THE LONG PATH OF THE CROCODILE (2011)

THE LONG PATH OF THE CROCODILE

What I could say about myself is one single thing, similar to a slogan I do remember – In this world there should also be people like myself. These people abide neither by the rules of governments nor by the rules of most people in the civilized world.

I knew little about Papua. My only knowledge came from a book with a real story about how Papua New Guinea was discovered. Two prospecting miners went to the market in Brisbane in 1890 and there they saw a clay pot. At a closer look, they noticed some small gold scales all over it. The miners organized an expedition to search for the mud this “Pot” was made from, as the mud was rich in the gold that had drifted down from the mountains over millions of years. Thus, it is a “Pot” made of clay that discovered gold in Papua New Guinea. Here, in this house you can see the history of many tribes from East Sepik. You can rarely come upon a house where you feel part of New Guinea. There, at the Windjammer hotel, there isn’t a single mask, while here you know for sure you are in Papua New Guinea.

Some tribes are afraid of the masks made by other tribes, and they represent Spirits. These masks have a life of their own. They do not only help those who made them to express themselves, but also protect them. There is a very strong bond, and it is important to understand that the sole reason for it is not that a man fancied carving the wood. Carving is a centuries-old tradition. Many masks are made from wood and most of them no longer exist. In Europe, while the climate ranges between warn and cold, wood survives. Here, however, the climate being humid, the masks wet and then go rotten. This is why there is little left from the history of this island. 

This is the genuine Kina – the money that was used for trading. It is made of clam shells – shells that are big and live deep in the waters, which makes them very rare. The bigger, the rarer. Their value depends on the size. This one, for example, is worth $100, that one is worth $150, and yet that one – $500. There are others even bigger. The clams are used for anything: for buying women, pigs, objects. This is the genuine original Kina used in Papua New Guinea. It is the forefather of the coins used nowadays – they have a hole in the middle and are  called Kina. These ones are rather ancient. They have witnessed a lot of events and have been in the hands of thousands of people.

The Drums,

Back in the past, when the telephone didn’t’ exist in PNG, they served as a telephone. Any ceremony involved a drum. This is the most widely spread one. The skin comes from a large lizard – iguana. This is a genuine skin, and than one is made from trestle. Some water and sugar are added, which makes it harder and produces this sound.

There is very little to tell about the sentiments between a man and a woman. The word “love” does not exist. The Pigeon way of expressing it is: “Me like you” – “Me like me you” – I like you. It is similar to a business transaction. The man builds a house for the woman, while the woman takes care of him and gives birth to children. In some provinces, including this one, the man has a wife for each day. One for cooking; one for gardening; one for keeping the pigs; one for fishing, etc.  This is the way how rich  people in Papua New Guinea live.

In Papua New Guinea there is a long-time belief that some objects, for example, this bone from a big bird – an ostrich – have the power to bewitch people. It is called “Bone Pointing”. I do hope it will not cast a spell on you; in order to produce the effect, I have to point it at you. When the magician points it at the person he wants to bewitch and utters some special words, the bewitched one dies soon due to a certain cause. Hold it, let’s not point it too precisely… The Bone Pointing is something very strong in this country. Everybody are awfully scared of it. This is why sometimes these magicians get murdered. As people search their homes in an attempt to find the bones used to cause death, sometimes the magicians themselves also perish.

Crocodiles are worshiped at the Sepik river, even though they are hunted for their meal. They are closely related to people’s life, in particular the life of a tribe called Korogo, which is also known as “The crocodile’s people”. This tribe perceives the crocodile as their God, their symbol; every year, in order for young boys to become men, they have to become the crocodile’s children. For the purpose of this transition, they undergo a painful and lengthy torture where the back and front of their bodies are cut with broken mussel shells from the river. When their skin heals, it looks very similar to a crocodile’s skin. Then they become equal to the other members of the tribe.

Papua New Guinea has always been associated with cannibalism, which was widely spread in the past. It also used to be practiced by aborigines in Australia. Now, you may come across isolated tribes that still have this practice. It is only till 50-60 years ago that they hadn’t ever seen a white-skinned human being. There were always wars waged between the tribes, in particular over territories. There is a human skull dug in the ground beneath each column. Along the Sepik river you cannot build a Housetambaran (a man’s house), unless there is a skull underneath. This explains why there are no newly built man houses. It is said that as this can no longer be done officially, the Spirit does not allow them to built. Houses.

