Smuggling through the mine

We flew into Timika yesterday afternoon, and the town looked pretty calm, no trace of the riots. Upon arrival, we got the confirmation that we were going to cross the mine in the evening. However, it became a “no go” after four hours of waiting. The explanation was “the car broke down”. But I suspect the real reason was to wait for another team (Alpine Ascents) to combine two trips in one to further increase the profit margin for the local cartel operator.

Again, the plan is to go in the evening. Why evening and waste a whole day in town? I began to suspect that the rumored story I read before would happen on this trip. Steven, the local guide, simply advised “stay away from the window”. I later confirmed that our approach is only “semi legal”.

Originally, after paying a hefty fee to gain permits from the Indonesia Tourist Office, the Indonesia Army, and the Indonesia Papua Police, we were assured a “fully legal” approach to cross the mine. Due to the recent riot in Timika, Freeport Mine revoked their consent for fear of being held responsible if the climbers got into trouble with aboriginals in the area. After negotiation, Papua police promised to take responsibility in escorting us while crossing the mine. Why would they want to take such a responsibility? Actually the hefty fee for “permits” is largely a cash transaction, so the real big money is only to be earned if we can cross. Based on the stories I read before, I wonedered if there were ever a “fully legal” approach to cross the mine.

View of Freeport Mine from top of Carstensz

Around 7pm, when it’s already completely dark, cars taking two teams of climbers including us arrived at the police station. We were immediately boarded on to an old bus that obviously was used to transfer mine workers. Then some armed police or army people joined us, and ordered each of us to sit at a certain position, basically, one person in each row of seats. Later I understood that it was to make it convenient for us to duck down. We were also ordered to put on a baseball cap and a jacket despite 90F hot and humid temperature, because that’s how the mine workers would dress to go to work. They also pulled several long metal boards to block the lower half of the side window.

For two hours, the bus roared through rain and dark country roads that climbed up towards the center of Freeport Mine. Every once in a while, maybe six or seven times, whenever we passed a check point, one police would yell at us to duck down. I wished I could sneak a few pictures, but seeing how freaked out some team members were, I didn’t want them to think I was trying to murder the team.

Two hours later, we changed into two vans that seemed to belong to the security office of Freeport Mine, and everyone put on a worker’s vest and helmet. For the next hour, we crossed the heart of Freeport Mine, passing by many giant trucks, whose tires were taller than our van; crossing through lands full of modern industrial frameworks and pipelines. I’m actually very impressed with how modern and how orderly the mine field was. Though we saw very few people moving around, all the working equipment looked well maintained, and all kinds of trucks moved around diligently with a seemly clear purpose. Near the top of the mine, there’s also a large residence area that looked like a fair sized modern town. Its modernly structured apartment buildings were a sharp contrast to the simple or shabby local residence I saw in Timika or Jakarta.

During a big portion of this last hour, we were driving with a dim head light in an endless narrow tunnel. The tunnel construction was quite rough that I couldn’t stop imagining what would happen if the tunnel collapsed. When we were at the exit of the tunnel or certain turning points, the driver would turn off the headlights, and drove to a hidden corner or spot, then came out again with headlights on to disguise the actual direction we came from.

It was already 10ish when we were dropped off at Zebra Wall, the end of the smuggling journey. However, the car behind us was no where to be seen. Were they caught? Were they lost? It turned out that their car broke down at a traffic light and had to wait for our car’s return to “rescue” them. A traffic light was a funny spot to have a “semi legal” car break down. They have to keep ducked down for a long time until no cars/people around, and then ran to hide behind a wall!

From Zebra Wall towards the Mine

This entry was posted on November 8, 2007 at 2:15 pm and is filed under Carstensz Pyramid Blog. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response or trackback from your own site.