Exploring the untouched rain forests of Irian Jaya
Exploring the untouched rain forests of Irian Jaya
By Andy Barski
TIMIKA, Irian Jaya (JP): We were exploring the "Land of The
Giants". Privileged guests in another world, our senses were
tested at every turn. From viscous jungle-gangs of red "rebel"
ants to majestic hornbills, whose quick-flip-wings create such a
sudden downdraft, that its other worldly sound sent electric
shivers through us. (You know, like those old science fiction
movies where a beam comes down from above. Goes vumpf and the
person disappears. Well, kind of like that). In this primeval
jungle we were out of our element. Dealing with the unknown. We
were scared.
We were exploring the world's second largest island, vast
tracts of virgin rain forests, massive mountains. It could well
have been the dawn of time, in the belly of the bird. Where
mighty forces have been creating life since forever and beyond.
Our arrival was but a brief moment in the jungle's long history.
We were out there. In the middle of it all. Exploring some of
the 300 or so hectare gardens of Sheraton Timika. I can't think
of anywhere that can boast a backyard like this one! It stretches
out to touch from the hotel's stilted cottages and raised
walkways to the other side of the island. Virgin. No limits. Just
wild!
We were advised to stick to the makeshift trails (like "real"
explorers), not because we weren't good at "exploring" but
because the jungle has this tendency to make itself look the same
in every direction. Especially without a guide to help you along
the way.
We stood at the edge of darkness, (near a trail, of course),
looking into a riotous celebration of life and energy so dense
yet so fragile, and we paused, waiting for a sign. Birds hollered
and crickets shrieked. The sudden intensity of sound was chaotic
verging on insane. And then, right on cue, adorned in the most
luxurious colors of blue, fluttered an enormous butterfly. It
stopped, caught our attention and flew off into the jungle.
We followed, surrounded by massive trees which were so very
old and stretching to the sky, enjoying the opulence of the
jungle's upper canopy. Leaves floated down slowly (we're talking
big trees), finally adding to the layer upon layer of fertile,
spongy compost from which everything in the jungle springs. Giant
ferns and stunning blooms. And so many butterflies, so full of
color that our heads were spinning with the beauty. And the
noise.
Flocks of parrots and parakeets flying from tree to tree
causing havoc. Like naughty schoolboys. Crickets humming an
electric symphony that reached a deafening crescendo and then
immediately died, leaving our ears ringing with the sounds of
silence, and then they started again. First one and then a
million.
This was wild. At first we walked at a city pace. You know the
scene; go there, get here, been there, done that, what's next?
Rush, rush, rush. But the oppressive heat and humidity soon made
that an exhausting experience. That and the realization that we
didn't have anywhere to go. We were just looking.
It was the hornbill, though, that slowed us right down. We
were following a small, shallow stream that was slowly carving a
tunnel through the trees, when there was a short, sharp electric
sound that seemed to come from everywhere. It was startling. We
suddenly became very alert, tingling with fear and our adrenaline
surging. We froze. As we frantically looked around for the source
of this alien sound, panic images of wild jungle creatures ("all
looking for us and all ready to tear us apart", Mr. Paranoid
said), kept rushing to mind. Then we heard it again. This time
closer and louder. Looking up, we saw it, a beautiful yellow-
headed hornbill. Huge black wings flicking hard, one, pause...,
two, pause...,three, pause..., and heading for the nearest fig
tree-feast.
It was definitely time to slow things down and get in tune
with the rhythm of the jungle. We started to pay more attention
to our immediate surroundings and stumbled across an enormous
diversity of life. We could feel the life force of this mighty,
heaving organism, and became aware of its relationships and how
everything in it depended on everything around it. As people we
were small-fry, but still a part of the whole nevertheless. Our
footsteps became exaggerated. Longer, softer and more deliberate.
We weren't looking for anything in particular, we just wanted to
be there.
Suddenly the temperature dropped and the upper canopy bowed
under the first winds of a forthcoming storm. The rain thrashing
on the large leaves of the upper canopy gave a warning of what we
could expect. Violent rain had begun to fall not far off. Leaves
dropped and branches crashed, and the trees came alive with
movement. The skies above opened with mighty cracks. Wild winds
swirled and electricity charged the air. Visibility went down to
the nearest tree and it got very, very wet, very, very quickly.
Nothing prepares you for this. The power is awesome, and when
its over the jungle sighs with relief and glows in appreciation.
Reborn and somehow more alive than before. Being inside these
wet, warm lungs of the world we were energized. Our noses full
and our lips wet with the smell of invigorated earth and the
taste of freshness.
After this, our first rain storm in Irian, we stumbled out of
the jungle and back to the hotel bar. Wet, dirty, wide-eyed, rosy
cheeked and high. We were addicted; full-blown jungle-junkies!