Reflections of Papua New Guinea, land of contrasts
The 24 police officers who will walk the Kokoda Track for charity will find the going tough but will be much richer for the experience. Papua New Guinea is like that.
I haven’t walked the Kokoda Track, but I’ve spent time in the north of PNG. It was the experience of a lifetime.
Arriving in Madang on the northern coast, you are struck by the beauty of this coastal paradise. It’s a scuba diver’s heaven, with many sunken wrecks, especially aircraft, remnants of World War II.
You’re also struck by the culture. A boat trip over to Kranket Island, specifically to go snorkelling, ends with you sitting on the wharf watching men, women and children fishing from outrigger canoes, silhouetted as the sun sets. The expensive chartered fishing boat anchored nearby looks well out of place.
That night, in the open-sided restaurant, cool sea breezes and a local island band complete a day in paradise.
Thoughts of a restful holiday come to an end the next day. The trip along the northern coast and inland was idyllic.
But then the walk to Salemben Village started. It was tough at the start, and it got tougher. Almost four hours of steep climbing let you know that you’re not as fit as you thought you were.
This evaluation is confirmed by the fact that 10-year-old Nelson is your guide. He’s helping carry the backpacks, and hardly draws a breath. You are panting for breath, asking for rest breaks more frequently. Nelson can only wonder!
In places the track narrows to less than a metre; on one side is impenetrable forest; on the other, a near vertical drop to a valley floor a hundred metres below. Never one for heights, you ask yourself if this is really a smart thing to do!
But any doubts end with arrival at Salemben. There is no electricity, no running water, and every hut is made from local natural materials. There’s a pit toilet, and you shower with the aid of a length of bamboo which gushes water tapped from a mountain spring.
The accommodation isn’t five-star, but who cares? This is a mountain paradise.
The next day you’re treated to an hour-long dance performance by men and women of the village. It’s good — so good that the Salemben people had recently won the big sing-sing at Mt Hagen in the Highlands.
I spent three days at Salemben, and despite the arduous trek up the mountain range, it was, as I said, the experience of a lifetime.
Of course, Papua New Guinea has many problems. Corruption is rife; there’s an AIDS epidemic on our doorstep; around every corner you expect to be confronted by Rascals who will steal all your belongings — they’ll even kill you if you resist.
There are natural dangers, too. On the walk down the mountain I went within centimetres of stepping on a death adder. With still two hours to walk and a 90-minute drive to the nearest hospital, at Madang, you think of the dire consequences if Ruth, the wife of your guide Moyang, had not spotted the snake.
You thank your lucky stars that she did.
Later, back home in comfortable Australia, the experiences wash over you. Again, you thank your lucky stars, this time for the fact that you’ve had the chance to experience this land of contrasts.
Those police officers will have similar experiences, but will be further enriched by trekking along a jungle track which holds a special place in our nation’s history.
I envy them.
