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on in this corner of the world where safety pins are shrunken heads. As I sat there, I thought about Ei rophesy that the fourth world war would be fought with nd stones. These dura ble Dani would survive, free from an umbil ical attachment to the modern world's money li ne. In his book Walden, Henry David Thoreau speaks of a "realometer, " a raw, instinctive gauge to detect our individual rtainty. Regularly, during my time with the Dani, my realomete as pinned to the maximum. Just as I was amazed by the Dani, ani are intrigued by western visitors. They got their first gl" an outsider when an American pilot crashed in the 5, high Grand Baliem Valley in 1938. Time remained irrelevant, ever, until a Dutch missionary settled in the Baliem in 1953-th eir isolation began to evaporate. While other forces over have inflicted religion and outside values on the Dani, I trie minimize my impact. I did however, introduce a toy. Upon entering a small vil lage one day, I strol led into courtyard and spun my Frisbee so that it hovered, then gradually descended into the huddle of people waiting to see what this object would do next. Some ran to it, others ran away from it and kept on running. This neon-blue flying disk landed for the fi rst ime in their primeval frontier. Initial ly, I was concerned that by introducing th is ga me, I was further adding to the ru ination of a raditional way of life that I felt desperately needed to be pre served. But the flying saucer captured thei r imaginations. were riveted by this exciti ng, simple thing that employs the basi principles of physics-a dandy pie tin meets UFO invention-and they rea lly enjoyed flinging it. I threw the Frisbee with the Dani and played naked too. fi rst my gourd was a discomfort (some of us wage a conti nuing rugg le against fashion). The string tied around my waist fa iled hold up the hardened vegetable case. It kept fumbling down rd and it itched. I don't like running barefoot across rocky fiel nd I was paranoid about injuring my scrotum. The Dani laughed. hey also laughed when I attended church. A tennis-court-sized wooden cabin with a corrugate metal roof was packed with nude worshippers. Women and smal hildren were on the left, men and boys on the right. A solitary battery-operated clock loomed above a makesh ift wood alta Behind the altar, the rambling preacher was the only person othe an me wearing clothes. Seated beside me was a man wearin only a gourd, a band of chicken feathers on his head and a c igarette stored in his large earlobe pierce. ing prayer time, eyes were closed and heads lowered. Dani cover both eyes with one hand during prayers so they don't go blind. First came the peek-a-boo looks at the funny white man, then the restrained library ch uck ling. Their little girls were absol utely shocked by my pres ence. After the service someone broke out a guitar and the real service began. I noticed that some of the women were missing digits. When someone in thei r immediate family d Dani women cut off a finger as part of the cremation emony. Men cut off a corner of their earlobe. This fad ing ustom continues, much to the chagrin of outsiders. at is it about " modern culture " that feels the need impose a foreign language, culture and re ligion on a people that living in communion deep in an impenetra ble forest? The voices of those interested in preserving is ancient culture is similar to that of an aspiring acto a tree fa lling in the forest-you're never sure if a body's going to hear you. The Baliem Valley, one of the richest biomass on the planet, is endangered by modern sorcery an hcraft such as mining, deforestation, g intrusion and inse nsitive tourism. Many of the valley vi lages can now be accessed by road or prop plane. The Indonesian government judges that the indigenous peo ple don't have a right to lay claim to land that's not being used. Evidently, farming, hunting and gathering don't count. While Irian Jaya's mineral and oil resources are bei ng exploited, the bleach ing of native tradition is underway. Gourds have not yet given way to clothes