'OFF-GRID' AT THE BASE OF MT WILHELM

by Lynette Ainsworth (Australia)

I didn't expect to find Papua New Guinea

Lonely Planet's Travel Guide to Papua New Guinea described the fifty-six kilometers of road from Kundiawa to Kegesugl as ‘has to be seen to be believed’. They were right. Although construction of new sections of the road were underway, for most of the four hour journey through the mountainous provinces of Simbu and Chimbu we bounced in and out of deep potholes and ruts along the so-called highway as it wound its way north. While Omoko, our driver, skillfully coached our 4WD around yet another bend or over a dodgy river crossing, we hung on tight in the rear, staring down into deep gorges that lined the roadway. Meanwhile, Jack, our guide, buzzed on betel-nut and sang a cheery – Morning! – to everyone we passed – friend, foe and relative alike. At the base of Mt Wilhelm, Omoko pulled the vehicle to a halt. In front was a high arc-mesh fence topped with row upon row of barbed-wire. Jack jumped out to open the padlocked-gate to the Kegesuglo Guest House - our home for the next three nights. Once secure within the guesthouse grounds, we were welcomed by our host, a quietly-spoken young man named Junior. We quickly discovered that the rooms were basic but clean and the bathroom rustic; the water was hot and the loo flushed on demand. What I didn't expect to find was a menu of delicious home-cooked food that included, of all things, fresh trout! But there it was, along with honey from the family's hives, which I later learned was also sold in stores in both Kundiawa and Goroka, and fresh vegetables from their garden. I marvelled at the trout, and wondered where it could possibly have come from. A plentiful supply of electricity, on a property so remote from the main townships was another surprise. Later that evening, as I looked down from the guesthouse verandah, I found the source of the fresh vegetables and honey. A neat productive vegetable garden and a stand of bee hives were laid out below. But what about the trout? That discovery would have to wait until tomorrow. I was thankful there had been no heavy rain overnight when, the next morning, Junior beckoned for me to follow him along a narrow dirt track. It ran from behind the guesthouse down the slippery hillside until coming to an abrupt stop at the edge of a steep drop. Cut into the bank were deep timber-edged steps that led my tentative long legs to the flat land below and, to my surprise, a thirty-two pond trout hatchery. Each pond dug, not by an excavator, but by hand. There, a small herd of sheep in need of shearing, and a posse of inquisitive goats, stared up at me; it was their job to keep the lush green grass that lay between the trout ponds under control. As Junior guided me to the hatchery and surrounding ponds, the ingenuity of this family amazed me; but even more was to come. Water from a nearby river had been diverted so it flowed through each pond in turn and then spilled into a holding dam. From there, it was routed along a narrow channel that stopped at a simple two-sided corrugated-iron roofed shack. As water burst forth from the hand-dug waterway, I didn’t expect to find it rapidly spinning the timber blades of a simple turbine that had been fashioned from a rusty old wheel-hub. But this turbine didn’t just produce electricity for the needs of the guest house, it produced sufficient electricity to light the grounds of the trout hatchery each night and keep the hatchery air pumps running. It even provided electricity for a nearby church and neighbor. Here, near the base of the tallest mountain in Papua New Guinea, a country so often misunderstood and misrepresented, I didn’t expect to find the kind of self-sufficiency that people pursue when wanting to live ‘off grid’. It was heart-warming to see the way Junior and his family worked together to secure a sustainable future in a world that has suffered so much damage in our quest for progress: I believe there is much that can be learnt there.