In the jungle, the mighty jungle......
They had been flying a few thousand feet above the rain forest somewhere in South Sumatra on the flight to Singapore via Phnom Pen & Bangkok. A rather long detour but the only immediate possibility as she hadn't wanted to wait another 3 days for a more direct flight home without changing planes.
Joanna was about to take another mouthful of lukewarm coffee from a paper cup when the DC7 suddenly lurched forward and twisted to the left. The engine outside her window burst into flames and within seconds they were rapidly losing height. They had crashed through the canopy of the jungle ripping off one of the wings and soaking the nearby trees in high octane fuel, causing them to burst into flames.
The plane had come to rest a few hundred yards from where it had first entered the jungle, tearing a path through the undergrowth, causing birds, monkeys and other wild creatures to screech, squeal and flee. No doubt destroying whole families of orchids and generations of brightly coloured insects and butterflies.
The fuselage was ripped open and some of the contents strewn along its track of destruction. Suitcases, clothes, books, electrical devices, wires, a plane seat, magazines, paper cups, fragments of food, other parts of the plane and its pieces broken and torn from the impact, ripped open and thrown clear of the mass of twisted metal.
But not the bodies of the pilot and co-pilot, they were still in the cockpit. Their lives had ended suddenly in the initial impact when a branch of mahogany had smashed through the front glass killing them both but apparently no sign of smashed body parts, internal organs, blood or mucus from the passengers. In fact no sign of them in the plane at all……
The smoke and flames from the burning trees hadn’t lasted. It was the beginning of the monsoon season and in the rain forest nothing burns for long even when soaked in high octane fuel.
The agonising wail of the plane crash died away, reverberating for a few seconds through the space of the forest before disappearing into the green distance.
A moment of total silence and then, sounds had begun to creep back. The chatter of the monkeys, the hum of large bees, the chirruping of beetles and other insects, songs of parrots, macaws and the melodious croaking of bull frogs. The endless dripping of water.
Underneath these noises of the forest was a new one. The low pitched moan of a woman sobbing. Joanna overwhelmed by the enormity of what had happened to her and that she was alive. By some miracle thrown clear of the wreckage to land face down in a small bush covered in white sweet scented flowers. Her body though bruised and scratched was mostly undamaged, her clothing torn and her hair singed but unmistakably, yes, she was living and breathing though only just conscious.
Sitting a few feet away from her was a small paraqueet with brightly coloured feathers of blue, yellow and green & a red beak. It seemed to be studying her intensely with its sharp green eyes. Then it spread its wings, sang a short sweet melody, flew across her body, brushing her face gently with the tip of one wing before disappearing into the trees above.
In this state of semi consciousness, turning slowly onto her back amidst the soft leaves and small branches where she had landed, gazing up through the thick green foliage at the few patches of sky high above the jungle roof she had relived the 36 hours or so before she had been thrown from the plane.
What seemed from her place on the jungle floor a lifetime ago..........
After her initial doubts she had actually enjoyed the 5 day long conference in Bali which had the unusual title of:-
Anthroposcience (An investigation into the links between 20th Century science & ancient belief systems).
Most of the talks, discussions & presentations on anthropology, semantics, philosophy & various strands of science had been interesting or at least not boring. There were people from all over the planet, a wide range of ages, disciplines & backgrounds.
There had been one presentation in particular, complete with beautifully realised hand drawn animation slides on something the author & presenter called Future Anthropology that had really engaged her. A wide ranging overview of where the human race, its consciousness and awareness might be heading. Joanna had found it fascinating with it’s mix of history, biology, anthropology & mythology, so she and the young Canadian woman called Sabrina whose work it was had spent an hour or so together over a delicious meal of balinese satay vegetables & tempeh in the hotel restaurant talking about their work.
Joanna had learnt that Sabrina was of Native American descent, had studied Sociology & Anthropology at Montreal University, done an MA & Phd in Mythology & Anthropology at Harvard & spent the last 6 months travelling slowly from Canada to Bali via Europe & India visiting as she described it "some of the remnants of tribal peoples & shamanic cultures on the way".
