Richard Writes:
The canoe docked neatly on the bank, and Brad and I skipped ashore. Our companion, a middle-aged man of few words, looked at us with a paternal pride and handed Brad the ax. I must confess it wasn’t entirely obvious why we had an ax. I knew this was a hunting trip, but I hadn’t previously considered an ax to be a particularly deft weapon, certainly not light enough for the delicate practice of hunting in the jungle. Brad grinned at me, and his eyes lit up.
“Wouldn’t it be cool if we were going for gator?”
“How would you kill an alligator with an ax?”
“Easy. Just smack him in the head.”
In the end this turned out to be a purely academic discussion. Our guide explained that our prey was in fact considerably smaller than an alligator, and could be found nestling in the soft pulp of rotten trees. I’m not sure what scientific name the large maggot-like creatures go by, but "grub" seems to fit the bill perfectly.
A grub is about the size of a grown man’s thumb, and consists of a fleshy body with a hard pea-sized head from which miniature pincers protrude. Aesthetically at least, they are truly horrendous, and one of the strangest things I’ve ever been asked to collect. In all honesty Brad and I made heavy work of the process. We’d been sent off into the jungle with a large bag, with optimistic instructions that we bring it back teeming with the fattest grubs we could find. Having found the perfect log, soggy and rotten to the core, we started chopping away, but before long we’d broken the ax in two and resorted to levering the thing open with a fallen branch. After much toil and sweat, the rotting wood ripped apart from itself and lay neatly halved on the jungle floor. Dotted along the log, grubs poked out half-submerged, some with heads snapping curiously at the unwelcome air. We seized them greedily, plucking each one like a cork from a wine bottle. They wriggled in our hands and tried to bite us, but it was a shamefully one-sided encounter and they never stood a chance. Into the bag they went, one by one, until the log seemed to contain nothing more. We hadn’t collected as many as we’d hoped, but the lining of the bag now rippled of its own accord, which had to be a good sign.
As it was, our guide looked satisfied when we showed him the spoils. So satisfied in fact, that he picked one of the little fellows right out of the bag and bit into it with a loud crunch. After gulping it down, he offered the bag to us. I’d spent the last few days eating nothing but bat, and had long suggested to Brad that any change to the diet would be a welcome one. I could therefore hardly refuse when faced with a grub. It pulsated in my hand, trying to bite my fingers, and its movement was strangely mesmerizing. It’s never polite to play with your food, however; so in one quick movement I popped it into my mouth, where it wriggled for a moment in a last show of defiance. Then, with a swift crunch of my teeth and a hasty swallow, the aperitif was over. I thought I’d kept my composure, but given how hard Brad was laughing, I daresay my expression had given me away once again …
Mark Writes:
Day 1
My host greeted me, his name was Noah. A gentle guy about 5’6” tall with dreadlock-style hair, he shows me to his house, a wooden hut on stilts -- no segregated rooms and very, very basic. There are 10 people staying under the same roof, including both of Noah’s wives and his kids. He speaks basic English and sits me down. Then he says, “I am very honored to have you stay here. I want you to be like my son, so from now on your name will be 'Awi' after my father.”
This was the most touching and genuine greeting I have had so far!
Day 2
I woke up having had not a lot of sleep -- the rickety bamboo floor has left bruises over me bony hips. I get served breakfast, a strange, dark, tough meat with potato and soup.
The heat here is something I haven’t experienced yet, 95 percent humidity and temps over 34 degrees C (93 degrees F). We felt very claustrophobic. We were thrown straight into events, starting with machete training. Demonstrations of what to do and what not to do left me sweating buckets within seconds. I was just left wondering why we needed machete training?
Later that afternoon we were introduced to our sport; it was canoe racing but with a twist ... Rather than sitting down, we had to stand up and balance in a very slim canoe, which is a lot harder than it looked. The river currents seemed to be very fast as we were watching the branches flow above and below the water in the currents. So, when they told us that the race was over two days, 7 kilometers (4 miles) upstream on Day 1 and 14 kilometers (9 miles) downstream on Day 2, we were overwhelmed with the challenge that lay ahead.
It was our chance to have a tester session in the canoe and, oh my word, what a disaster! All six of us suffered miserably as we were practicing falling in more than paddling a canoe, and the scary thing is that the river is infested with crocodiles.
Day 3
OK, so fresh coconut juice is one of the things that I haven’t got used to over the past year doing this traveling -- it totally gives you a bad case of the runs, but for some reason my hosts keep insisting on giving me a coconut every mealtime. So far I have been cunning enough to pass it onto the guys to share around, but I know that will wear thin soon, especially when they get their coconuts. I must think of a new way now as in this case honesty is certainly not the best policy.
There were two canoe practices scheduled for today and the first one seemed a bit of a success for me. I was able to stand up and actually paddle be it only for about five minutes without falling in, but some of us are certainly getting the hang of it. Having spent a few hours in the water it was time to do the coconut passing ritual and then straight back into the water for afternoon practice. I am still receiving that strange brown meat at mealtimes, which seems to me to look like chicken but know that it can’t be.
Afternoon canoe practice was a disaster! For some reason, after an hour’s lunch, I forgot everything I had learned previously. It was basically a swimming session against current. I never knew getting back into a canoe could be so difficult but everyone else can do it -- Ggggggrrrrrrr. Seeing everyone else doing well meant I was getting frustrated with myself, so I decided to call it a day and go and sit in my hut with my host. A storm was coming and within an hour it had hit us. By my bed I had a window at floor level, so I could just sit there and look out over the river and watch the storm approach. Noah, my host, decided to join me and it was one of those bonding moments. We talked about our lives as the storm got bigger and before long the sun had disappeared, leaving flashes of lightning to guide the villagers back to their huts in the torrential rain. What an incredible sight. I wish you could all experience it with me.