Modern life is making its way in Papua New Guinea, which suggests that these artistic and spiritual figures will be getting rarer. I very much hope to succeed in organizing an exhibition, and by doing so enable the world to see the Sepik and the spiritual associated with these objects.

It all started back in 1965 when I enrolled in Levski team in order to be trained in academic rowing.

The system was quite severe in those times.” If you are not with us, you are against us.” I was with them, as I was a member of the National team. I traveled to Italy for pre-Olympic competitions. This helped me see the way forward and become aware of where I was heading. I didn’t like the system. I couldn’t imagine myself being a part of it throughout my life. You take the chance and you make up your mind. Had the situation been different, I may never have left Bulgaria. There are lots of people who didn’t make it. We made it !

When the border line was established, some villages and family members were separated. Some remained in Bulgaria, others in Yugoslavia. Once a year the Kalotina border-crossing point was opened to allow brothers to see their sisters… I knew about this. As I was very unhappy with the situation, I said to my cousin Niki: “Let us take up this opportunity and, if possible, we will head further to Belgrade.” When we arrived at Kalotina, we saw people dancing, laughing; there were cheese pies and all kinds of food. I saw a river with a small bridge across it. There were police on both sides – a Bulgarian and a Yugoslav. I noticed that the Yugoslavs on their way back just greeted the policeman and continued on their way. Then I said to Niki: “This seems rather easy, which is not at all the case. Yet, if we successfully pretend to be Yugoslavs, then we will also make it. I will make the first attempt. If I am stopped, I will say – well, I just saw other people crossing the bridge, so I decided to do the same, to go and buy some chocolate.” 

So I made my way to the bridge, and when I reached the police officers, I turned to the Yugoslavian policeman and greeted him doing my best to properly use the Serbian language: Hi, buddy! How are you doing?”, and he responded: “Good, good.” So I crossed the bridge without any obstacles. There I saw a cart and an old woman sitting next to it. Niki also made it: “What shall we do now?” I said: “There you see people walking along a tiny road covered with round river stones.” We took this road. I was wearing the Beatles-type of boots on high heels. I found it really hard to walk. We were just getting out of the village, when we saw two Yugoslav border soldiers in caps and armed with guns walking straight towards us. Niki said: “Let’s run into the forest” I said to him: “Don’t do it! Go on walking towards them; if we don’t do it, we are dead. You can’t run away from guns!”  We met and I once again greeted them the same way: “How are you doing, buddies?”, they answered: “Good, good. In good health.” and continued on their way. We did the same in spite of the burning temptation to turn around; it is unbelievable how you can resist the temptation. What you expect to hear is: “Hands up!” We didn’t hear anything. We turned around after passing the first curve of the road. The soldiers were gone.

Being scared, we decided on waking in the forest instead of the road. We knew that if we were detected somewhere far from the border, near another village, this might ring a bell. At about 3 p.m., I heard a car approaching. If the car gave us a ride, we would make it to Dimitrovgrad, otherwise the more time passed, the greater the risk of being suspected as runaways. We stepped onto the road and the car stopped. I was holding a raincoat folded on my arm. I said to the driver: “You see, man, we are Bulgarians and we are fleeing Bulgaria.” The man started trembling and said: “I’ll give you a ride.” without taking his eyes off the hand under the raincoat.

At 4.30 sharp we reached the railway station. The reward offered for Bulgarian runaways caught was one hundred kilos of cheese and several thousand dollars. I said to the driver: “Look, I have a few dollars. Please take it and buy us tickets.” The man refused: “No, no I’ll get you the tickets.” He did so, came back and said: “I wish you good luck and health!” He was such a kind-hearted person….

The 6-o’clock train left from Dimitrovgrad to Belgrad. We were on it. The wagons were the old wooden type – the seats on opposite sides. There was a man seated opposite to us who was impudently looking at us. I lost my nerve and greeted him in the way I had already tested: “Hi, buddy! How are you doing?”, and he answered in pure Bulgarian: “You are Bulgarians, aren’t you? Running away.” I said: “We’re just giving it a try.”

