Take me to the river

Us on the left, the entire village staring at us on the right.
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We were in the village for a week before a massive group of Americans came out and joined us, so the four of us got to see a lot more than they did. One of the first things we did was trek to a nearby river to have a bath and pick crops.

Well, it was nearby in PNG terms, which means 'less than a day's walk away'. We must have hacked our way through a good few miles of jungle before we actually reached the river, which was down a suicidally steep bank. And when we got there, we still had a half hour walk along the river bed itself before we reached our destination.

The Westerners had a bath, while the entire village stared and wondered why on earth our hair was frothing

My forced smile conceals the fact that I can no longer feel my arse.
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The villagers did that walk a few times a week at least. With their improbably wide and padded feet (that looked like Western feet, splattered on the pavement after being dropped from a great height) the river bed was no problem for them.

I, however, not only had Western feet but was a huge baby. I dropped my boots in the water, I griped, I counted the seconds till the river bed trek was done. It was worth it in the end, though. There was an impromptu barbecue of sweet potato (kau-kau) which doesn't actually taste of potato - more like a giant chestnut.

Then the Westerners had a bath, while the entire village stared and wondered why on earth our hair was frothing. I think normally they would have washed themselves and their clothes too, but that day they were too busy watching the show.