Day 4
It was time to prove ourselves as men to the village. I was now about to find out what the machete training was for. We were each issued a pen knife, machete, lighter and mosquito net, and as we all had our jungle boots on were sent into a boat to head upstream with a few of the locals. By now we had realized that we were going to be spending a night somewhere, but had no idea where. The boat slows down and heads for a small gap in the undergrowth at the river's side. The rain forest here is dense with no sign of a living soul, and we get out the boat and follow the locals as they clear a path for us deep into the jungle. We hit a clearing and are told to watch and learn; the locals are teaching us how to build a shelter out of sticks and leaves. I didn’t find building a shelter between the six of us too daunting. We have intelligence and now a lot of travel experience, so the spanner [wrench] was thrown into the works when we were told we had to go out and do it alone. Out here there is everything bad for you that you can think of, i.e., dangerous snakes, spiders, crocodiles, ants, bees and anything else you can think of for that matter, not to mention that we had only three hours of daylight left to do it in. It’s incredible how disorientating the jungle is, a sea of green looking the same in every direction. It’s so alive! In the corner of your eye you constantly see things moving. We were each told to go to separate areas of the jungle so that we could not rely on each other, and when our hut was built we had to return to the tiny clearing to meet one of the elders. I have to admit it was exciting to know that I would be doing this, but at the same time I was worried that if I didn’t finish my shelter in time, there would be no other option but to use it after nightfall.
So I got stuck in and found myself a little spot to clear with my machete and as I was taught in both briefings started to clear the area. Within two seconds I stopped and looked down. Something had caught my eye between my legs ... “Sh**,” I said to myself as my body froze. Between my legs lay a coiled brown snake. Now, I don’t know a thing about snakes so I wasn’t going to take any chances -- my first thoughts were typical! “Why does this always happen to me?” Then my brain kicked into gear. We were warned of a snake called a death adder that lies still as its defense, until someone stands on it and then it strikes. Most snakes run away, but not this one ... My snake didn’t move, so I automatically presumed it was a death adder. In the jungle your voice carries quite well, so I blew my whistle as loud as I could. Luckily for me, one of the military guys was in the area just getting his bearings as to where we all were, so he came and within seconds cut the snake's head off with me at a distance. Caution was to be had from now on as I tried to build my confidence back by building an awesome shelter within the time constraints. This was to be my bed for the night so I had better make it as comfy as possible -- not very easy as the only thing covering you in these shelters is a sloping roof to the floor.
Proud of my building skills I headed back to the clearing with my compass. The other guys slowly appeared, as we grouped together to talk about our huts and experience. Corey was pestered by bees, Jason by a tarantula, and Brad and Rich by grubs, which they had in a basket. The grubs were about 2 inches long and very thick, exactly the same as the ones from the bush tucker trial in I’m a celebrity [huh? can we delete this text in red? is it some british tv show or something? mr] and, yes, we had to eat them. The wiggle on them was strong and before you chew you have to take off the heads because they bite as Jason’s tongue found out. They don’t taste that bad at all but the white gunk in the middle when they pop in your mouth was not a pleasant experience.
Having spent an hour round the fire with the elder telling us about his father head hunting and eating people from rival tribes it was time for bed, so I head back into the jungle following my compass again to my shelter. It’s amazing how brave you become when you're on your own and have to get on with things. I found my shelter and decided to do the scout thing and spend an hour starting a fire. A whole hour it took but when it got going I was so proud of myself. With the fire going I lay on my leaves under my mozzy net [mosquito net] and looked to the canopy. At night the jungle comes alive, the sound is nearly deafening. There is no silence as you would expect but the senses become alive. Within a few hours I found myself fast asleep.
Day 5
I wake up and the sun has come up, breaking through the tiny gaps in the canopy. I pack my issued gear, nipped behind my hut for a No. 2, and then headed back to the boat. As we arrived back the villagers greeted us with smiles and cheers as we had achieved our goals and then it was straight into canoe practice. In between water sessions I helped my host carve me my very own paddle to use for the race. I am in the bottom two so far with the canoeing but I have faith -- although during one water session I won the prize for the best fall. I lost my balance and put one foot out the canoe expecting to find a solid surface and I just disappeared straight down like something out of a "Road Runner" cartoon when the coyote steps off the edge of a cliff.
That afternoon was another of excitement. We were going hunting but not for the norm. I was about to go and catch that brown meat that has puzzled me so much. So, I want you all to do an Internet search on the word “flying fox” -- that is what I have been eating all week and that is what we are going hunting for.
Day 6
I shared a great moment with my family members. So far I have seen most of them just sitting round the hut, the people are so chilled out that they just walk round backward. I was sitting in my hut at the back looking out my little window when all of a sudden I heard and then saw everyone leg it out of the hut like lightning, all looking at the ceiling. I just sat there looking puzzled; I had never seen anyone move so fast, so I was left there looking at them all leg it. As they got out they called, "Awi, get out, get out!” My first thought was, “Sh**! There’s a dangerous spider in here or something.” But then they said, "The house is going to fall! Get out, get out!" It was hilarious. As I got out the house we couldn’t stop laughing about it as we're picturing everyone’s faces.
Day 8
My first time in Papua New Guinea was not a pleasant experience. I had a real hatred for the country. The cities lack beauty and are unsafe. The people are unfriendly as you always expect somebody to rob you. But then you peel back the wrappers and visit, to me, what is the most amazing country I have ever seen. I thought I had been there and done it all until this place. The people were the most genuine and friendly I have experienced; they cheered for us, cried for us and gave us everything they had. The farewell was moving and I will never now be complacent or prejudgemental about anything again.
