Frolicking with men in their birthday suits

Finally, my stamped permit

I had a really bad night sleep. It could have been the MSG in the bakso (but it didn’t taste like it was laced with it), or it could have been altitude. Wamena is only 2000m high though, and I slept fine in Leh which was easily double the height.

As a result, it was a sluggish start and after breakfast I made my way to the police station again to get my travel permit stamped. I waited at the gatehouse as most of the cops were in the field at morning assembly which went on till about 0940 (presumably started at 0900).

Once they dispersed, I was sent into the main building where my travel permit was immediately and cheerfully stamped by un-uniformed staff (not sure if they were at assembly).

It was really easy once the right staff were available. Perhaps it was true they weren’t available on the Sunday. And to think that they were holding out for a bribe. I had actually prepared a IDR50000 note in my pocket just in case. It fell out when I had to take my phone out to give them my number. The officer even pointed out to me that I had dropped it.

Going to Jiwika

I took a van to the Jibama terminal which is north of town, going past the bridge which I saw before landing at the airport yesterday. It was a muddy and litter-strewn place. I saw my first naked Papuan here walking around with his koteka (penis gourd) on.

Next, I found another van to Jiwika which was about 30 minutes north-east. Once I was dropped off, I continued further by foot to try find Sumpaima where an 18th Century mummy of Wimontok Mabel is held.

I was approached by friendly Jonas who said that he was the custodian of the mummy. So I went with him and once there we negotiated the price for the viewing. He started at IDR1.2m (inclusive of photos) which was far more than the IDR30-70K suggested in the book (exclusive of photos). I opened at IDR50K and we eventually settled on IDR80K.

He brought mum out and put him on a log pedestal. It was a blackened dried corpse in a somewhat foetal position with a koteka on.

The extended family had now gathered with very little or no clothing on. He offered the chance to photograph them in their traditional attire at IDR10K (NZD1) per person per click. I couldn’t justify taking all of them in my photo as it gets expensive.

When I had taken all the three photos that I wanted, some of the girls who had been left out offered a discounted rate of IDR5K. I checked with Jonas if he would be upset if I took on the girls’ discounted rate but he was cool with it.

Then an older man turned up with bone tusks and a shell bib. I paid for one more shot. All in all, I spent IDR180K. It was a lot of money for Indonesia but not for Papua. And you don’t get people anywhere else to get their kit off for less, right?

It felt wrong in some ways but they are generally comfortable in their skin as it was until recently the norm for them. Also, it is small-scale and not mass tourism, with the proceeds going to them directly without any kind of intermediary. Tourism here is very much low-key; I only saw two other foreigners in my whole time here.

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Climbing up to Air Garam

Jonas asked if I wanted to go up to Air Garam, the salt water wells located in the hills. I wasn’t that keen on it but I appeared to have “done everything” much faster than I had expected. I’d just end up in my room doing nothing, right?

Ugede, a 13 year old was the first to offer a reasonable price of IDR50K which I accepted. They are a friendly bunch and a whole group of them came for the first part of the walk. An elderly man, walked alongside me hand-in-hand. As it turns out, his name was also Alex.

The crowd dwindled to leave Ugede, her sister and her mother. We walked through some extremely muddy grasslands before climbing up the hill. It took about an hour before we got to a waterfall which Ugede said was Air Garam but I had my doubts as the book described it as a wells and should take another 30 minutes more.

I was completely drenched with sweat but they were relatively dry. I was happy to finish here and accept it as Air Garam. They explain that they soak banana trunks in the salt water for a few minutes to half and hour. The centre of the trunk is immediately edible but the outside is burnt to produce ashes which can be used as salt.

They tried to get me to go back down solo but I declined. They wanted to go down another way to collect Bunga Padi (padi flowers, a red seed). Ugede and sis showed me down halfway while mum waited at the top. I completed the remainder of the way down to the main road by myself.

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While waiting for the bus, I saw a couple of kids with fruits resembling a red stretched cempedak, measuring over a metre long. They called it Buah Merah. I wonder if they taste nice but I guess I’ll never know.

I managed to get a ride in a half-sized bus (rather than a van) with a pig on the floor back to Jibama. It served as a footrest for most of the people in that row. I asked if the pig was for sale or whether they just bought it. “Neither” was the reply. The lady was bringing it to her relatives in town.

At Jibama, I transferred to a van where a young man was holding a young pig on his lap. The other passengers had to hold their veges away from the piggy. I enquired about the price and it was either IDR270K or IDR2.7m (NZD27 or NZD270). I don’t have a feel for what’s reasonable.

It was 1530 by the time I grabbed lunch and reached my hotel. My legs and sandals were covered in mud. Time for a good wash, chill and sort through two days of photos in bed.