The local residents and Papuan refugees both speak Yomgom, originating from their ethnic communities that have lived side by side for decades.
By
Agustinus Wibowo
·4 minutes read
AGUSTINUS WIBOWO
The atmosphere of Dome-1 Village inhabited by PNG residents. This village is more advanced than Dome-2 which is inhabited by Indonesian Papuan refugees.
At first glance, Dome looks no different from most other villages in Western Province, Papua New Guinea (PNG): underdeveloped, with almost no trace of development. Yet in this village, refugees from Papua province, Indonesia, live side by side with PNG people.
Dome, around two hours by car from Kiunga that required crossing a river, is divided in two. The native village inhabited by PNG residents, called Dome-1, is located on the bank of the river. Meanwhile, the Papua refugees’ settlement, dubbed Dome-2, is located far inland from the river.
The local residents and Papuan refugees both speak Yomgom, originating from their ethnic communities that have lived side by side for decades. However, the two groups barely speak to each other and the smell of discord is overwhelming.
Regarding the refugees, Dennis, the Dome-1 village secretary, said firmly: “They have to go home! Back to their own country. Because of them, we can\'t use our land.”
I want to talk to the refugees. I only have one person that the Catholic Church recommends, which is Rafael.
Dennis took me to find Rafael.
Dome turned out to be relatively vast, taking 20 minutes from the riverbank to reach the market that marked the village border. From here, you can see the contrast between the two halves of Dome. The refugee settlement of Dome-2 is more primitive. All the houses are made of materials harvested from the forest, without even seng (metal roofing sheet). The only modern items were the two rainwater storage tanks that provided drinking water.
Rafael was a stocky old man. He glared at me.
I introduced myself in English. Rafael didn\'t respond. It was Dennis\' turn to introduce me in Yomgom. They talked for a long time, and Rafael just nodded.
AGUSTINUS WIBOWO
The atmosphere of Dome-2 Village inhabited by Indonesian Papuan refugees.
While continuing to observe me, Rafael finally said in Indonesian, "OK, tomorrow morning at 11, you come back here."
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The next day, I returned to Rafael\'s house accompanied by Jenny Wuring, Dennis\' sister-in-law.
Rafael was not at home. However, seven or eight men sat in a circle in the main room of the stilt house made of wooden slats, looking at me in an intimidating manner. "We are on alert. Indonesia often sends undercover spies here,” said one of them.
"But your movements are not like a spy," continued another.
“How long have you been refugees here?” I asked.
“First of all, we are not refugees. We are Dome-2 residents,” said Titus Koponang, the man sitting next to me who claimed to be the head of Kampung Dome-2.
Next to Titus was Benny Rukamko, who said he was a farmer and explained at length how they came to be in Dome-2.
They all came from Waropko district in Boven Digoel regency, Papua. In 1984, the police raided their neighborhood, so the residents immediately fled across the border to PNG.
"Why run?" I asked.
“In 1984, our leader said, if we continue to stay in Indonesia, it will be difficult for us to fight. That\'s why we came here,” said Benny. "We continue to maintain cooperation with those still in Papua, as well as with Papuan freedom fighters living in America, Europe, Australia, Vanuatu and other [countries]."
AGUSTINUS WIBOWO
Some of the Indonesian Papuan refugees who attended the meeting at Rafael\'s house.
"Isn\'t it a hard life? Now, food has become a source of conflict with the native residents of Dome,” I commented.
“Whether we eat or not, we aren’t bothered. We and the people of Dome-1 share a common ancestor. When we came here, they willingly made room for us.”
“We are always the tuan rumah here. We can stay and work here to achieve our goals,” Titus continued, referring to a term that means both household head and homeowner.
The men only wanted to talk politics. Whenever I diverted the conversation to everyday life, they always returned to politics. “Politics is our food,” said one man.
I suspected that they were reluctant to talk about the problems of daily life in Dome because Jenny was with me. Jenny, a resident of Dome-1, smiled sweetly at them, but in her heart she hated them.
We talked for more than two hours, and then we parted ways. Titus embraced Jenny tightly. Laughing, he said, “She is my good sister-in-law.” Jenny laughed too, confirming that they’re all wantok, or “one talk”: a community that speaks the same language.
AGUSTINUS WIBOWO
Leaflets about OPM kept by Indonesian Papuan refugees in Dome-2 Village.
However, as soon as I left Rafael\'s house, I saw the smile on Jenny\'s face instantly turn into a frown.
“I am very unhappy!” she exclaimed. "They lied. They never told us about their plans to stay here until Papua became independent. This is not their land. Since when did they become household heads here? They have to go home!”
(This article was translated byKurniawan Siswoko).
