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Four Corners: A Journey into the Heart of Papua New Guinea
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Top positive review
28 people found this helpful
5.0 out of 5 starsTHE BEST ADVENTURE TRAVEL BOOK I'VE EVER READ
ByAvid Travel Readeron January 13, 2005
This book COMPLETELY engaged me from beginning to end. It tells the story of a young woman drawn to danger and adventure in one of the most remote locations on earth. She reaches distant tribes that haven't seen any white people, where the kids all run off in terror, thinking she's yellow-haired ghost. She spends time with other tribes still practicing cannibalism, puts up with unsavory local traders, meets shamans and fanatical missionaries and all manner of colorful characters. This is an adventure book on two different levels--we not only learn about the fascinating country of New Guinea, but we learn what drove Ms. Salak to go on such a dangerous and remarkable journey. And more incredibly, she went on this journey ALONE. My hat goes off to her.
If you're looking for some dry, academic kind of book on New Guinea culture--like the previous reviewer seemed to be--then I suggest you go to the library and pick up some scientific journals and go nuts. But if you'd like a great, really readable adventure story that will hold your interest from beginning to end, that won't be a waste of your time or money, then this is the book for you. I've shared this gem with all of my friends--world backpackers and arm-chair travelers alike--and they all loved it.
If you're looking for some dry, academic kind of book on New Guinea culture--like the previous reviewer seemed to be--then I suggest you go to the library and pick up some scientific journals and go nuts. But if you'd like a great, really readable adventure story that will hold your interest from beginning to end, that won't be a waste of your time or money, then this is the book for you. I've shared this gem with all of my friends--world backpackers and arm-chair travelers alike--and they all loved it.
Top critical review
12 people found this helpful
2.0 out of 5 starsWell written book, but highly fictionalized
ByPaul Lackeyon September 8, 2013
This book is well written, is an engaging story and discusses a very important topic--to this day, the atrocities happening against the Papuans by the Indonesian military represent one of the worst, albeit one of the least known, humanitarian outrages occurring in the world. Unfortunately, this book, although being passed off as a factual account of Ms. Salak's journey, plays very loosely with facts and is highly fictionalized.
I know this because I am one of the "characters" in this book. My father is "Doug Larsen", the villainous missionary portrayed in the chapter "Hungarian Delights". The description in this portion of the book is almost entirely fictitious. No, we didn't live in an air conditioned white mansion. Although our house was made of "Western" materials (lumber and corrugated iron) it was powered solely by 9 30 watt solar panels and could never have been air conditioned--even if it had had glass windows, which it didn't. The electricity was used primarily to run a freezer for vaccinations, and we had an emergency generator which we almost never used due to the difficulty and expense of getting fuel to such a remote spot. And of course the house wasn't white. Anyone who has been to the lowlands of PNG would know the futility of trying to paint a house white. Our "running water" was rain collection that was entirely hand pumped (yes, we pumped it ourselves). And we never had delicacies such as strawberries the entire time we were there--almost all the food we ate was local (actually quite good, but for the most part, the same thing the locals ate). Of course the idea that a SDA would spend Saturday morning at home eating brunch will make anyone laugh who is familiar with the religion. It is true that we lived in relative comfort compared to the local people--they are the poorest people on Earth, so it's hard not to. The decision to build western style houses was made by others before our time, and even though Ms. Salak's description of our house as an isolated mansion is incorrect, in retrospect building such a house was at some level a mistake and had to be somewhat alienating.
These nitpicking details are insignificant compared to the wholesale character assassination committed against my parents. The description of their personalities is as far as possible from the truth. Far from being a sociopathic scheming crusader, my father was a phlegmatic non judgmental individual by anyone's account. He was well loved by the people (this was not an act--New Guineans wear their heart on their sleeves) and unlike described in the book there was no bribery involved to win affections. Likewise, my mother (at 5'2" and 125 pounds not "robust") was in no way "severe" and did not comport herself with a "royal air" or try to lord over anyone.
