To Ononge in 8 days

TREKKING

By PAUL MINGA
IN mid-June, I took on a trekking adventure to the Goilala mountains with two friends and guides whom I shall introduce only as John and Joseph.
For me this was going to be a sight-seeing adventure while my two Fanima friends were natives of the area. They  decided to leave behind their second home of Toroburro and Emu Rice near  Vanapa Bridge along the Hiritano Highway and pay a visit to their place of birth – Omalle village.
We agreed to travel the bush track to Omalle as soon as we have made all necessary preparations including trekking gear and rations. Apart from that we needed to bring along other tools and necessities that we would be using at Omalle during our stay and also small gifts to share with the locals in exchange for their hospitality.
On June 15 at around 3pm we flagged down a blue Hyundai PMV truck that was on its way to Kuriva from town along the Hiritano Highway at Emu Rice.
Since it was late and the PMV was making its final run for the day we promised the crew and driver that we would be paying them K50 if they dropped us off at Kania campsite as their last lot of passengers for the day. They agreed as K50 seemed a lot of money for quite a short ride.
We were dropped off at Kania and spent the night at the camp set up by Goilala MP and Minister for Transport and Infrastructure William Samb. From Emu Rice two other boys who also accompanied us and we got on the PMV together for Kania as a team of five.
At the campsite in the night we found out that there were about five other boys and a young girl also geared up for the trek the next day. I counted heads and there were 11 of us. Before we set out for the walk in the morning the next day, Joseph broke open our Em Nau biscuit carton containing 40 packets and gave me 14 packets while he and John got 13 each.
We then set off.
I walked for about half a kilometer and took off my long pair of black jeans that l had on every time in the city to hide my skinny legs and continued the walk in a cut tracksuit. We climbed steep mountain ranges and walked down gullies and finally made a stop at the top of a mountain and the local Fanima boys felt that we needed to stop and set up camp for the night. I saw that they were cooperating really well in getting the different tasks done with some working on setting up the camp house while others were chopping up firewood.
A young girl and two much younger boys in our trekking party showed no sign of tiredness and volunteered to walk down a deep gulley with empty containers to fetch water for us to cook and for drinking.
We spent the second night at Kania mountain and continued the walk the second day until we stopped at a cave near Opa Creek for a third night’s rest. At that cave campsite we met a young mother with her baby who was accompanied by about five other young girls and two boys.
They were walking to Port Moresby and were happy when we met up with each other. They were pleased when we kept them company and shared some of the items we brought such as rice, noodles, juice, tinned fish, cigarettes, betel nuts and biscuits. In return they shared with us kaukau and taro which they brought along to cook and eat along the track.
The next day, we broke camp early in the morning mist and headed in opposite directions. As the only foreigner in my group, I was wondering if we were near to the home of my friends and hoping to hear from them if we were almost there.
l didn’t hear any such information which was a sign that we were still a long way off and l nearly thought of giving up hope as my legs were beginning to ache after the third day of trekking.
Nothing seemed to change in the landscape; there was climbing up steep mountains and descending into valleys for mile upon mile.
Late into afternoon of the third day, we quickly set up camp at Yangel on the bank the Vanapa River for a fourth night’s rest. We decamped the next day and continued the walk crisscrossing Vanapa River for a few kilometers and then ascended mountains and descended deep gullies as we had done the previous days.
When we reached a clearing, one of my Fanima friends pointed out to me in the far distance the different villages our trekking party members were from. When l took in the view and the horizon l calculated that the remaining distance was like going from Mt Hagen to Kundiawa.
When l was showed how far we still had yet to walk l felt like collapsing but braved myself as my friends would be mocking me if l broke down or shed tears. I cursed my two friends silently for not being honest about the distance and the landscape of their place.
We then came to a place that has many okari nut trees growing.
As it was a peak season of the nut, there were bountiful ripened nuts on the forest floor so we put down all our load and collected the nuts.
To me, a typical highlander it was my very first time to sight these huge nut trees growing wild among other native trees.
