Watching as the MAF airplane disappears from sight, we get the first impression of what it means to be isolated. Here we are: three white people standing among a crowd of locals, in a village where we know nobody, with nothing but two suitcases and a cooler containing the food and clothes we'll need for the next week. With the excitement bubbling around us, there is nothing that we can do but feel excited about what the next week in Sangapi will hold!
Several men from the village offer to carry our bags for us, and we take in the sights as we follow them to our temporary home. Sangapi lies on a small mountain ridge at an elevation of nearly 2,000m above sea level, but is surrounded on all sides by taller mountain ranges. We see bush houses and gardens dotting the mountain sides around us; the only buildings with a tin roof are the small health clinic, school buildings, and mission house, which are all situated on the perimeter of the airstrip. Since no roads lead to Sangapi, there are no vehicles to be seen. Instead, the sound that greets us is the whir of a lawnmower busily working to keep the grounds around the health centre and mission house looking tidy.
We settle into our house and unpack our things before going on a short walk to explore the area around the airstrip. Later in the afternoon, Brandon starts a daily tradition of playing volleyball with whoever would like to join. Shy at first, most stand at a distance to watch while Brandon plays with only the bravest kids. Not long after, others gather their courage to play with the "white man" too, and soon the game is filled with people and laughter. We receive a welcome gift of potatoes and onions from a village lady, and head home for dinner as the rain starts and the sun goes down.
We wake with the roosters at 4am the next morning, who must think they are the sunrise's alarm! After trying to rest for a few more hours, we have breakfast and head outside to explore. As we were starting our explorations yesterday, we saw a path that led out of the village that we planned to explore today. Starting down the path alone, we are soon joined by several children (and not long after, a few adults as well). We realize that this path leads all the way down the mountainside to a river below, and that the people walking with us expect to accompany us all the way to the river! With no idea how far it is, we decide to go with them at least a short way.
Soon, the relatively stable dirt path turns to oozing mud. This is no big deal for everyone else, since they march through the mud in their bare feet -- which were already dirty to start with. For us, getting our runners covered in mud with 6 days of our trip left has us thinking twice. We decide that a little mud shouldn't stop us, and continue. Not long after, we come to a stream with a log lying across as a makeshift bridge. Again, we stop to think twice! Not only does the log look slippery, it is at least a few feet fall to the stream below.. and Brandon is carrying Nova, which means he is lacking the use of his arms. This time, we decide to cross the muddy stream instead of using the bridge, but again continue on with our "tour guides." Their balance and dexterity impress us; a young boy of about 7 has been carrying a toddler on his shoulders nearly the entire way, never slowing or hesitating for a moment. A woman is carrying her newborn in a string-bag, supported by her forehead. Even though the baby is only a few weeks old, this hike does not phase the mother.
Once we reach the river with the "big bridge," we stop to rest while the ladies carry on. They are headed to their garden to harvest some food, which they will then carry back up to the village. The children have a quick swim in the river while we rest, and then head back up with us. About half way back, a few of the children veer off down another smaller path. We ask the others where they are going, and one boy says that their house is that way. Asking if it is okay for us to see where they live, we follow this smaller path. The girl who lives at the first house shows us around her family's property; they are currently in the process of building a new house, but live, cook, and sleep in their old house for the time being. After seeing this house, the children invite us up another path to see even more houses. Some of them live in houses on stilts, others in rectangular houses, and some are round. Some families cook and sleep in the same house, while some have a separate "cook house." All of them are similar in that they are made completely out of bush materials, usually woven together and tied with bush rope. After seeing where four or five of the children live, we make it back to our own house -- tired, yes, but glad that we braved the mud!
After another afternoon game of volleyball (and a game of chase-the-chickens for Nova), we head back to our house for the night. This evening, we prepare more thoroughly for the rats which we discovered the previous night! Though the fridge in the house doesn't work, it serves as a great storage place for any food that is not in Tupperware containers. Any food that we think they might possibly enjoy -- or test -- is put away in the fridge or cooler. Despite all of our cleaning and "removing" efforts, they still feel the need to check for treats each night, which leaves us the job of cleaning up after them each morning. Mental note: next trip to a bush village, bring a rat trap!