In fact, my parents were not "church planting" or "evangelical" missionaries at all. They were medical missionaries. The government of Papua New Guinea had built a clinic at May River (which was actually a government station) but due to the remoteness of the area were unable to staff it. They asked the SDA church, which like all churches has a strong presence in the country, if they could staff it, and my parents who were nurses who had always wanted to be missionaries volunteered to go. The government put my father in charge of a health district consisting of 50 villages and ranging north to south from Hotmin to the Sepik river and east to west from Lake Warangai to the Sandaun Province border. Three to four days of every week my father spent visiting these villages, conducting mobile clinics and conducting vaccination/maternal health/family planning programs. On these trips, he took nothing with him but medicine and vaccination, and he ate and slept in whatever accommodations were given at the villages. There was no pressure for any of these villagers to become SDA or Christian or to do anything else in exchange for the medication. While on these trips, my mother ran the May River clinic along with some nurses from an SDA hospital in the highlands and some locals who had been trained to provide health services.
The most outrageous claim in the book is the bizarre story of my father crusading against "stone tools". At no point did we make any attempt to change the culture of the people there--and in fact during the time we were there there was very little change in the culture of the people except for that wrought by an influx of money due to mining exploration at the nearby Frieda River. But this claim is ludicrous even on its face. The fact is that May River was a government station that was set up in the mid 1960s, and was staffed by "Kiaps" (kind of like a colonial sheriff)--first Australian and later New Guinean--for decades before our arrival in 1991. Stone tools had fallen out of use long before our arrival as steel had followed the government, although they were still used somewhat in some of the most remote villages in the health district. Needless to say, my father didn't try to eradicate those. Most of the "infrastructure" at May River Station, such as the clinic and the western style housing had been built by the government. The most ironic part of this fable is that Ms. Salak describes my father's character's smugness at destroying the stone tools by comparing it to as if he had eliminated a disease--which is what he ACTUALLY did. Through the vaccination program, Polio and Measles were eradicated from that region.
Why Ms. Salak chose to fictionalize this account, I don't know. Perhaps she did meet some rotten missionary characters (there are plenty of them around) and created a composite character. Or maybe it just better fit the story she wanted to tell by having the first westerners that she meets upon emerging from the jungle be these crazy sociopaths. But regardless, to pass this off as a factual account is not particularly ethical.
From other details that I am intimately knowledgeable of (I lived in the village of Arai for some time, and I personally know "Mozart") it is clear that a factual account was not Ms. Salak's goal. So although this is an enjoyable read and covers a very important topic, as a travel documentary take it with a substantial grain of salt.
I know this because I am one of the "characters" in this book. My father is "Doug Larsen", the villainous missionary portrayed in the chapter "Hungarian Delights". The description in this portion of the book is almost entirely fictitious. No, we didn't live in an air conditioned white mansion. Although our house was made of "Western" materials (lumber and corrugated iron) it was powered solely by 9 30 watt solar panels and could never have been air conditioned--even if it had had glass windows, which it didn't. The electricity was used primarily to run a freezer for vaccinations, and we had an emergency generator which we almost never used due to the difficulty and expense of getting fuel to such a remote spot. And of course the house wasn't white. Anyone who has been to the lowlands of PNG would know the futility of trying to paint a house white. Our "running water" was rain collection that was entirely hand pumped (yes, we pumped it ourselves). And we never had delicacies such as strawberries the entire time we were there--almost all the food we ate was local (actually quite good, but for the most part, the same thing the locals ate). Of course the idea that a SDA would spend Saturday morning at home eating brunch will make anyone laugh who is familiar with the religion. It is true that we lived in relative comfort compared to the local people--they are the poorest people on Earth, so it's hard not to. The decision to build western style houses was made by others before our time, and even though Ms. Salak's description of our house as an isolated mansion is incorrect, in retrospect building such a house was at some level a mistake and had to be somewhat alienating.
