Will we get there??? (August 13th)

We’ve learned quickly that things do not always go as planned in PNG. On our itinerary, we only get some direction as to what will happen the next day the day before – the tour company can not really commit to anything with some certainty before that point.

Mumeri

When we flew into Karawari the other day and then when we went on to the Sepik all of the guides have repeated over and over again how low the waters have been. The Chambri Lakes, a vast lake network just south of the Sepik River, had essentially become walkable, with people hiking from village to village instead of taking canoes. The receding water is an annual occurrence but this year had been really dry. That all came to an end today.

The river rose several meters throughout the course of the day – at least 3 or 4. When we woke up, it was pouring. It let up for about an hour, enough time for us to visit Mindimbit, a famed carving village on the the junction of the Sepik and the Krosmeri Rivers. The men put on a carving demonstration to show how they produce their works. I was extremely interested as the son of a carver myself. They had a beautiful Garamut drum that was almost identical to one I saw at Karawari Lodge that I had wanted earlier but we had already purchased so many large items that the shipping costs were really adding up – maybe Jen was right to have denied me the earlier drum after all.

In the afternoon we sailed down the Krosmeri and then got on the jetboat to go to Mumeri. This was actually our guide, Joe’s, village and he was very proud to take us. He showed us his large and beautiful village home (being a guide is obviously a great job) and walked us through his town. Joe is a master carver himself and you could tell – his work was much better than the other carvers. Mumeri is famed for its flutes so we picked up all of the beautiful flutes that Joe had produced. That was going to about do it for the shopping.

Shopping!

The villagers were meant to perform a flute dance, but an old man had passed away in the village the day before and the villagers were in mourning. There would be no dance, but as we finished walking through the center of town and perusing the wares, the skies opened up again and in dramatic fashion. Like fools we decided nonetheless to take the full tour through the village. It was only a 20 minute walk or so but we were absolutely drenched. Beautiful village, but the rain was really something.

Crocodile farming

It rained like that for the next several hours. The flood waters were really quite strong and the boat has to go against them to get us to the airstrip to take us to Mt. Hagen tomorrow. The Sepik Spirit crew, dedicated and hard working as they are, are planning to stay up all night to get us there. Let’s see how that goes. By where we are now, it is possible, but I pity the crew. It is already pitch black out and they are having to go out every few minutes to clean debris out of the rutter as it gathers from the oncoming floods. To clean out this debris, they need to bang loudly on the ship to scare away crocodiles before they dive in to remove the branches, etc. Can you imagine? All of this and the head helmsman is sick with the malaria! What! They really do aim to provide the absolute best service.

To make matters worse, there was some genuine fear that the flood waters could reach the airstrip itself, trapping us on the river. A memorable exchange:

Jen: Hey, Mary Jane (our escort), how likely do you think it is that the runway could flood before we reach it?

 

Mary Jane: (Uncomfortably long pause) Uh, not very likely. (She says in a tone that is not very convincing.)

So, off to bed to the sound of the engines and debris hitting the underside of the boat.  I’m curious to see how far up the river we get before morning.

The Sepik has been a remarkable experience. The art has been everything it was purported to be, the spirit houses and local traditions have been as alive and vibrant as advertised and the romance of the cruise down one of the world’s legendary rivers has been amazing. All of this in this fascinating PNG setting – I learned today that not long ago a “payback” was almost wrought on one of the staff of the Sepik Spirit in front of guests as they were walking off the airstrip in Timbunke. The very capable and now initiated captain, John, was able to diffuse the situation, but what an event that must have been. One can never forget where you are in PNG. 

Spirit houses and shopping

Today was what Ms. Cupcake and I had come for. We visited three of the villages along the Sepik – Palembei, Yetchen and Kanganaman. Each of the three is famed for its renowned artisans and carvers and each of Palembei and Kanganaman have beautiful spirit houses.

Carved totem poles.

In order to understand just how isolated and infrequently visited these places are by outsiders, it is important, I think, to give some perspective on the size of ongoing western influence in the area. It was a battleground area in WW2 and therefore each of the Australians and the Japanese had set up camps in different villages along the river. Palembei, for example, was inhabited by the Japanese. Since the end of WW2, however, influence has been slight. The total middle Sepik region may see 300 – 400 tourists a year, and those will only visit certain villages in the region. So, breaking it down, a village might see about 100-150 outsiders in an entire year. The influence is slight and thus despite having largely moved to western dress, the ceremonies, initiations and traditions continue to survive and thrive in the area.

Remains of the bombed spirit house

Palembei had two spirit houses. The first was bombed by the Japanese during WW2 and only the large, beautifully carved poles remained. The clan then split the spirit houses to represent each of the two large clans in the village. The carvings were beautiful and the legends and histories powerful. The first had two large links of knots hanging from the ceiling – like what you would put together to count the days until Christmas. There were more than 100 of them. These links each represented a “trophy” taken during the headhunting days.

