Silly me! I thought my travel papers would be checked at the Wamena airport upon entry. Wed and Thurs, Feb. 27-28, 08
When no one asked, I figured no one cared. The police care! An Irish couple, who I sat with at breakfast, alerted me to the fact that I have 24 hours to report to the police station. Before going to Pyramid, I will need to check in with the local police-learning process.
The road to Pyramid is one continuous pothold. But, we arrive at the English school, a school devoted to teaching English. As I exit the vehicle and pay the driver, I complain at the way the driver has taken advantage of me. He leaves quickly. I see why, the Papuan students, all in the early 20s, are angry at him for charging me so fiercely. Win, one of the teachers, takes me in hand and we walk around the compound. I am surprised to find 2 story dwelling with fireplaces. Win must leave because today the Indo gov't has decided to inspect the school-some sort of accreditation. Jerri joins me. Lunch is missed, as we are out, but a rabbit stew and rice make up an early dinner. A drink of papaya, pineapple and other fruits accompany the meal. This is a missionary compound, architecture gives it away. There is a conference center with around 43 small rooms, dining room and church. On the large meeting hall is a sign-Alpine Lodge. That made me laugh. As they are able, the students approach me and talk, practicing their English. My lodging is #20, bathroom attached since it is the last room in a 5 room series. The students spend most of the afternoon with chores and soccer. At 6:00, it cools off dramatically. The wind has picked up, the sound of bugs, children playing, and the crying of a child trying to keep up with his mother, fill the air. Singing seems to be everywhere. It comes up in solo or group. This is village life. I had forgotten the sounds and smells. I had also forgotten how dark the night can be. Clouds have swept in, lightning flashes in the sw, now in the nw. Seated on the porch, my feet in the rain ditch, I hear children singing and feel the first drops of rain. Waiting for Win to call me for dinner, dark as the inside of my eyelids, flashes of lightning, the contentment emerges.
It is morning. I am again seated outside my room on the porch, feet in the rain ditch. The air has a chill. Dogs bark, the smell of a fire, 3 boys walk by with their sleeves dangling. They have pulled their arms in against their chests, for warmth and enter Alpine Lodge. Exiting a few minutes later they are giggling and laughing. One carries a radio, another a speaker, and the other a blue covering. There is going to be a meeting someplace. One boy passes gas and the giggling intensifies. The giggles get too much for the boy with the blue covering and it falls to the ground. They continue, after it has been retrieved, and disappear around the edge of the long line of guest room. The day has begun.
Now, back in Wamena, I have a flight to Holuwon. I will be there for 2 weeks. No contact. No way of emailing or talking with anyone except in Yali or Indonesian. My dictionary will come in handy.
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1 comment:
Larry,
All those buildings were built by my dad. The conference facility was used every year by the missions communities to hold their annual meetings.
Margie
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