These nitpicking details are insignificant compared to the wholesale character assassination committed against my parents. The description of their personalities is as far as possible from the truth. Far from being a sociopathic scheming crusader, my father was a phlegmatic non judgmental individual by anyone's account. He was well loved by the people (this was not an act--New Guineans wear their heart on their sleeves) and unlike described in the book there was no bribery involved to win affections. Likewise, my mother (at 5'2" and 125 pounds not "robust") was in no way "severe" and did not comport herself with a "royal air" or try to lord over anyone.
In fact, my parents were not "church planting" or "evangelical" missionaries at all. They were medical missionaries. The government of Papua New Guinea had built a clinic at May River (which was actually a government station) but due to the remoteness of the area were unable to staff it. They asked the SDA church, which like all churches has a strong presence in the country, if they could staff it, and my parents who were nurses who had always wanted to be missionaries volunteered to go. The government put my father in charge of a health district consisting of 50 villages and ranging north to south from Hotmin to the Sepik river and east to west from Lake Warangai to the Sandaun Province border. Three to four days of every week my father spent visiting these villages, conducting mobile clinics and conducting vaccination/maternal health/family planning programs. On these trips, he took nothing with him but medicine and vaccination, and he ate and slept in whatever accommodations were given at the villages. There was no pressure for any of these villagers to become SDA or Christian or to do anything else in exchange for the medication. While on these trips, my mother ran the May River clinic along with some nurses from an SDA hospital in the highlands and some locals who had been trained to provide health services.
The most outrageous claim in the book is the bizarre story of my father crusading against "stone tools". At no point did we make any attempt to change the culture of the people there--and in fact during the time we were there there was very little change in the culture of the people except for that wrought by an influx of money due to mining exploration at the nearby Frieda River. But this claim is ludicrous even on its face. The fact is that May River was a government station that was set up in the mid 1960s, and was staffed by "Kiaps" (kind of like a colonial sheriff)--first Australian and later New Guinean--for decades before our arrival in 1991. Stone tools had fallen out of use long before our arrival as steel had followed the government, although they were still used somewhat in some of the most remote villages in the health district. Needless to say, my father didn't try to eradicate those. Most of the "infrastructure" at May River Station, such as the clinic and the western style housing had been built by the government. The most ironic part of this fable is that Ms. Salak describes my father's character's smugness at destroying the stone tools by comparing it to as if he had eliminated a disease--which is what he ACTUALLY did. Through the vaccination program, Polio and Measles were eradicated from that region.
Why Ms. Salak chose to fictionalize this account, I don't know. Perhaps she did meet some rotten missionary characters (there are plenty of them around) and created a composite character. Or maybe it just better fit the story she wanted to tell by having the first westerners that she meets upon emerging from the jungle be these crazy sociopaths. But regardless, to pass this off as a factual account is not particularly ethical.
From other details that I am intimately knowledgeable of (I lived in the village of Arai for some time, and I personally know "Mozart") it is clear that a factual account was not Ms. Salak's goal. So although this is an enjoyable read and covers a very important topic, as a travel documentary take it with a substantial grain of salt.
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ByPaul Lackeyon September 8, 2013
This book is well written, is an engaging story and discusses a very important topic--to this day, the atrocities happening against the Papuans by the Indonesian military represent one of the worst, albeit one of the least known, humanitarian outrages occurring in the world. Unfortunately, this book, although being passed off as a factual account of Ms. Salak's journey, plays very loosely with facts and is highly fictionalized.
I know this because I am one of the "characters" in this book. My father is "Doug Larsen", the villainous missionary portrayed in the chapter "Hungarian Delights". The description in this portion of the book is almost entirely fictitious. No, we didn't live in an air conditioned white mansion. Although our house was made of "Western" materials (lumber and corrugated iron) it was powered solely by 9 30 watt solar panels and could never have been air conditioned--even if it had had glass windows, which it didn't. The electricity was used primarily to run a freezer for vaccinations, and we had an emergency generator which we almost never used due to the difficulty and expense of getting fuel to such a remote spot. And of course the house wasn't white. Anyone who has been to the lowlands of PNG would know the futility of trying to paint a house white. Our "running water" was rain collection that was entirely hand pumped (yes, we pumped it ourselves). And we never had delicacies such as strawberries the entire time we were there--almost all the food we ate was local (actually quite good, but for the most part, the same thing the locals ate). Of course the idea that a SDA would spend Saturday morning at home eating brunch will make anyone laugh who is familiar with the religion. It is true that we lived in relative comfort compared to the local people--they are the poorest people on Earth, so it's hard not to. The decision to build western style houses was made by others before our time, and even though Ms. Salak's description of our house as an isolated mansion is incorrect, in retrospect building such a house was at some level a mistake and had to be somewhat alienating.