The train started slowing down, and Niky and I caught each other’s eye: “As soon as it approaches a station, we must jump off the train, as there will no doubt be police waiting for us on the platform.” This is what we did – as the train was entering the station, we jumped from the back, being in the last wagon.

We continued our way on foot, and at about 6.30 in the morning a car with a German registration plate caught up with us. It was driven by a Turk. He was drunk, what was the expression for it – as drunk as a fish. We got into the car and the Turk sped up. I said to Niky: “We will get either crashed or stopped by the police.” At some point I saw a line of stopped cars. And blue lights on one of them.  Whether it was an accident or a check, there was no way for us to know. Hence, I grabbed the Turk by the neck and shouted: ”Stop the car!” He did so and we jumped out and run straight into the forest.

We were exhausted. We caught sight of a big haystack and I said to Niki: “Niki, let’s get inside and have some sleep.” We thrust ourselves inside –warn, a nice smell – and we fell asleep. At some point in time we heard voices. I looked through the hay and saw some shadows moving around the stacks. They started pushing into the hays with some iron pitchforks. I noticed they were women, which calmed me down. I got out of the hay and there right in front of me was a young girl. She started screaming like hell. I was struck speechless. Then I saw an elderly Croatian running toward us. I recall he was wearing very wide trousers. I hadn’t seen such trousers before.

I said to the old man: “Take it easy, man, we are Bulgarians and we are running away.” He understood and said: “Sleep, sleep, we will do this stack last.” I didn’t accept his offer and we hit the road. It was getting lighter and we heard a bell ringing. We turned around and saw a little girl on a big bike with a basket in front. The girl said: “This is for you. There is some bread in the basket, feta cheese, yellow cheese, tomatoes and sausage.” Once again, thanks heaven, instead of being reported to the police, we were given food.

 The next day we walked into Kopar. We went into a bar. A story was being told on TV about a Czeck family shot dead by the police the day before. The family had been attempting to cross the Italian border in a car. Niki said: “No matter what has happened, we must also pass through this border.” It was a wide bay and there were about 18 kilometers to reach Italy. I said: “It isn’t that far, I think that if we get into the water tomorrow, it will take us 4 hours to get to the Italian shore.” This seemed to be a shock to Niky: “You are nuts! Don’t you know how many sharks are in the sea?” “What sharks, man!, I said, “There are no sharks in here!” I noticed, however, that the beach area was cut off with a net. Niki was absolutely reluctant to swim in those waters. Then I said: “OK, Niky, here is half of the money to keep for yourself. I’ll stay here, on the beach.” He left!  At around 2 o’clock at night I caught sight of a figure moving towards me. I was scared, what if it’s a policeman? I was relieved to see it was Niki who smiled: “We got so far together. If we are to get drowned, let’s do it together.” We sat for a while talking. The horizon was becoming visible, so we plunged into the sea w. I was swimming in my jeans and boots. All of a sudden a black wall emerged in front of us. Butterflies, birds were flying over our heads. A storm was approaching. I know for sure that it is the storm that saved our lives. Otherwise, the Adriatic sharks being very aggressive, most probably we would never have made it. We would have been devoured by them.

The sea became so rough that breathing was difficult. I had given Niky a leather jacket and I saw it floating on the water. The worst of thought occurred to me, but I swam on fighting for my life. All of a sudden the storm subsided. I saw a beach and some colours on it. I knew there were no more than 3-4 kilometers left. I couldn’t see Niki. I noticed a boat heading towards me.  As it passed by, I saw the Italian flag. I still remember how I was shivering when I was taken out of the water. It was not because of having been 12 hours in the water but rather because of being very nervous. I was dragged out and someone asked: “Ein, Zwei?” I understood what he was asking if I was alone or there were others. I said – Zwei. We reached the beach. It was a large camping place.  I was carried into a big tent. They took out a bottle of whiskey and started rubbing it into my body. They thought I was shivering from the cold. We left the beach and they took me to a hospital. When I was inside I saw Niki lying in a bed. In front of him there was a table with food. “Oh, my God”, I said, “I thought you were dead.” “So did I”, said Niky, “Even worse, I thought you had been caught.” So the two of us were together again. There were reporters, pictures were taken, interviews, questions were asked.  The next day we were given same newspapers. One of them had a front page report with a large heading: Dramatic escape of two Bulgarians.

