Hiking to Dimtikin

The pilot and the newly unstranded backpacker flew away . . .

. . . and we set to work, having finally arrived in the Setaman language area (or, so we thought . . . we're still not entirely sure which villages ought to be classified under which languages . . . give us a little more time to work on that!)

We got lots of good data that night, and some the next morning as well, before we set out on the first hike of the survey. People in the village told us that the hike usually takes them 2 or 3 hours, but that it would take us 5 or 6 hours. Fair enough. I have yet to meet a Papua New Guinean of any age who couldn't outhike me blindfolded. So we left around 9 am, figuring that would give us a good 6 hours and we could still arrive in the next village by midafternoon.

Six hours later

It had been a pretty tough six hours, constantly going up and down steep hills, crossing rivers, dealing with ankle deep mud and slippery roots . . . but when asked if we were getting close, the guys who had come with us to show us the way replied, "Nogat, em i longwe yet." (Which, if you haven't guessed, means, "No, it's still far away.") OK, well, it was still midafternoon . . . we had plenty of daylight left . . .

Three hours later

It was around 6 pm, and the sun would be setting in about half an hour. There was still no sign of a village, and on the rare occasions when our guides spoke there was an ominous absence of anything resembling, "We're almost there." As the sky darkened and the jungle insects began waking up and announcing their presence, I heard the last thing I wanted to hear: thunder. Thunderstorms are relatively rare in PNG, but I have noticed that thunder usually signals a torrential downpour in the very near future. This thunder didn't lie. Soon we were not only walking in absolute darkness, but also through pouring rain that made the ankle deep mud even deeper and the slippery roots even more treacherous. We stopped and got out our headlamps, which helped immensely, but our progress was even slower than before, now that we had to step by feel almost as much as by sight.

I really don't know how long we trudged on that way. It must have been a couple of hours, because I think it was around 8 pm when we finally arrived in Dimtikin village. As we approached the village, people came out to meet us with flashlights, and several guys grabbed our arms and helped us through the last few hundred meters. We were ushered into a large house with a toasty fire in the center, and given taro roasted in the coals, which I find delicious under any circumstances, but after an 11 hour hike it really is indescribably amazing.

Deeply thankful that we had arrived with all of our bones in tact, I changed into dry clothes and ventured out to find the outhouse, thinking what an adventurous day it had been. Little did I know that the day's adventures were not over . . . at least, not for me!