These nitpicking details are insignificant compared to the wholesale character assassination committed against my parents. The description of their personalities is as far as possible from the truth. Far from being a sociopathic scheming crusader, my father was a phlegmatic non judgmental individual by anyone's account. He was well loved by the people (this was not an act--New Guineans wear their heart on their sleeves) and unlike described in the book there was no bribery involved to win affections. Likewise, my mother (at 5'2" and 125 pounds not "robust") was in no way "severe" and did not comport herself with a "royal air" or try to lord over anyone.
In fact, my parents were not "church planting" or "evangelical" missionaries at all. They were medical missionaries. The government of Papua New Guinea had built a clinic at May River (which was actually a government station) but due to the remoteness of the area were unable to staff it. They asked the SDA church, which like all churches has a strong presence in the country, if they could staff it, and my parents who were nurses who had always wanted to be missionaries volunteered to go. The government put my father in charge of a health district consisting of 50 villages and ranging north to south from Hotmin to the Sepik river and east to west from Lake Warangai to the Sandaun Province border. Three to four days of every week my father spent visiting these villages, conducting mobile clinics and conducting vaccination/maternal health/family planning programs. On these trips, he took nothing with him but medicine and vaccination, and he ate and slept in whatever accommodations were given at the villages. There was no pressure for any of these villagers to become SDA or Christian or to do anything else in exchange for the medication. While on these trips, my mother ran the May River clinic along with some nurses from an SDA hospital in the highlands and some locals who had been trained to provide health services.
The most outrageous claim in the book is the bizarre story of my father crusading against "stone tools". At no point did we make any attempt to change the culture of the people there--and in fact during the time we were there there was very little change in the culture of the people except for that wrought by an influx of money due to mining exploration at the nearby Frieda River. But this claim is ludicrous even on its face. The fact is that May River was a government station that was set up in the mid 1960s, and was staffed by "Kiaps" (kind of like a colonial sheriff)--first Australian and later New Guinean--for decades before our arrival in 1991. Stone tools had fallen out of use long before our arrival as steel had followed the government, although they were still used somewhat in some of the most remote villages in the health district. Needless to say, my father didn't try to eradicate those. Most of the "infrastructure" at May River Station, such as the clinic and the western style housing had been built by the government. The most ironic part of this fable is that Ms. Salak describes my father's character's smugness at destroying the stone tools by comparing it to as if he had eliminated a disease--which is what he ACTUALLY did. Through the vaccination program, Polio and Measles were eradicated from that region.
Why Ms. Salak chose to fictionalize this account, I don't know. Perhaps she did meet some rotten missionary characters (there are plenty of them around) and created a composite character. Or maybe it just better fit the story she wanted to tell by having the first westerners that she meets upon emerging from the jungle be these crazy sociopaths. But regardless, to pass this off as a factual account is not particularly ethical.
From other details that I am intimately knowledgeable of (I lived in the village of Arai for some time, and I personally know "Mozart") it is clear that a factual account was not Ms. Salak's goal. So although this is an enjoyable read and covers a very important topic, as a travel documentary take it with a substantial grain of salt.