They had talked about how their work had parallels and resonances. They had agreed to keep in touch, maybe even to investigate the possibility of finding some funding to work together. Neither of them were too sure what form or shape that might take but they immediately liked each other & found it easy to communicate ideas & feelings. They had a short time in which to speak as Sabrina was only there for the first 3 days of the conference & her plane was leaving from Ngurah Rai airport later that afternoon . She had stopped off in Bali on her way to Australia to spend some time with her uncle William who she hadn't seen for nearly 20 years.
Joanna had been sorry to see her go but was sure that they would meet up again. She knew that Dorothy & Sabrina would like each other. They’d exchanged addresses & phone numbers just before Sabrina had left to pack & get in a taxi to the airport.
“Wow. Is that the time? I better get a move on. Not much to pack though. I always travel light. It’s been so good to meet you. I'm sorry that I'll miss your presentation but please send me a copy. I'd love to read it. Now I really must go or I'll miss my flight and William will have driven a few hundred miles to pick me up from the airport so wont be happy if I'm on a different plane"
She gave Joanna a big hug & was quickly out of the restaurant and running across the beach towards her cabin in a matter of seconds. That was the last Joanna saw of her in Bali.....though they would meet again in rather different circumstances.
The hotel & conference centre where Anthroposcience was happening was beautiful. Joanna had decided that was really the only way to describe it when she spoke briefly to Dorothy & David on her third day there before they were cut off & she was unable to contact them again. Some problem apparently with the new high speed ocean bed phone cable that had recently been installed from Australia to Europe.
“This is an amazing place. I mean the whole island is beautiful, it’s just beginning to get on the tourist map. Really the perfect choice for a conference where you’ve got delegates from Australia, Asia, Europe, the States & even some from Africa. We’re all staying in individual cabins. Simple but clean & comfortable with soft beds, warm showers & amazing views out onto the beach and the bay beyond. I’ve been swimming every morning. The water is so warm & clear. You’d both love it here”
“Dad’s booking us on the next flight out then !”
“Darling I’ll be back soon. But we really should get a plan together for a family holiday here asap. The rest of the hotel is a couple of large simple wooden buildings, one is where the restaurant & bar are & the other where the conference events happen. Light pouring in through the windows all round the buildings during the daytime though there are blinds if it gets too bright & lots of fans to cool us down. When the sun goes down the restaurant & bar are mostly lit by candles & lamps, the sunsets here are truly amazing. They’ve got generators going all day & night in the other space for the conference events. Some of the workshop sessions have been running on into the early hours of the morning”
“How’s the weather Mum?”
“Kind of humid but not too bad. It's between monsoons at the moment though they've already started further north in Thailand . I found it difficult to sleep the first couple of nights. Not just the heat but the noise from the jungle behind. A real crazy symphony of creatures”
“Good food?”
“You’d love it David. So much fresh fruit available all the time with delicious Balinese vegetarian dishes throughout the day. I may even have put on some weight. Lots of alcohol of course but I’ve noticed that quite a few of the delegates stay sober so I’m enjoying not being the only teetotaller in the place. But enough of me how are you two doing? ”
“Dads just gone to get something from the kitchen. Mum I was going to ask you if……..”
There the call had ended. She’d tried to get through to them for the last 2 days of the conference and the rest of the time she was there but the receptionist in the beautiful reception cabin at the entrance to the hotel decorated with Balinese sculptures & bright paintings had told her that the problem with phone calls out of Bali could take a while to solve though it might be possible to route her call via Australia & the USA &…..but Joanna had decided that possibility wasn’t one she wanted to pursue when she’d learnt the price.
Her own presentation & follow up discussion had gone well. There’d been a good number in the audience. Most of them she hadn’t known with a scattering of others who she'd got to know a little during their time there & a physicist from Nairobi who David had been at university with.
Her paper called "Tantra, Taoism & sub-molecular physics" had caused quite a stir in the audience with some rather hostile questions and dismissal of her ideas or, as she saw it, suggestions about links between modern discoveries in physics and ancient cosmologies. Some of the questions had been supportive, intelligent & interested and the discussion afterwards had been really exciting. In fact she was sorry the conference was ending that night with many of the participants leaving in the afternoon or early the following morning on long flights back to academic & scientific institutions scattered across the globe.
