Trip to the Middle bush

It was time to get off my backside and head off to the bush to find out a bit more about Santo. I arranged with Glen, a Banks man (everyone is known by a the addition of their island origin) to go to a custom village Tanmet in the middle bush. Custom villages are ones that adhere to the old ways and beliefs and have rejected the advances of the missionaries. Mostly the people there have no schools, aid posts or any real connection to the outside world.

First it was a 45 minute drive to Nambel at the head of the road where I was joined by Harry from Nambouk a neighbouring village and Edmond, Glen's stepson who were to act as my guide and carry my rucksack. Here the sun shone, the clothes dried and the children played cards.

The 3 hour walk was very muddy and after 30 minutes I remembered I had left my torch and toothbrush behind. As I stumbled over the roots of the trees and slid in the mud I began to wonder why I was on this walk. After a couple of hours the heavens opened and in no time we were soaked to the skin.

Three hours later we arrived at the Red Banana Bungalows at Five River and were greeted by Pascal and his new second wife , the young Eva. They had three children with them who were visiting from another village. Harry decorated their faces with the local earth; which they also use to paint the bamboo walls of the houses.

It is in a delightful setting with a river on both sides. I 'swam' in the river to cool down and clear the sweat and had a good lunch. There were comfortable beds in simple rooms with earth floor. Eva was an excellent cook and the fresh water prawns in garlic and ginger were delicious as was the island cabbage in coconut.

Next day was fine but had to put on damp shorts. We now started climbing and followed a ridge for 6 hours through the rain forest. We came across one small stream but no sign of anyone. The path was rough and at times barely distinguishable. There was plenty of up and a bit down and rarely flat. Although Edmond hacked at overhanging branches and vines I still had to watch where I trod most of the time. I was soaked in sweat in no time but at least could moderate my pace.

At 5 hours the rain came and again we were soon soaked to the skin. The thunder rolled continuously for about an hour. a kind of auditory firework display. As soon as the large roll of thunder quietened a small subsidiary roll would come in from the left then a further roll of different pitch from the right followed by another great crash. After a while it just became background noise like traffic until there was a nearish lightening strike and we all jumped to the quadrophonic sound around.
At 1pm (still raining) we came to Tanmet  which appeared deserted. Indeed all the houses were locked and we went to sit in the Nakamal (the meeting house). Edmond found one old lady who was a bit confused and couldn't help. After a while some children appeared and told us that there had been a death in one of the neighbouring villages 6 hours away and so everyone had gone there for the 10 day funeral celebrations. There was a girl of about 17 years and four younger ones. They were curious but understandably rather shy.

We settled into the guest house and  were brought a bowl of fresh water prawns and taro. After, I went down to the tap and stripped to underpants and had a good wash (probably entertaining to the kids to see a white man washing) and put on dry clothes. I looked round the village; the houses were long and on the ground and the area was swept clean. There was a massive concrete star in the middle which meant they were/are members of the Nagrimal movement, a kind of cultural movement that encourages people to stick to old custom ways and beliefs. It was founded by Jimmy Stephens, a powerful half Tongan , half Torba man who led a breakaway faction at the time of Independence. Unfortunately it was corrupted by many French expats and some rather shady unsavoury characters and he ended up in jail.

That evening we were meant to be having a custom feast with the chief and kava drinking. Instead we shared a packet of biscuits, a bag of peanuts and a couple of freshly picked pineapples. Since none of us had torches we were thankful the moon was full and casting shadows.

Our hut is at the top of the village. It was quite comfortable for me on my thermorest but Harry and Edmond were pestered by mosquitoes.

Next day the sun shone and we had a magnificent morning. We had a last look at our deserted village. Breakfast was freshly cut pineapple but as we were about to leave a woman brought along a couple of pieces of taro. I declined.

We left with the children playing tag in the sun.

 We retraced our steps and had another pineapple at each rest stop. In the last hour the storm broke and again we were soaked to the skin before arriving at 5 Rivers.

Eva gave us a tasty lunch of rice with island cabbage and onion. That evening we had a larger plate of freshwater prawns with some delicious 'island cabbage'. Next day Harry pointed out the plant that looked suspiciously like bracken but was in fact a type of fern. I hope it is not as carcinogenic/toxic as bracken.However see http://honest-food.net/2011/06/24/bracken-fern-food-or-poison/ to see that it is probably fine. Breakfast was simple, thank goodness for peanut butter!

On the last day the walk back on the muddy track was a doddle, so smooth and flat! I could not imagine what I had found so difficult on the first day. I was taken to a settlement called Tantu village where Aru , a tall strong chap in his mid thirties had cleared some land and was living with his wife and six children (three of them had been staying at five rivers and had their faces painted).

His father had been in the Nagrimal movement and had been a supporter of Jimmy Stephens. Aru decided to keep to traditional law and custom including minimal clothing but send his children to school (in clothes). I have a vague suspicion that he earns a good whack by allowing tourists to visit his village and take photos. The kitchen is basic with one fire for boiling and one for baking. They have a game very similar to quoits-- ?? introduced by a Victorian missionary.

So back to Nambel to be met by Glen who was totally unapologetic about the empty village. In true Melanesian way the mere mention of it was completely disregarded (and rather rude of me).
So was I disappointed? Yes, I really wanted to talk to the chief and find out more about their life.
Was I glad I had gone? Oh yes
Was it a hard walk? Yes fairly tough but quite doable at a steady pace
Would I do it again?  I am not sure.
Yet later when Harry told me of a tour he used to do from south to north Santo staying in 7 different villages I found myself being enthused until I remembered that putting on wet clothing every morning and walking in soaking soggy trainers for 7 days is not what I want to do.