Heart of the high country

Flying to Wamena

Due to the 0400 wake-up yesterday I was stirring way before the 0600 alarm I had set for myself. I went down to the hotel’s restaurant for a breakfast of soto ayam (chicken soup with shredded chicken, lightly spiced) on rice (rather than noodles) topped with some veges.

The Rasen hotel offers a complimentary shuttle to the airport and I got there about 0700, which was the recommended check-in time for my 0915 flight to Wamena, the heart of the highalnds. Yes, rather ridiculous for a 30 minute flight.

There wasn’t much of a queue. When I got to the desk, I was offered an earlier flight which was not on the schedule; it had a nominal time of 0630 and I was told it would depart about 0830.

While it looks haphazard, it was very clever of the Trigana Air to publish a schedule of three flights and waitlist/overbook substantially then put on extra flight(s) to handle the overflow. As it turned out, I departed at 0800 on an old ATR72 instead of a (probably older) Boeing 737 (they run 200 and 300 series aircraft). The flight was probably half-full, filled with largely Papuans and a few other Indonesians.

The smaller plane offered a better view from a lower altitude and took probably 10 minutes longer. The area we passed on take-off was rolling green grasslands without any trees. Then we were met with very high mountains. We passed between them and descended into Wamena and landed at 0840.

The terminal was a zinc-roofed wooden shed where departing passengers were kept separate from us behind a wire mesh fence. We collected our bags from a low wooden counter as they were passed to us in exchange for our luggage receipts. The Boeing 737 (first flight of the day from around 0715, delayed) roared pass on the runway and I was pleased I wasn’t on it as it would be bedlam jostling for luggage with about 100 people!

I expected touts to hassle me for hiking trips at the airport (as indicated in the guide book). I may not have looked like the outdoor type and I walked straight out hassle-free to the public area then to the road where I took an ojek to the Putri Dani hotel.

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Settling In

The hotel was like a delightful home with clean everything (it is a relative standard) and a nice garden with outdoor sitting area and a fishpond. Even the bedding was of high quality and not worn out. Sure, it is a little rough around the edges but it is possibly my nicest small accommodation ever in Indonesia.

The lady owner turned out to be from Timor Leste. I asked if she was still East Timorese. She laughed and said that now she’s Indonesian! Life does take funny turns.

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Initial Explorations

After a bit of reading and planning, I decided to go for a walk to Pugima. But first, I went to the police station to report my arrival. The officer responsible was at church. The officer present said “sekarang hari minggu, dia pergi beribadah” … that last word is probably a word reserved for Muslims in certain jurisdictions in Malaysia (along with the prohibition for Christians to refer to God as Allah in the local language).

I left a copy of my travel permit with them and I can ring later to check when it has been stamped. Without the stamp, I may not be allowed past checkpoints to places further from town.

I walked around briefly (admiring some very fat pigs) to look for bemos to take me to Waseput. Being Sunday, there were none to be found and I took an ojek instead.

At Waseput I crossed the river from there and walked about 35 minutes to Pugima. There wasn’t much to see per se but it gave me an introduction to the area. The Papuan ojek driver and the people I met on the rural walk were all nice, soft-spoken and friendly. It prompted me to think why Indonesian Papua has evolved so differently from PNG (I haven’t been but everyone who has been to Port Moresby seems to think it is very dangerous).

The weather in Wamena is neither warm nor cool, somewhat pleasant but still humid. It reminded me of Bario in the highlands of Sarawak (where I come from), on the island of Borneo. But googling it, I realise at 2000m, this is twice the height of Bario.

Back in Wamena, nearly all the shops were still closed but a handful were stirring. They open at 1pm being Sunday. It made sense for me to rest briefly before grabbing some lunch.

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Bureaucratic Frustrations

I rang the police station to check whether my permit had been stamped. The line was very bad but I think they said that they would txt when it is ready. Sure enough I got a txt saying it would be ready in 5 minutes. I turned up about 45 minutes later and the copy of my permit was still there unstamped. They told me to come back tomorrow.

This was one of those situations whereby you think it would have to give a small “tip”. But I was afraid of insulting them if they weren’t being purposely obstructive to gain something in return.

Anyway, I had a light dinner of mie bakso and walked back in the light rain to a restful evening in my comfortable bed.

A few observations

Things in Wamena are expensive. Water is IDR20K whereas it is IDR5K in other Papuan cities, despite being a locally made brand. A Nasi Padang meal was IDR40K in a simple place which is probably just a bit more than in other Papuan cities. Overall, Papuan cities are more expensive than the rest of Indonesia, I reckon, perhaps due to the shipping costs.

Wamena is also very clearly Papuan-majority. Biak was quite a mix whereas Sentani was mixed but quite Papuan. Alcohol is strictly prohibited in parts of Papua. It’s quite funny that it is legally and freely available in this Muslim country but banned in parts of the Christian areas. I wonder if the lawmakers know about the potential for abuse (perhaps due to a certain gene or lack thereof) which one sees so commonly with the aborigines in Australia.