She spent another 2 days in the hotel which was almost empty, except for a few delegates who like her had decided to stay on in Bali for a short holiday after the conference ended, most of the time on her own. Occasionally eating at the same table as a young recently married French couple called Artur & Michelin. They lived in a village outside the cathedral town of Chartres and had decided to spend their honeymoon on Bali before the conference, then attend it as he was an anthropologist & she a molecular chemist. They had intended to fly back to Europe via Australia but were so taken with Bali they'd rebooked their flight & were spending another 2 weeks snorkelling & scuba diving in the bay before setting off on a slow trip round the island before flying to Avignon via Paris to visit his mother. She'd connected easily with both of them & they'd spent a day together scuba diving at the far end of the bay. When they'd asked her if she would like to join them she had initially resisted saying that they were on their honeymoon for heaven's sake but they had laughed and told her that by this stage they could really do with some company.
She was so glad she had accepted their invitation. Immersed for hours in the clear waters of the sea surrounded by the shimmering colours, shapes, sizes & varieties of thousands upon thousands of fish, waves and seascapes rising and falling into the white sand below. Occasionally taking a deep breath through the snorkel before diving down to swim through the shoals of fish who seemed to have no fear of her. She was exhausted by the time they got back to the hotel, had said goodbye to Michelle & Artur, who were leaving that evening to start a couple of days scuba diving off one of the small islands up the coast. They had exchanged addresses, phone numbers & emails with intentions to meet up again in France or England. She had returned to her cabin, packed her bag and then fallen onto the bed into a deep almost dreamless sleep.
One powerful fragment of a single dream had stayed with her when she woke early the next morning. She had sat with it for a few moments as it faded before eating a slow breakfast of papaya, passion fruit, mango, banana & coconut milk in the restaurant, paying her bill at reception, receiving a hug and namaste from the receptionist, ordering a taxi to take her into Denpasar where she had arranged to meet Paul to travel with him out of the city to a small village just outside the town of Ubung where the wayang was to take place.
She had looked over her shoulder as the taxi drove down the driveway between the avenue of coconut trees to the 2 long wooden buildings as they disappeared behind the gentle rise towards the sea & wondered if she would ever be there again.
She shook her head. No time to think about any of that. Just get up, back into the plane and then somehow out of the jungle....
Night had fallen suddenly as it always does so close to the equator, a wild splash of light and colour towards the blackness of a moonless night. She had managed to make it back to the plane, hobbling along with her bruised and battered body aching in many places, after a preliminary exploration of the jungle around the crash location before complete darkness engulfed the dripping green foliage and a whole new collection of animal and insect sounds filled the tepid air.
She had spent a sleepless night in the rear part of the plane with the sound of constant rain drumming against the metal fuselage making sleep impossible. Her brain full of thoughts and images while her body was overcome by momentary rushes of total terror. In this sleepless zone she had however been able to make plans. These had run along the lines of waiting till daylight and then carrying out a thorough search of the plane to see what resources and equipment it contained, particularly if there were any wireless or other electrical parts still working that could get her back in contact with the outside world.
She had also realised that she would have to do something about the bodies of the pilot and co-pilot, who she remembered had also doubled as steward on their flight, bringing her cups of coffee and a rather tasty nazee goreng which she had finished. He had taken the empty bowls away bringing her a cup of coffee in a paper mug just before the plane had crashed. She would also need to find out what had happened to the other passengers, though in the short time it had taken her to climb through the twisted fuselage of the plane she didn't remember seeing any other bodies in the chaos of broken seats and torn wiring in the rear section. She figured that the longer the bodies stayed and decayed, which in this extreme heat they were already starting to do, the more likely it was that wild animals would take the scent and get into the plane. She shuddered slightly at the thought of leopards, wild dogs or snakes finding their way in. She was sure that there must be a fairly basic supply of food and drink on board. It was just a matter of how much of it was perishable and if any of it was dried or tinned.
As light began to seep into the plane through the cracks in the shattered windows and the large hole in the middle of the fuselage where a tree branch had ripped through it as the plane descended into the jungle she dragged herself out of the reclining chair where she had passed her sleepless night and began the tasks she had set herself.