I know this because I am one of the "characters" in this book. My father is "Doug Larsen", the villainous missionary portrayed in the chapter "Hungarian Delights". The description in this portion of the book is almost entirely fictitious. No, we didn't live in an air conditioned white mansion. Although our house was made of "Western" materials (lumber and corrugated iron) it was powered solely by 9 30 watt solar panels and could never have been air conditioned--even if it had had glass windows, which it didn't. The electricity was used primarily to run a freezer for vaccinations, and we had an emergency generator which we almost never used due to the difficulty and expense of getting fuel to such a remote spot. And of course the house wasn't white. Anyone who has been to the lowlands of PNG would know the futility of trying to paint a house white. Our "running water" was rain collection that was entirely hand pumped (yes, we pumped it ourselves). And we never had delicacies such as strawberries the entire time we were there--almost all the food we ate was local (actually quite good, but for the most part, the same thing the locals ate). Of course the idea that a SDA would spend Saturday morning at home eating brunch will make anyone laugh who is familiar with the religion. It is true that we lived in relative comfort compared to the local people--they are the poorest people on Earth, so it's hard not to. The decision to build western style houses was made by others before our time, and even though Ms. Salak's description of our house as an isolated mansion is incorrect, in retrospect building such a house was at some level a mistake and had to be somewhat alienating.
These nitpicking details are insignificant compared to the wholesale character assassination committed against my parents. The description of their personalities is as far as possible from the truth. Far from being a sociopathic scheming crusader, my father was a phlegmatic non judgmental individual by anyone's account. He was well loved by the people (this was not an act--New Guineans wear their heart on their sleeves) and unlike described in the book there was no bribery involved to win affections. Likewise, my mother (at 5'2" and 125 pounds not "robust") was in no way "severe" and did not comport herself with a "royal air" or try to lord over anyone.
In fact, my parents were not "church planting" or "evangelical" missionaries at all. They were medical missionaries. The government of Papua New Guinea had built a clinic at May River (which was actually a government station) but due to the remoteness of the area were unable to staff it. They asked the SDA church, which like all churches has a strong presence in the country, if they could staff it, and my parents who were nurses who had always wanted to be missionaries volunteered to go. The government put my father in charge of a health district consisting of 50 villages and ranging north to south from Hotmin to the Sepik river and east to west from Lake Warangai to the Sandaun Province border. Three to four days of every week my father spent visiting these villages, conducting mobile clinics and conducting vaccination/maternal health/family planning programs. On these trips, he took nothing with him but medicine and vaccination, and he ate and slept in whatever accommodations were given at the villages. There was no pressure for any of these villagers to become SDA or Christian or to do anything else in exchange for the medication. While on these trips, my mother ran the May River clinic along with some nurses from an SDA hospital in the highlands and some locals who had been trained to provide health services.
The most outrageous claim in the book is the bizarre story of my father crusading against "stone tools". At no point did we make any attempt to change the culture of the people there--and in fact during the time we were there there was very little change in the culture of the people except for that wrought by an influx of money due to mining exploration at the nearby Frieda River. But this claim is ludicrous even on its face. The fact is that May River was a government station that was set up in the mid 1960s, and was staffed by "Kiaps" (kind of like a colonial sheriff)--first Australian and later New Guinean--for decades before our arrival in 1991. Stone tools had fallen out of use long before our arrival as steel had followed the government, although they were still used somewhat in some of the most remote villages in the health district. Needless to say, my father didn't try to eradicate those. Most of the "infrastructure" at May River Station, such as the clinic and the western style housing had been built by the government. The most ironic part of this fable is that Ms. Salak describes my father's character's smugness at destroying the stone tools by comparing it to as if he had eliminated a disease--which is what he ACTUALLY did. Through the vaccination program, Polio and Measles were eradicated from that region.
Why Ms. Salak chose to fictionalize this account, I don't know. Perhaps she did meet some rotten missionary characters (there are plenty of them around) and created a composite character. Or maybe it just better fit the story she wanted to tell by having the first westerners that she meets upon emerging from the jungle be these crazy sociopaths. But regardless, to pass this off as a factual account is not particularly ethical.
From other details that I am intimately knowledgeable of (I lived in the village of Arai for some time, and I personally know "Mozart") it is clear that a factual account was not Ms. Salak's goal. So although this is an enjoyable read and covers a very important topic, as a travel documentary take it with a substantial grain of salt.
