Arrival in Nehes

The 17 hour drive into the Nehes Liah Bing over rough and windy roads, some parts dirt and some parts paved, was at first targeted to be longer than anticipated. But when our drivers and leaders learned another, faster route was open, the trip was actually truncated by a couple of hours. It was a harrowing ride, though, given the fearless drivers, residents of Nehes, and the multiple near head-on-collisions. Granted, the drivers are not only fearless, but they are highly skilled, and if vehicles share a lane in the opposite directions, generally someone slows down before the worst occurs.
Along the way we passed miles of deforested land containing spindly trees, scrub bushes and grass, although there remain patches of richer, more diverse vegetation. The soil here is apparently not conducive to rich regrowth, which I can vouch for in a sense, now that I’ve now had the pleasure to run on the clay surfaces here, a great running surface, but not the best for the vegetation, I must say.
We arrived at 10:30 pm. Some stayed up for the villager’s welcome, while others went straight to bed, myself included. I laid out my air mattress on the upstairs floor of the Nature Conservancy building at which we are staying for a night or two, before we are re-located to our home-stays for the duration of our visit. At 4:50 am, I could hear again the haunting Muslim call to prayer, which I had heard for the first time in Balikpapan, the first real indication to me that I was in a very different country; different from the similar climates of Mexico and Costa Rica where the people even are physically similar in appearance, it seems to me. The call-to-prayer is a beautiful piece of music, which I may like to learn at some point simply for the pleasure of repeating its haunting melody. That said, I’m told the population of Nehes is predominantly Roman Catholic.
This morning was breakfast downstairs with a view to the muddy waters of the Wehea River, once pristine, a stone’s throw away, where villagers bathe and do their laundry. The rivers were once clear, apparently, prior to deforestation in the 70s, and now are nearly perpetually murky as soil is easily carried off and sent unceremoniously to travel for miles of river waters. Where they end up, I am uncertain. I had some clothes to wash, so I joined them for a short time. It seemed necessary to wash my feet and my Doggers rubber shoes too, though I have yet to try the bucket shower and outhouse method – a pending inevitability.
It sounds like I may be able to organize a small group of runners to join myself and Sheryl, the two runners in our group. I would like to acquire a bicycle soon too. It sounds like I may be able to.
Now, for a group tour of the town…