It was only with difficulty that she had managed to pull open the door into the cockpit where she had found the bodies of the pilot and co-pilot . The pilot was obviously dead and beginning to smell unpleasant but had no visible signs of damage on him other than a trickle of now encrusted blood from the corner of his mouth and a large bruise on his forehead. The copilots body had been smashed and ripped by the large branch that had torn through the front window of the cockpit and transfixed him to his seat. She had rushed out of there and just managed to get out the open side door before throwing up violently on the jungle floor. A column of large red ants had immediately headed for the partially digested breakfast of biscuits and dried fruit she had found in the galley and washed down with a carton of papaya juice only a few minutes earlier, answering one of her sleepless questions that there was a supply of dried & tinned food and long life fruit juice in cartons.
She would deal with disposing of the bodies of the pilots later in the day, though it was not something she could see herself being able to do at all, so she put it to the back of her mind for the moment, when it struck her again that there seemed to be no sign of the other passengers. She searched the rest of the plane but could find no corpses trapped beneath collapsed seats or wedged against crumpled bulkheads.
She was certain that there had been three other passengers on the flight with her. The DC5 was only equipped to carry 30 passengers, the rest of the internal space was for freight though on her flight those spaces had been empty apart from a couple of large wooden crates which were still lashed securely to the floor and the bulkheads in the middle section of the plane. She remembered thinking, from her aisle seat at the rear of the plane, how empty it was and had clearly seen the other passengers as they walked past her before take off to their seats two rows in front of her.
A tall slim Asian man in an immaculate blue grey silk suit with perfectly groomed black shoulder length hair parted in the middle and pulled back in a perfect pony tail probably in his late 40s.He had been accompanied by a striking looking blonde woman almost as tall as him in jeans and a bright white T Shirt with a full colour design of an angel in flames on the back. Joanna had noticed she had a pendant round her throat that glistened and caught the light. She had only briefly seen the third passenger who sat with them as he had arrived after them literally moments before the door was closed and the plane began to taxi down the runway. He brushed past her seat on his way up the aisle carrying a large black briefcase and could have been the twin of the other man as he was exactly the same height and from what she caught a glimpse of as he passed almost identical features, a strong resolute face with black eyebrows and deep brown eyes but with his head completely shaved. Smooth and stubble free. He wore a brightly coloured floral shirt in luminous blues and reds and a plain red sarong.
The three of them had spoken quietly together throughout the flight in a language she didn’t recognise, possibly Vietnamese or Finnish was her guess. They passed the briefcase between them and were studying something or some things in it, though from where she had been sitting she was unable to see anything other than the backs of their heads and an occasional side view of one of their faces when they turned to talk to their companions.
But there was no sign of any of them in the plane and she would certainly have seen their bodies the day before when she had taken that short walk around the crash scene before returning to the plane to sleep. No, she was certain they must have somehow survived the crash and gone….where?
She sat for a moment, struggling with what to do with the bodies of the pilots and whether there had really been three other passengers on the plane or if she was just suffering from concussion and imagining the whole thing or fast asleep in her bed at home and would soon waken from this vivid dream or.......
She took some slow deep breaths & began the steps of her mindfulness practice. Just as she was beginning the process of a body scan she remembered with total clarity her dream from the night before leaving the conference, as if it was right in front of her.
And that was it. Red's deep green eyes faded through light green to yellow to white & the dream had ended. She was back in the plane. She sat for a moment or two. Her breathing slow & measured. Letting her body feel how it was to be here without panic or anything other than 'this is how it is'.
Then she stood up and began to walk towards the front of the plane.
Close up of Joanna's face then pull out to follow her as she walks to the cockpit. Rips out compass. Travels back down the sloping gangway to a locker above a seat and pulls out a medium sized red hiking rucksack from which she begins to rapidly unpack clothes and drop them on the seat.
Slow zoom out to reveal length of plane interior, then pan up and through gash in top of the fuselage.
Pan down to show whole plane in crash site surrounded by jungle.
Long slow zoom/track out so that eventually plane disappears in the vastness of the jungle.
Fade to green...