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!