The view of Doumori is indeed quite worthy of being called heavenly. Coconut trees line the banks of the river, with green grass that marks how fertile this land is.
By
AGUSTINUS WIBOWO
·5 minutes read
Kompas
Map of Papua and Papua New Guinea
I woke up in a hut in Doumori, a small village at the mouth of the Fly River in Western Province, Papua New Guinea (PNG). The sun\'s rays burst through small holes in the woven wall of sago leaves. The stove in the middle of the room was still steaming; Mama Ruth had just boiled water for breakfast.
The biological call brought me to the door, ready to descend the steps of the stilt house. I was surprised to see that the ground under the house was covered in mud. The previous day, I arrived by a small canoe because the whole village was flooded. Now, the water was not completely dry either.
I nearly slipped when going down the stairs, when walking on the ground and when I had to cross a knee-deep muddy ditch.
In order to defecate, I had to walk 200 meters, consuming almost all of my energy. On the other hand, the locals appeared to be highly trained, walking across the mud as skillfully as experienced skiers gliding on ice.
"This is life in Doumori," Mama Ruth said with a smile, showing a row of white teeth. “This is the Doumori I love the most. Our paradise. Our house."
***
The view of Doumori is indeed quite worthy of being called heavenly. Coconut trees line the banks of the river, with green grass that marks how fertile this land is. Unfortunately, Doumori seems to be cursed with endless calamities.
Residents said flooding continued to hit Doumori because of the mining activities of Ok Tedi, which was about 700 kilometers upstream of the Fly River. In 1984, the company\'s sewage dam system collapsed, so they dumped the waste directly into the river network. The Fly River became shallow so that during high tide, villages around the river mouth were flooded for up to six days — every month. Due to the flooding, activity is paralyzed.
AGUSTINUS WIBOWO
A stretch of wet mud fills a residential area in Doumori, Papua New Guinea
Mama Ruth\'s father recalled: “Before 1984, when there was a flood, there was only sand and the water immediately receded. But now, the flood brings mud.”
Mud from the Fly River contains toxic substances from mine waste. Mama Ruth\'s father complained that the villagers’ feet would be covered in wounds after walking in the mud. I also noticed that many residents were very severely suffering from scabies, possibly from bathing in a contaminated river.
***
Environmental changes also altered the natural rhythms of the Fly River. In the morning, the river receded until it was completely dry, creating a stretch of sand like a beach by the sea. The village boys descended onto the stretch of sand that should have been the bottom of the river, playing cheerfully and running around, as if enjoying a beautiful picnic day by the beach.
But all the fun had to end at around 10 a.m. Mothers screamed anxiously, calling their children to leave the sand. From a distance, waves of turbid water could be seen rolling in. The rumbling sound was getting louder and louder, almost drowning out the screams of the mothers.
Slowly, the water rose ankle-deep. The older women were already on standby on the shore, each carrying a circular net 1 meter in diameter to catch fish. Five minutes later, the water reached their knees and the women were jumping nimbly to the shore.
Then came that terrible moment: the tsunami.
AGUSTINUS WIBOWO
Fly River at low tide in the morning
Rolls of water from the sea swept across the stretch of sand, crashing at high speed. That was why boating in the estuary of the Fly River was very dangerous. Boats could be stranded on a stretch of sand when the river receded, and the next morning, they could be crushed by the tsunami. The village women who caught fish in the sand were risking their lives. If they made a mistake for a second, they could be dragged by the tsunami’s waves, swept away into a river that — don\'t forget — it was inhabited by lots of crocodiles.
The stretch of sand was formed by mining waste sediment, which caused the river to be shallow and to continue to expand, slowly eroding and submerging the villages along its banks. Meanwhile, tsunamis occurred because rising sea tides were no longer blocked by rivers that were too shallow. After high tide, the Fly River displayed its ferocious form. So vast, mighty and angry.
Sitting on a couch gazing at the great river, Rodney Badolo, the village head of Doumori, recalled: “In the past, our grandparents said that the Fly River was not this wide. People from that era could communicate with other villages just by shouting.”
The opposite bank was now dimly visible in the distance, as if we were looking at Bali from the tip of the island of Java.
“In the past, the river water was also clear and could be drunk directly. In the 1980s, we could still see fish swimming on the riverbed,” Rodney added.
