual augmentava. I a cada carreró aconseguia un nou sèquit de xiquets plens d’energia i ganes d’estar a la foto.

En un carrer sobre l’aigua contacte en el Jefta, un de Biak, una illa a meitat distància de Jayapura, que em diu que escriu llibres en la llengua local per a ensenyar als xiquets a l’escola. Em diu que el visite allà i li dic que sí trobe el vaixell aniré.

Diaris de Papua, dia 8, 4a llei del viatger solitari

4th law of solo travel: join the locals in whatever they do, if you can.

Pel matí  tots s’alcen tart. Jo explore la pisifactoria, hi ha més de 12 piscines de cement, a més de les xarxes al llac artificial. Nomes es gasta la metiat de tota la infraestructura, si arriba. Deu haver estat una gran inversió per a la zona.

L’home de la pisifactoria m’havia dit d’anar amb ell a l’església hui, però al final m’envia altre cop amb el guia. Li pague la gasolina. Em du fins a la intersecció en la carretera que du a Teminabuan, on aniré hui.

Camine i veig una festa en honor a un mort, es fa al cementeri, sobre i al voltant de la tomba. La gent balla en música pop a tot ostia i beu. Curiós.

Una moto em du fins a un poble gran, on les esglésies de diumenge. Estàn cantant i fent sonar el timbal. Estic fins que comença la misa, que és  en Indonesi.

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És cert que quan eduques a algú, siga un xiquet, un adult, una societat, el 1r que ensenyes sobre un tema és el que més  força té. Açí l’evangelització, proselitisme, ha estat portat per cristians, serà difícil canviar-ho per molt de temps.

Dones barbudes són molt freqüents, quan dic barbudes vuic dir en perilla, bigot, i una en una barba plena, no sabria dir percentatges però segurament més d’un 1% és així.

També hi ha molts alvins, no sé si arriba a l’1% però és més alt que a la resta de societats que he estat.

Seria interessant estudiar la genèrica ací.
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Un altra moto que du bidons de peix  m’agafa i em du ja fins Temi.

Allà explore la ciutat, on el més interessant és un carrer que transcorre vora riu, amb molts carreronets xulos que hi donen. Les vistes del rou amb tot de barquetes i restes de naufragis molen molt.

Dine allà i vaig cap a la carretera principal per tornar a sorong. Seguint carreronets em topete en una cascada on molts xiquets i adolescents  juguen. La corrent és molt forta. És molt divertit tirar-s’hi i deixar que t’arrastre 🙂

4a llei del viatger solitari: unis-te als locals en qualsevol cosa que fagen, si pots.

Continue l’autostop i.una furgo pickup plena de dimingueros wm deixa a un riu amb un parc per nadar.

Els rius per grans que siguen són d’aigues turqueses i cristalines
Supose que així es com rius sense presència humana i sense grans erosions haurien de ser.

Una pickup em du ja tot el camí cap a Sorong, però decidisc parar en un poble que sé el nom, per fer quelcom simplement, resulta ser una magnífica d’edició!

El poble es diu Maladofo i té un parell de cases comunals tipiques (res d’especial però) i els xiquets que em seguixen, com no, em mostren una casa vora carretera que és una galeria d’art.
Els quadres estàn pintats segurament per un local. El llenç són  antics sacs de plàstic :P. Algunes obres estàn molt bé, la majoria són passables però demostren skill.

La situació de ser mostrat el més vluós del poblat ç, tot i que l’autor no estiga, em recorda a el que passava a Sagunt abans que hi haguera turistes regulars. Sagunt és digne de vore però fa 100 anys poca gent s’interesava. Només algú de tant en tant visitava. Hi havia un mosaic romà  que es podia demanar la clau per visitar. Com els locals no li donaven importància no hi havia vigilància, fins que un dia va desaparèixer.

Es a dir, en presència de baix nombres es confia en el visitant ja que és  l’únic que valora el que hi ha localment (fins els 80 m’atreviria a dir que els saguntins no començaren a apreciar les restes històriques).

El món és igual a 13.000km de distància i 100 anys apart 😛

Continue l’autostop i una gran pickup em deixa anar darrere. Agradable conducció en la.posta de sol, fins que torne  ca’l Ramón.

Diaris de Papua, dia 7, Llacs.

Danau Framu, Turquoise Lake

Voltar amb els xiquets.

Amb els locals (foto capçalera)

Menjant fruita dels arbres PLENS.

nadant al riu.
Autostop cotxe winidepoo.

Guia a aitinyo, llac xulo turistes indonesis 😛

Danau Aitinyo, Lake

Afegint llocs estranys on he dormit, el guia que m’ha sorgit em du a dormir a un lloc de criança de peixos en meitat de les muntanyes. Fishery sleep.

Hi ha una gran tempesta desde les 7 o això fins les 12 passades.