Back to the past. Инна Витальевна Метельская-Шереметьева

many Jayapura families this means a week’s or even a month’s salary.

      Before going deep into the jungle of Irian Jaya, I would like to keep you a little longer in the state capital so you could better feel the local flavour of New Guinea, fully enjoy the sunsets on the most beautiful island of Sentani and visit a small uninhabited island where we were taken by the local fishermen who took pleasure in taking us there in spite of their surprise at our request. Let me explain the latter: the local population is not very spoiled by the tourists’ attention, so any request, even such a common one as to show someone around, elicits enthusiasm and delight.

      Due to the capital status of the town, its 150 thousand residents have a few of their own factories, plants, some hotels and restaurants, and even their own local university. Two more touching features of Jayapura are the number of family temples per person and the total love among Jayapurians for chess. And if the latter can in no way be explained (they are unlikely to have read something about our Vasyuki and like Ostap Bender dreamed of turning their native town into the world chess capital), the family religious houses are probably the result of many missionaries’ preaching. We have seen Catholic chapels (we don’t even know what they should be called in fact), Buddhist temples as well as Muslim mosques. They all look approximately the same – a small construction of wood, palm-tree leaves, and cardboard and asbestos sheeting, generously decorated with drawings on various religious topics and located right in the house’s yard. There are very well-taken care of flower beds and sculptures of certain gods in front of these small buildings, as well as some tape-recorder speakers whose loud music informs the locals and tourists that the temple is open. A special box for donations is nearby too. This is how it goes: go into the place, say your prayers, listen to some music, leave a donation and go on your way. It looks like the missionaries have failed to explain to the locals that religion is not another way to make money but something very different. But, anyway, decade by decade the missionary reports stated the steadily increasing number of established parishes and converted people. As for Jayapurians, they started seeing new temples as a given. We have them now – it’s good. They make us feel good – it’s even better. That said, their attitude towards life and God (the gods) is much more understandable than the rabid fanaticism of some faiths.

      To the east of Jayapura by the coast of Yos Sudarso Bay there is Yotefa National Park with lots of beautiful beaches where you can see several shipwrecks, the result of past naval battles. A little further to the east along the bay coast there is a village of the Sepik tribe, famous for their primitive drawings on tree bark and carved ancestral statues. By the way, it was this tribe’s fishermen who showed us one of the few islands left untouched by civilization, though it didn’t go without an amusing incident. The matter was, in the past we had been so spoiled by the intrusive and usual tourist services that we completely forgot about such simple things as food supplies. I am sure you will agree that it’s only normal when during “arranged” tours which last for at least half a day you are provided with a primitive lunch box – with an egg and some chicken fried rice. Do you remember that? We counted on that unsophisticated service as well… Here, upon seeing us approaching the boats empty-handed, the locals were really frightened: “What? Haven’t you bought any food? But there is nothing on the island. Absolutely nothing! And it’s not a good time to fish…” Our irresponsible answer that we should make it somehow without food for ten hours caused some slight confusion. Such light-mindedness is totally intolerable for men of the Sepik tribe, so it’s not surprising that all those hours that we spent on the island being lazy and enjoying the luxury, our fellow travelers spent trying to catch at least something. And the fact that our cameraman followed the fishermen’s every step with his camera served as a kind of excuse for our behavior in their eyes, especially because neither they nor us were able to catch any fish, a sea-serpent or a crab, though we truly enjoyed splashing in the clear waters of the warm ocean. Later, these moments proved to be the last minutes of such total relaxation before a rather difficult and uneasy trip into the jungle.

      On our way back we dropped into Cendrawasih University, which has a great anthropology museum. Though our main idea was not only to see the exhibits, but to try and acquire some topographical maps of where our expedition was heading and speak to some of the workers. Unfortunately, we managed practically none of it, but we were able to see the collection of Asmat tribe artifacts. The collection was acquired thanks to a subsidy from the John D. Rockefeller Fund. The figures and weapons exhibited, made by this tribe’s craftsmen, are highly regarded by primitive art specialists. Even though the Asmat tribe lives on the southern coast of New Guinea, there is a shop in Jayapira, specialising in Asmatic handcraft.

      Excursus One. How to Remain Friends. Alexey’s Story.

      Any serious journey is not only a holiday but a rather difficult job too. In our everyday city life we get used to a certain tempo, loads of duties and even stress. In the jungle, desert, savanna or tundra – everything is different. Another tempo, other stresses, a load turns into an overload. This is why the atmosphere in the team is vitally important. Like Vysotsky’s song goes: “If your friend suddenly turned out to…” You know the end of the song.

      In my opinion, in our quadriga galloping around the dark corners of the planet there are no wheels or off-wheelers. It may even be good. We do not have a leader the same way we don’t have those who would drag in a bunch of others as unnecessary ballast. The ability to co-exist peacefully and interact as a team is the main skill we have learned though our years of travel. This is not an exaggeration or trivial words. Anyone who goes on a serious trip should definitely remember that his travelling experience, the after-taste, so to put it, to a large extent will depend on the atmosphere within the team.

      There are four of us. And we are all different. Among us Michael is the most reckless, the most sincere and… the most contact-ready, if I can say it this way. This skill of his and his preparedness to socialise with people is a very important trait, because those representatives of the native population we will have to meet should immediately realise that we have friendly intentions, won’t harm them and, even more so, see them as our equals. The distant feeling of a common tourist who will be paying money to see ‘a true caveman’ in many situations can end sadly. Michael totally lacks this “civilization snobism”. Thanks to his integral personality and a natural sense of dignity he is absolutely open, cordial and friendly.

      At the same time, I strongly believe that Andrey very often gives us an example of a very patient, reserved, and very masculine attitude towards life. He rarely makes a fuss about anything (unless someone probably needs urgent help but nobody knows what to do). He never complains. And even though Andrey smiles little, natives trust him right away and very carefully watch his reactions: Is he pleased with everything? It is Andrey, as a rule, who has the last say in our team, though he never insists on it.

      It seems to me I complement Michael and Andrey in a certain way. I try to be careful and calm and not to be a burden. Sometimes someone has to be the first to honestly say that he is tired, out of breath, to be able to notice this in himself in order to free his friends from being heroes all the time. It is a difficult task but somebody has to do it and say: “Stop! Rest!” By the way, I didn’t get these skills right away. I remember being quite nervous in the jungle during our first trip. It seemed to me for some reason that being a refined Muscovite intellectual, I wasn’t able to take any drastic actions or exhibit self-determination. It all ended badly. I wanted to look like everybody else so much, to conform, so to put it, that I missed a wound that resulted in inflammation on my leg. I was lucky that the disease had already started on the way back to Wamena. Otherwise, I can only imagine how much my friends would have suffered in the jungle with such a “brave” victim: fever, weakness, terrible swelling. Keeping my mouth shut would have ended in them carrying me out of a Papuan village literally in their arms. One can only guess who would have felt worse in this situation.

      By the way, I wasn’t supposed to go on that last trip with the rest of my friends at all. It happened that my work, problems in Moscow, and the forthcoming New Year made my participation practically impossible. But they say, desire has no rest, even though I was trying to do my best up to the last moment… When I came to Sheremetyevo airport to see my friends off, I realised that I just couldn’t leave them alone, that I was fully responsible for them, an inexplicable, totally irrational feeling. Responsible