Ceremonial flutes being stored on the spirit house

It turns out headhunting was even more prevalent than you ever would have thought. Why? Well, because it wasn’t really viewed as war, but instead essentially as a sport.  Each village had its team of warriors who were responsible for raiding the other villages and taking heads. Each head was a trophy that represented a knot in the links, and, formerly, an addition to the collection of decorated skills (those are now gone). At the end of each headhunting season (it was only for a few months a year), tallies were taken and the village with the most was the “champion”, e.g. the strongest and most powerful village in the Sepik area. Pretty incredible stuff.

Palembei’s spirit houses were beautiful, but Kanganaman was beyond description. We entered the village to the sound of the beating Garamut drum eerily passing over the trees. As we got closer, you saw two men dancing inside of huge woven masks around an extremely large spirit house (it was easily double the size of the other ones). The oldest spirit house along the Sepik, the building was massive and in the open lawn with the blood stones before it, the figures dancing to the Garamut drum was otherworldly. The whole experience was breathtaking.

Yetchen was a much smaller village, but one famous for its crocodile dance and beautiful woven masks. Clearly the two go together. Along with the beating Garamut drums, a team of dancers, two of them wearing massive crocodile costumes came dancing out of the spirit house. The crocodile men bobbed back and forth , with the oven crocodile jaw opening each time they moved. It was a hilarious. The funniest part, though, was when the elder was explaining the dance at the end. We were commenting on how beautiful the masks were and he abruptly complained that the young men had not been able to properly decorate the masks with the right leaves due to the earlier flooding and thus the masks were essentially subpar. We certainly did not notice.

We picked up carved artifacts in each village. What we really wanted to take home, of course, was the relic totem poles from the old spirit houses, but clearly that wasn’t possible. Weighing hundreds of pounds, God knows what that shipping cost would have been. That said, we’ve bought some very large masks, ceremonial bowls, food hooks, maselei’s and other fun items. The carvings are so detailed and beautiful – I am sure my Dad the furniture maker will pick up some interesting tips.

Flying foxes

The Sepik is quite a place. Every village is populated with its carved initiated men who run the show and each is enchanted by the powers of its ancestors. This comes through as the Garamet drums are struck and you feel like you are walking through a place that hasn’t really been touched in centuries. This is why we came to PNG and we are very glad that we did. 

First Day on the Sepik (Aug 11th)

View of the Sepik.

I got to fly a plane today! Ok, no, not really, but I did get to sit in the co-pilot’s seat. It was awesome! Ms. Cupcake doesn’t like flying, so this opportunity was all mine. Flying from grass airstrip in Karawari to grass airstrip in Timbunke, along the Sepik, it was only about a 12 minute flight, but it was a really cool experience. I am not into gadgets, but seeing all the different devices and gages, etc. got me pretty into flying.

When we touched down we had to wait for the other flight to come back with our bags and in the meantime explored the mission at Timbunke. PNG continues to amaze. The mission church was actually built in the style of one of the spirit houses and the inside contained spirit house columns, but with carved saints instead of ancestral figures. The alter and lecturn were both also carved in a similar manner. Our guide, who is Catholic and attends that church, said that hymns are sung with kudu drums and in a sing-sing fashion. The people of PNG are indelibly tied to their cultures.

The Sepik River is home to the Iatmul tribe and the crocodile cults. When it is time to become a man, boys are “initiated” through a month long process living in a spirit house. Imagine pledging a frat, but much, much more serious and, frankly, scary. At the end, ritual “scarification” is done. The figures of abstract crocodiles are carved into the boy’s (now men’s) chest and backs with knives or razorblades. The bleeding out is meant to represent releasing the “women’s blood” from your body and the new blood that regenerates is that of a true man or a warrior. 

Inside of a "man's house"

Men that have been initiated.

We asked if boys ever die during the ceremonies – they said only if the spirits know that some family members are not supportive of the initiation. Women play highly subservient and secondary roles in this society and are not even allowed into the spirit houses. Our white captain of the ship we are on now actually decided to partake in full initiation into the Yoakim tribe along the Karawari river. He showed us his scarification and explained some of what he went through and his motives for doing so. It is all pretty intense. He is undoubtedly one of the first white men to ever do it.

Debating in the man's house

In the largest village along the Sepik, Tambanum, we had the opportunity to walk into a Man’s House – one level of initiation down from a Spirit House, but otherwise nearly identical. There was actually a debate taking place when we walked in. Men, wearing cast away western clothes, were using their orator’s stool (imagine a beautifully carved side table) and standing alongside it, banging the palm fronds, as is tradition when you are speaking in a debate. They stopped the debate for a few minutes so we could look around, but seeing the village elder making his points was a unique experience. There were no women or children present. Once we finished with the spirit house we had the chance to look through the beautiful carvings the villages had made. Each village has a distinct style so we took full advantage.

Cruising along in our air conditioned (thank God) ship is just beautiful and I am really pumped for the next couple of days out on the river. 

Sunset over the Sepik

The Sepik Spirit, our home for three days