In Latina there was a camp for refugees from the socialist countries – Poland, Bulgaria, Eastern Germany and others. The most difficult thing for me to do was ringing up my mother in Bulgaria.

This was the beginning of my immigrant life….

I had had this idea long before I left Bulgaria. If I were to reach Australia, I would get hold of a horse and ride on horseback across the whole continent of Australia.

It was around the year 1972. I met two Yugoslavian brothers who were preparing for crocodile hunting trip to the Northen Territory. Hunting them had just been prohibited, this is why a square inch of crocodile skin cost one pound, i.e. approximately seven dollars. You can imagine how much money you could make in one day on shooting 5-6 crocodiles. We also met another Bulgarian who ran a Hunting shop for rifles and other hunting accessories. There I bought a 22-caliber Magnum. The brothers had Russian rifles, also 22-caliber. What made the risk even higher was that the guns were loaded with one single cartridge. We hit the road towards Northern Territory. You could hardly call it a road – it was just traces from previous cars and some pegs. There was neither asphalt, nor any other coverage. Even though our car was not a four-wheel, we headed for the aria named Port Pirie. There was an abandoned fish station there. Before reaching it, we were overtaken by a police car. We stop “Where do you want to get hereabout in such a car? You’ll get stuck and we’ll have to search for you. We can escort you back.” I said: “Oh, no, we want to continue on our way.” “If so, you have to sign in order to certify we have warned you.” 

When we reached Port Pirie, we saw there a large barn and an old Volkswagen inside cover with two centimeters of dust. Installation for drying fish, cans – everything abandoned. That became our base.

We did a lot of crocodile hunting, but it was hard work. It was not that much a matter of the dangers, as you walk through the water dipped up to the waist, with a rifle in hand and a miner’s lamp on the head. From time to time you turn on the lamp and you can see the crocodile’s eyes. Depending on the distance between the eyes, you judge how big the crocodile is. Then you turn off the lamp and try and get as close as possible to him. When you estimate the distance at 5, at the most 10 meters from him, you get ready and aim. Then you press the button and the lamp turns on. You usually have one and a half up to two seconds to shoot before the crocodile sinks, as he immediately dips into the water. If your shot isn’t well targeted, you are the one who, in the best case, will lose a leg. It was not pleasant, either, when we had to strip off their skins. As crocodile feed themselves at night, we started our hunting at about 12 o’clock and carried on till daybreak. Then we had to very quickly strip off the skins and clean the underneath fat, as the day temperature reached 40^o. Then we covered the skins with a lot of salt, rolled them up, and had them ready for sale.

We stayed in Port Pirie for 3-4 weeks and then went back to Darwin. We sold the skins illegally. The prohibited trading in these skins made their price even higher. I don’t know how come that the two brothers made up their minds to once again go hunting in a river called Adelaide river. It was near Darwin. I no longer recall why I didn’t join them; they made it for the river and one of them didn’t come back.

I didn’t perceive the risks. I was aware that if a big crocodile attacked you, it could be the end of you. It was, however, the same feeling I had while crossing the border.

Five years ago I brought a baby crocodile. We had a deal and I took him. Now the crocodile has grown up to almost three meters. I am very much used to him and the first thing I ask, after having been away from home, is: “How is my crockie doing? Is he OK? It’s not that I trust him that much, but he has become a member of the family.”

When you are 22-23 you believe you are untouchable, you imagine yourself out of any danger.  It’s called “adrenaline”. When the adrenaline goes up into your brain, the feeling of fear is gone. You feel as if it were a kind of a game you were playing with nature, without understanding it’s a life and death game. If a five-meter crocodile attacks you, the chance of surviving is almost null. There it goes!

I read a lot of books about   Papua New Guinea. I had to understand the people’s way there. I had to learn to work with them.