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ByAvid Travel Readeron January 13, 2005
This book COMPLETELY engaged me from beginning to end. It tells the story of a young woman drawn to danger and adventure in one of the most remote locations on earth. She reaches distant tribes that haven't seen any white people, where the kids all run off in terror, thinking she's yellow-haired ghost. She spends time with other tribes still practicing cannibalism, puts up with unsavory local traders, meets shamans and fanatical missionaries and all manner of colorful characters. This is an adventure book on two different levels--we not only learn about the fascinating country of New Guinea, but we learn what drove Ms. Salak to go on such a dangerous and remarkable journey. And more incredibly, she went on this journey ALONE. My hat goes off to her.
If you're looking for some dry, academic kind of book on New Guinea culture--like the previous reviewer seemed to be--then I suggest you go to the library and pick up some scientific journals and go nuts. But if you'd like a great, really readable adventure story that will hold your interest from beginning to end, that won't be a waste of your time or money, then this is the book for you. I've shared this gem with all of my friends--world backpackers and arm-chair travelers alike--and they all loved it.
If you're looking for some dry, academic kind of book on New Guinea culture--like the previous reviewer seemed to be--then I suggest you go to the library and pick up some scientific journals and go nuts. But if you'd like a great, really readable adventure story that will hold your interest from beginning to end, that won't be a waste of your time or money, then this is the book for you. I've shared this gem with all of my friends--world backpackers and arm-chair travelers alike--and they all loved it.
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ByInnominateon June 11, 2006
Being keen on New Guinea biota, I have been working to collect all the literature I can on the area. Most resources one finds are by missionaries, anthropologists, or military stories of World War II. Fairly useless for learning of the flora and fauna. Thus, seeing a book of a peregrination along hundreds of miles of lowland territory was intriguing.
Now, I'll concede there are no rules for writing a book about exotic adventures. However, I *did* have some preconceived expectations of travel writing about such an exotic destination.
I did not expect her to spend 1/10th of the book talking about how dangerous Africa is. I did not expect her to mention how dangerous PNG is on nearly every page, and manage to elaborate on it over and over with each mention. If she wants to cross PNG, sure, admit it can be a little dangerous. However, it gets old reading it page after page after page.
I really feel as though she could have packed twice as much information into the pages as she did. I felt as though I got to know few of the characters, and there was scant mention of the background settings. It was all about her, her thoughts, and how she is growing as a person. Now, this is all fine and dandy for some people, but I really wanted to read more about the characters she encountered, adventures she took. It was her book and she is allowed to write as she pleases. It just was NOT what I expected.
I especially find it incredible how she was able to cross the main landmass, and write so little about the flora and fauna she encountered. New Guinea is a mecca for wildlife, and you could write entire books on the subjects you find in 1 metre square. There is almost no mention of any plants or animals.
Despite my criticism, Ms. Salak indeed has a gift for writing and journeyed through one of the Earths most amazing regions. My review offers a poor rating because the book really wasn't about New Guinea, it was about a confused young woman trying to "find" herself.
Now, I'll concede there are no rules for writing a book about exotic adventures. However, I *did* have some preconceived expectations of travel writing about such an exotic destination.
I did not expect her to spend 1/10th of the book talking about how dangerous Africa is. I did not expect her to mention how dangerous PNG is on nearly every page, and manage to elaborate on it over and over with each mention. If she wants to cross PNG, sure, admit it can be a little dangerous. However, it gets old reading it page after page after page.
I really feel as though she could have packed twice as much information into the pages as she did. I felt as though I got to know few of the characters, and there was scant mention of the background settings. It was all about her, her thoughts, and how she is growing as a person. Now, this is all fine and dandy for some people, but I really wanted to read more about the characters she encountered, adventures she took. It was her book and she is allowed to write as she pleases. It just was NOT what I expected.
I especially find it incredible how she was able to cross the main landmass, and write so little about the flora and fauna she encountered. New Guinea is a mecca for wildlife, and you could write entire books on the subjects you find in 1 metre square. There is almost no mention of any plants or animals.
