Travels in New Guinea

Papua New Guineans call their country the "Land of the Unexpected." I never would have thought eight days ago, when a tropical storm ended our hopes of paddling to Kaminabit, that we would relaunch our canoeing expedition for a third time. But here we are, Nadya with a short paddle, me with a long one, digging into the muddy, brown river, bound for Angoram, largest and last significant village on the Lower Sepik. Our company for the final three-day leg of our voyage is Cyril Tara, an exuberant tour guide; Nick Lumat, wood carver and Seventh-Day Adventist; and Chris Tupma, carpenter and canoe maker. Cyril's canoe is a fine specimen: no leaks and plenty of room for four people, their bags, three plump papayas, a plastic bin of mugs and plates, even two wicker chairs with backs and armrests. With a 45 HP outboard engine weighing down the stern, the paddling will be as hard as before, but Nadya and I have n ever had it so good. For the first time, I can stand up in a single...

"This is my cousin-sister" Mathilda says waving at a woman in her canoe. "We sit next to each other at the market". As we cross the lake, we greet more than a dozen other 'market mothers' from Korogu. Our host, Mathilda, is one of them and has her bag of fish to exchange with women from the inland villages of Selai, Aulimbit, Kosingbi, and Yamuk. If she is lucky, she will sell some and make a small profit. The barter system is well established in Korogu, explains Mathilda. "First we need to buy betel nut and look at the garden food". For a good hour, not much seems to be happening. Market mothers from inland continue to arrive and display the garden food items. The women carrying fish sit in their respective areas but don't display their fish yet. People with money in their hands buy betel, sago, vegetables and fruits. Suddenly, as if someone had rung a bell, women display their fresh and dried fish. A few people buy some and then the barte...

"It's no good, Tony. Water's coming in again at the front. I have to stop and bail." "Can't stop here! Waves are too big. Let's try going faster, get over to the far bank where the water's calmer." "No. NO! Stop paddling! STOP! It's coming in over the side now." "Shit. SHIT! Knew in Pagwi the waterline was too low. Can't even carry our bags on this frigging thing!" Nadya tosses her paddle aside and starts bailing feverishly with half a plastic Coca-Cola bottle, but it is too late. If only our pirogues were equal to those we bought in the Upper Sepik. Roped together, the two had formed a sturdy raft that could carry six people with bags, bananas, and coconuts. But in Pagwi, the hub of the Middle Sepik, there had been no choice. Most people got about by motor-canoe. We could only find for sale a two-man fishing pirogue in poor shape and another suitable for a five-year-old. Maybe if we joined these, we might cont...