Each river has its own way for depositing the gold. There is no such thing as two identical rivers. This is why you have to be learning all the time, and whenever I go to a new place, I observe the changes and investigate where the gold is to be found. This is what makes you a success story or a failure. On the other hand, the equipment. If you have a good dredge. you stand more chances of a better gold recovery. There is a lot of gold up in this river. Saying “a lot” I mean millions of dollars. The local people will gradually learn how to use the gold dredges and will have a good life from the gold production.

After reading the book “The River of Gold” I got so enthusiastic about it, that I made up my mind to go out there and try my luck. It took me about 6 years to know for sure that it is this I want to do for a living.

In the beginning, at the Proserpine river on one of the islands, when the weather was bad and I couldn’t go diving with the tourists, I would go up in the mountains – just with a shovel  and a gold pen. I had little knowledge then and I found nothing. Later on I bought a device for sucking mud and stones. I imagined that the machine and my diving bottles would bring me luck. I went back to the Proserpine river and there I found a small piece. Although I was not sure it was gold, it made me very happy. I put it in a bottle with water and there it looked ten times bigger. Thus, trip after trip, in about 6-7 months I filled up half of this container – a small cylinder where I  stored the films – with gold flakes . I took it to a person I knew in Mackay. He took a look at it and said: “I give you three thousand dollars for it. This money could buy me a new car at that time. I could hardly believe it at first, as I had taken terrific pleasure in extracting it. You can see what the conditions are. The river was my office.  You set your tent over there and you dive for 7-8 hours in the clean waters every day. You can end up with having ten thousand, why not a hundred thousand dollars made by gold adventure or Diving for Gold

You live for the adventure and it brings you gold, which feeds you and ensures you a decent life. The jungles in New York and the jungles in European cities are much more dangerous than the jungles out here.

Gold prospecting is a combination of a hobby, passion and adventure. It allows you to work for yourself. You rely on your own capacity and the river is your bank. And, there are so many rivers across the world!!!

When you get to know gold prospectors – they will let you know something that has always been the case with me – you will understand what they are made from. While you may have been friends with someone for 20 or 30 years, you come to know what he’s made from only when you get him involved in the gold business. I’ve had cases where I’ve made friends and kept the friendship, while there have been lots of friends I’ have lost because of the gold fever! 

The power of gold is not only in the money it represent, but rather in the very fact that it’s been associated with man ever since man came into existence.

These nuggets are on the bottom. All of a sudden you catch sight of something incredible. A gold nugget that has never been touched by a man’s hand. It gives you a terrific feel. Your hand is the first hand that has ever touched it. This takes you millions of years back into the past – you are the first one to see it! It emits  an unusual glitter which later on disappears. It is no longer the same as time passes. You keep forever the memory of the first glimpse of it under the water.

Gold, similar to religion, is linked to blood due to the numerous wars that have been waged. Here is, however, a piece that can in no way be associated to blood, as it’s never had an encounter with a human being a very nice nugget!

In reality, it has always been with man. It is precious not only because it’s rare, but because if you are persistent enough you are in for innumerable opportunities to ensure your own financial power. Not to be a slave to the Banks!

I don’t wear gold rings or jewelry, but it gives me great pleasure to sometimes take a seat and look at the pieces I have collected and preserved over many years. In particular, a piece for which though I was offered a lot of money, I refused to sell it. Whenever I am alone, I take it out and it makes these thirty years disappear. My memory once again takes me back to where I found it. I recall how I spent that day and how the piece turned up. I call it “Madonna” as it looks like her. It has no price for me. There is hardly any other item in the world to have been with man for so many years and will with him as long as the planet exists. 

What I could say about myself is one single thing, which is similar to a slogan I do remember – “In this world there should also be people like myself.” These people believe in gold and freedom to live their lives independent from the concrete jungles, neither by the rules of governments nor by the rules for most people in the world. I have found a small place for myself in this world where the rules are entirely different and they help me live without being a hurdle to the others.

There are destinies and things in life which are not your choice; It is life that makes the choice for you. Without feeling proud of what I have done, I can say for sure that if I were to do it again, I would do the same. If a man is not happy with the place where he lives, it is up to him to find a place on the earth where he will feel good and happy with his life. I have found Papua New Guinea and the Gold!