Despite my criticism, Ms. Salak indeed has a gift for writing and journeyed through one of the Earths most amazing regions. My review offers a poor rating because the book really wasn't about New Guinea, it was about a confused young woman trying to "find" herself.
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Byearthmother3on January 19, 2008
I have read both of Kira Salak's books and thoroughly enjoyed them. I am hoping she will write another one soon. Four Corners was great and I was able to compare much of my trip to hers (although mine was not quite as adventurous). I don't feel she spoke too much on the dangers of PNG, as one reviewer wrote. The dangers are very real and different than other countries. I also enjoyed the excerpt on her travels through Mozambique included in this book. She has a gift for writing. Hurry up Ms. Salak and write another book soon!
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ByKarl F. Ramboon January 4, 2005
If you are a friend of Ms. Salak and want to know more about her inner life, then I recommend this book highly. For the rest of us, her personal identity struggles and self diagnoses get old really fast. Like many travelogues, because she passes much too quickly through the areas that are her stated theme of the book, one doesn't really get to know much about the people and places; it is mostly an "author as hero" kind of book. If you'd like to know more about this area of Papua New Guinea, I suggest the very readable "The Gebusi: Lives Transformed in a Rainforest World," by Bruce Knauft.
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ByJ. Russellon January 19, 2005
Like all great travelogues, "Four Corners" is an account that recognizes the important fact that the traveler themself is an integral part of the journey. Kira Salak takes us on her adventure through one of the wildest and rawest parts of the world, filled with beauty and danger, friendliness and brutality. Along the way she spends time in introspective examination. Why would someone make this trip? Why subject oneself to the uncertainies of a trip with no itinerary through so remote a place? Her answers are as important to the book as the trip itself. Highly recommended.
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5.0 out of 5 starsAfter the harrowing experiences in New Guinea she states from then on she will now only visit safe areas like Cambodia, Iraq
ByGary Gentryon May 30, 2015
Kira Salak must have a strong death wish to go to the places she travels- alone! After the harrowing experiences in New Guinea she states from then on she will now only visit safe areas like Cambodia, Iraq, So. America, etc. Good luck with that,eh? I'm starting her 1st novel- The White Mary.
If you read her you will like her- guaranteed.
gary gentry
If you read her you will like her- guaranteed.
gary gentry
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ByOwen Hugheson January 22, 2011
This book is written with a considerable amount of craft by a youthful author who seems to have accomplished one of the more ludicrously difficult expeditions of the last 200 years. One wonders could it all be possible. To follow the path of a 1927 expedition, even in an approximate fashion and with a certain amount of mechanical assistance not available in the twenties, across New Guinea, travelling up the Fly River on one side and down the Sepik River on the other, is not something that the average modern adventurer would even contemplate. The difficulties are far too many and this applies as much now as it did ten years ago when Salak made her journey. Yet the account is believable and certainly you will want to believe her, even as you get mad that she puts herself in such dangerous situations time and time again. Of course, that is part of the craft, to maintain dramatic tension and Ms. Salak does it very well; even if it is overdone at times, we forgive her, as she has somehow earned the right to exaggerate if she likes. I mean, how could she have done this, really. At the risk of repeating myself, it is an amazing accomplishment.
Beyond a certain natural inclination to think that the book is made up (to some extent), the text nevertheless rings true throughout and in fact, the observant reader will probably agree with me that you couldn't make this up if you tried! So if you just read the book at face value, you are in for a terrific ride but watch out, it gets scary on more than one occasion. Along the way, Ms. Salak visits the "off-limits" refugee camp in which West Papuan survivors of Indonesian massacres and atrocities are living near the border with Irian Jaya. As she remarks towards the end of the book, although she tried to draw attention to the plight of these people and their cause upon her return to the States, it is just one more pathetic refugee story that few people have time for.
Very fast-paced and undeniably entertaining, this book is also unique in that it paints a solid picture of parts of this unknown land, Papua New Guinea, where some of the most remarkable tribal people in the world are still living in communities sufficiently isolated that traditional lifestyles are still being followed. So take a deep breath and plunge right in with this modern-day Freya Stark.