When l see people selling these sweet nuts I at first thought coastal people grew the nut trees near their homes just like mango, guava or avocado trees. But trekking through the forest of the Fanimas l discovered that the nuts were collected from a wild tree species and not from trees grown near villages.
I was bewildered by strong shell casing of okari nuts. However hard I tried to break open the nut with an axe against a log or a tree root I couldn’t crack it open. But the local boys broke open the strong shell easily without much trouble. After having a good feast of the nuts we walked about a kilometer and finally came up to a trekkers’ overnight rest house and stopped for the fifth night.
The young girl in our party put down her load and gathered the empty water containers, put them in an empty bag and quickly rushed down the deep galley to fetch water. My heart went to the girl who didn’t show any tiredness from the arduous walk. l realised that we were about to cook up the last supply of rice and noodles. The biscuit supplies were already depleted during the four days and we had only few packets remaining in our bags.
There may have been a garden nearby so the local boys harvested a bunch of bananas and we cooked it while the girl brought in a large bundle of aibika.
The fifth day’s walk took us finally to the Vanapa River cane bridge crossing.
When we put down our bags to rest and do laundry on one side of the river, I glanced at the cane bridge that hung so high up with the Vanapa River thundering underneath gushing and splashing wildly on giant rock walls on both sides of the river. Wow! What a place l had decided to explore as l was thinking to myself with fear as l notice danger ahead. I knew if l slipped off the cane bridge it would be the end of me.
l was told to put down my bag and cross empty handed. An aide helped in carrying my bag over after l had crossed the bridge with extra care. We then continued the walk for the remaining part of distance like from Mt Hagen to Kundiawa. This time we came to an inhabited part of the land and we could walk no more and decided to overnight.
I was happy this time we were to sleep inside a more decent house rather than makeshifts and tents we slept under in the last four nights in open air. The owner of the place and his family welcomed us. Conversation started in the Fanima dialect for the trekking party members and the family. It was already evening so we were told to leave our bags on the varandah and get in to rest our tired bodies.
A while later the wife of the house owner brought in a huge bundle of sugar cane into the house and that put on smile on the face of every one of us. After l had the first piece of sugar cane l went over to my bag, took out my last packet of biscuits and gave to one of kids of the family as a reward of his parents’ kind gesture and would-be accommodation. I also took out a bar of soap and gave it to the kid’s mum.
The family prepared the evening meal for us and we spent the sixth night at their place and continued the walk the next day. It would be our seventh day of trekking. l looked in the direction of remaining distance and calculated it to be as the same as the distance from Kerowagi and Kundiawa town on the Highlands Highway.
I could walk no more but l had to force myself at all costs as our destination was still tens of kilometers away. No choice, we walked the seventh day until we reached the Enande elementary school and Catholic church. We were welcomed with a meal by one of my friends’ relatives and her husband.
The couple urged us to overnight and continue on the journey in the morning so we agreed to spend the seventh night with them. In the night l felt shy because the couple and the next door neighbours brought us foodstuff. In a show of appreciation I gave away a spare shirt to the husband and a woolly jumper to an old woman.
As soon as the old woman grasped the jumper a small boy who was sitting near me and the old woman also put his hand out in clinging onto a part of the jumper and started to cry in mumbling and saying, ma let me have it, or something like that.
A while later a young girl also pleaded with the old woman to give her the jumper but she refused. What l witnessed made me shed tears and I gave away my other spare shirt to the girl.
The seventh night was spent at that locality of Enande village and we started our eighth day walk in the morning and arrived at last at a hamlet under the cool and snowy Mt Wasa at Homalle for the eighth night rest. From there l felt relieved as l was assured by John and Joseph that our final destination was within Homalle and a few kilometers away which can be reached in the morning within an hour.
That relieving message was what I was anticipating after only the second or third day of the walk.
I whispered a thank you to myself.

Next week: Flying out of Ononge with a heavy heart

• Paul Minga is a freelance writer.