tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5902831026037257657.post-65852557650036722942007-03-19T06:07:00.000-07:002007-03-19T07:41:59.637-07:00<a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_efZp9JlZK3A/Rf6cage_CKI/AAAAAAAAAG8/xEMTlS-37Dk/s1600-h/DSC00623.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043640611911960738" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_efZp9JlZK3A/Rf6cage_CKI/AAAAAAAAAG8/xEMTlS-37Dk/s320/DSC00623.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_efZp9JlZK3A/Rf6bBAe_CJI/AAAAAAAAAG0/9OuyavPqThs/s1600-h/DSC00608.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043639074313668754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_efZp9JlZK3A/Rf6bBAe_CJI/AAAAAAAAAG0/9OuyavPqThs/s320/DSC00608.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><div><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_efZp9JlZK3A/Rf6aVQe_CII/AAAAAAAAAGs/GHa-CiYktgc/s1600-h/DSC00603.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043638322694391938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_efZp9JlZK3A/Rf6aVQe_CII/AAAAAAAAAGs/GHa-CiYktgc/s320/DSC00603.JPG" border="0" /></a> Kundu sculptures in no mans land<br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_efZp9JlZK3A/Rf6Zlge_CHI/AAAAAAAAAGk/FFlW5Ak_Dag/s1600-h/DSC00600.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043637502355638386" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_efZp9JlZK3A/Rf6Zlge_CHI/AAAAAAAAAGk/FFlW5Ak_Dag/s320/DSC00600.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_efZp9JlZK3A/Rf6YeAe_CGI/AAAAAAAAAGc/xsV1KbdNP4Y/s1600-h/DSC00591.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043636273994991714" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_efZp9JlZK3A/Rf6YeAe_CGI/AAAAAAAAAGc/xsV1KbdNP4Y/s320/DSC00591.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><div>Me and Johnny at the border</div><br /><br /><br /><div>Wutung</div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /> </div><div align="center"><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_efZp9JlZK3A/Rf6XQAe_CFI/AAAAAAAAAGU/j7Bj3zTLCqs/s1600-h/DSC00592.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043634933965195346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_efZp9JlZK3A/Rf6XQAe_CFI/AAAAAAAAAGU/j7Bj3zTLCqs/s320/DSC00592.JPG" border="0" /></a>Me, Bao and Shane </div><div><br /> </div><div><div>During the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">PNG</span> Surfing National titles held in Lido, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Vanimo</span>, I had the opportunity to go across the border with some friends to see how our brothers and sisters connected to us by one land live. It was an overwhelming experience for me. We began by leaving the village, Lido by bus into <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Vanimo</span>. We then caught a bus from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Vanimo</span> that took us to the border. We left in a mini bus, packed full of passengers for the border. One thing that you will notice about the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Sundaun</span> province is the sounds. The waves crashing on the shore contrasted against the thick sound of the forest. A unique sound <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">arises</span> from the forest, from a mysterious insect which I am yet to identify. The senses you feel are full, the landscape is stunning, the smell of the ocean mixed with the moist forest floor, the perfume of secret blooms of forest flowers, float out of the intense green <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">entanglement</span>... wow absolute wonderment. With the crashing waves to the right and the green <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">entanglement</span> to the left, a perfect combination, the ride to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Batas</span> was a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">privilege</span>.<br /><br />On the way rock pools dotted the coast, the reefs merely 20 metres away from some villages the only protection between them and the crashing waves. The turrets the waves had carved towards the shore, a gushing torrent of movement, seething and breathing. The mesmerising, throb of the mysterious insects in the background.<br /><br />Forty- Five minutes later we had reached the border crossing, where we were confronted with the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">spectacular</span> view of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Wutung</span> village and the bay below. An '<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Indonesian</span>"family rushed towards me and handed their baby to hold and we took <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">photographs</span> together. I was speaking pidgin to them, as visually we looked like one people but we could not understand each other. I felt sad at the thought that we could not <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">communicate</span> through language, there were smiles all around though.<br /><br />After taking in the view we walked through the border gates into 100m of no mans land. On reaching the other side we simply signed our names and indicated our sex on the sign in sheet and proceeded to walk across the border. Johnny, my bro and guide told me not to take any photos. When walking past the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Indonesian</span> guards, I knew why. There was a machine gun pointed towards the road?? Border control.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Batas</span> the little town was interesting, but it was just filled with junk. We had a look around bought a few things and left.<br /><br /><br />On leaving I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">couldn't</span> help but think of how blessed <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">PNG</span> was to be an independent country. You could feel the oppression. We are a free and independent state... <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">that's</span> special. Lets look after this place, its ours.</div></div></div></div></div>Save PNGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10122295925677415773noreply@blogger.com