Beyond a certain natural inclination to think that the book is made up (to some extent), the text nevertheless rings true throughout and in fact, the observant reader will probably agree with me that you couldn't make this up if you tried! So if you just read the book at face value, you are in for a terrific ride but watch out, it gets scary on more than one occasion. Along the way, Ms. Salak visits the "off-limits" refugee camp in which West Papuan survivors of Indonesian massacres and atrocities are living near the border with Irian Jaya. As she remarks towards the end of the book, although she tried to draw attention to the plight of these people and their cause upon her return to the States, it is just one more pathetic refugee story that few people have time for.
Very fast-paced and undeniably entertaining, this book is also unique in that it paints a solid picture of parts of this unknown land, Papua New Guinea, where some of the most remarkable tribal people in the world are still living in communities sufficiently isolated that traditional lifestyles are still being followed. So take a deep breath and plunge right in with this modern-day Freya Stark.
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ByChristian B. Cuynoon December 4, 2012
I grew up in Papua New Guinea (PNG) and was feeling a little homesick. I took a chance and bought this book and I was not disappointed. Kira Salak really made me fall in love with PNG all over again. I will definitely read another of her books.
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ByArmchair readeron February 24, 2006
Bravo to Ms. Salak! This book was a pleasure to read from beginning to end. It's what you call a page-turner, but it's also the kind of book that gives me something when I'm done. In this book we're taken through some of the most remote parts of Papua New Guinea, where you can only travel by dug-out canoe or by chopping your way through the jungle. It's ABSOLUTELY UNTRUE what the previous reviewer said about how she doesn't do anything adventurous or doesn't go to remote locations. I don't know which book he read, but it wasn't this one. He should at least get his facts right. Ms. Salak stumbles upon villages where people have never seen white people before, where men dress in tribal wear and sorcerers still cast spells. I can only assume, from the way he was so greatly determined to misrepresent this book, that the previous reviewer must be intimidated by the idea of an adventurous woman going on such a difficult trip by herself, so he needs to try to discredit her. Remember what Schopenhauer says: "What Peter says about Paul says more about Peter than it does about Paul."
Also, it's not fair to criticize the author of a book for a lack of photos. My wife is in the book publishing business, and I know that the decision to not have photos is one the publisher makes to try to save money. It has nothing to do with the author.
To sum up: This entire book is a courageous journey deep into the heart of a fascinating country. It is an ADVENTURE story and also a kind of coming to age tale. It's not a scientific study of New Guinea tribes. If you've got unshakeable expectations for your travel books that they "must" have in-depth scientific descriptions and lectures on anthropology, etc. then I agree with a previous reviewer: go to the anthropology part of the library and have a ball.
I also agree with the other reviewer who said that this book is unpretentious. Unlike many travel books which are written like chronicles of glory by the "brave adventurer", Ms. Salak doesn't turn on any bravado. Instead she explores a new world which she admits is frightening and exciting, while at the same time trying to understand the reasons why she needed to go on such a daring trip in the first place. A great read.
Also, it's not fair to criticize the author of a book for a lack of photos. My wife is in the book publishing business, and I know that the decision to not have photos is one the publisher makes to try to save money. It has nothing to do with the author.
To sum up: This entire book is a courageous journey deep into the heart of a fascinating country. It is an ADVENTURE story and also a kind of coming to age tale. It's not a scientific study of New Guinea tribes. If you've got unshakeable expectations for your travel books that they "must" have in-depth scientific descriptions and lectures on anthropology, etc. then I agree with a previous reviewer: go to the anthropology part of the library and have a ball.
I also agree with the other reviewer who said that this book is unpretentious. Unlike many travel books which are written like chronicles of glory by the "brave adventurer", Ms. Salak doesn't turn on any bravado. Instead she explores a new world which she admits is frightening and exciting, while at the same time trying to understand the reasons why she needed to go on such a daring trip in the first place. A great read.
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