Rapa Nui

important terms:
moai = giant statues
ahu = ceremonial platforms
ana = caves
rano = lake

learn Rapanui:
iorana = hello/goodbye
pehe koe? = how are you?
riva riva = very good
maururu = thank you

"The Rapanui culture has changed a lot over time," he said, "but we are a people of the land, and we will continue to live that way." "What do you think will happen in the future?" I asked. "The future? We don't think about the future. As Rapanui we think about our past, and we think day to day." I was sitting on a cliff with Matu'a, a member of the family that runs the hostel where I was staying. He came to the hostel my first night to eat dinner with his family and gladly obliged when I asked him to teach me some words in Rapanui. The next morning I was planning on going on a hike, but he offered to show me around on horseback. That's an offer you can't refuse! We rode along the ocean and stopped at another family member's house. Before I knew it, I was beading shell necklaces to sell at the market. For lunch, they fed me every tuber imaginable. Then their ancient bedridden uncle started singing Rapanui songs, and the afternoon was spent beading and singing. In the evening we rode back the same way, this time watching the sunset over Ahu Tahai (where I ended up watching the sunset every evening). A wonderful first day! I am the type of person who generally likes to have things planned out, but I am continually discovering the rewards of being flexible and open to other possibilities. As Matu'a says, if someone gives you a good offer, don't hesitate. Just say yes.

So how did the first people come to Rapa Nui? So the legend goes...King Hotu was living with his people on an island called Hiva. Hotu had six sons and a sister named Avareipua. One night, a wise man on the island named Haumaka had a prophetic dream; he saw a new island on the face of the sun. He informed Hotu of this vision, and the king sent seven explorers to make sure the island would be fitting. When Hotu passed away, his son Matu'a ascended to the throne. Matu'a took his father's name in memory and became Hotu Matu'a. And so it was that Hotu Matu'a was the first king on Rapa Nui. Of all the moai on the island, almost all face the village in protection. Only a group of seven faces the sea. These are the explorers, gazing toward the source from which they came.

Nearly everyone on the island is native Rapanui. They learn Rapanui as their first language and Spanish in school. Many people also speak some English or French because of the large number of tourists. Although the island is "owned" by Chile, the islanders aren't in any way South American. They will all tell you that they are just Rapanui, part of the Polynesian islands. Like most indigenous groups, the Rapanui have a history of being exploited: enslaved by Peruvians, converted by missionaries, sold to an English company, annexed by Chile, etc. But don't let that fool you. They are a thriving culture intent on maintaining their identity and connection with the land. It's easy to see why the 3800 residents have their eyes set on autonomy.

The islanders constructed the moai roughly one thousand years ago, in order to revere their king and honor their ancestors. There are 887 in total, ranging in height from 8 to 70 feet and with an average weight of 12 tons. The great mystery is how the moai were transported throughout the island. Most people hypothesize that the Rapanui used various rolling and raising mechanisms, perhaps moving the moai horizontally but probably vertically. Others say the moai walked using mana, a supernatural power. Some moai sit partially carved, while many have been raised on ahu, ceremonial platforms that also served to hold deceased ancestors.

Rapa Nui consists of one small town, Hanga Roa. The island felt huge when I set out each day but small in the sense that I continually saw the same people around the island. The man unloading bags at the airport turns out to be Matu'a's cousin. The woman I meet at the snack shop owns the store next to my hostel. The man I see at an ahu site is the same one leading soccer practice later that day. People always greet each other, and there's a definite culture of warmth and consideration for others.

The island is famous for its moai, which are surely incredible, but I was also pleasantly and intensely struck by the beautiful landscape (see uploaded video!). My second day, I ended up hiking from 10 am - 7 pm. I walked uphill to Rano Kau, a huge crater lake and one of three extinct volcanoes that formed the island. From there I headed to Orongo Ceremonial Village, full of petroglyphs and small stone houses. As moai construction was decreasing, islanders started revering the Make-Make god and created the Birdman Cult. Each spring, they came to Orongo to determine the next year's birdman chief. For this competition, the islanders swam to the Motu Nui islet to await the nesting of the sooty tern bird. Whoever captured the first egg and swam back to the island was crowned the honorable Birdman for the year. And you thought we had an interesting electoral system! I hiked down a different route, and everytime a tour group passed me in their car, I felt mighty glad to be walking and truly taking it all in.

The next day, I set out on a rented bike and cruised (well, went slowly due to the steep rocky roads and headwind) along the coastline. After biking over rocks on a never-ending dirt road, I hit the paved road. Around the bend was the bluest, most spectacular ocean I've ever seen. For many stretches at a time, I could see no other human or vehicle. I embraced this solo adventure: me, my bike, and the open road. I took my time and stopped often to peer over the cliffs at the ocean. At one stop, I saw a group of people snorkeling. One of the men came up out of the sea, fish in hand, and ripped off a chunk for me to taste. Can't get any fresher than that! I had thought they were snorkeling for entertainment, but they were catching fish to sell in the market. It is this kind of experience that graces many of my days, and I am continually grateful to be traveling alone. In this manner of solo travel I talk to more people, am more approachable, speak more Spanish, observe more, think more, figure things out on my own more, listen more, reflect more...

I continued biking to Rano Raraku, the volcanic quarry crater where nearly all the moai were carved. It contains moai in all stages of production, and after climbing to the summit you are rewarded with views of an enormous crater lake. When I climbed down at 4 pm, I realized that it would be pretty hard to bike back before it got dark. I asked a nearby tour guide the best route, but he said it was too far and offered to take me (and my bike) along with the rest of his group. So I had a couple hours of a free tour. Though I learned some interesting history, I must say I'm glad I never signed up for an official tour. It it too prescribed for me; I relish the freedom to explore and stop when something strikes my attention. And I easily listened in on the tours when I wanted more information and gathered most of my information from informal conversations with islanders.

One of my last days on the island, I rented a moped from my hostel. It was my first time riding one, and I think I'm hooked! Yes, Mom and Dad, I wore a helmet. Again, there were many times where the only other person I saw was myself. What joyous freedom. I started out on the same route I had biked (man does it fly by on a moped!) and rode to Ahu Tongariki, the massive ahu sporting 15 moai. It was neat to see and even more meaningful after I waited for the other tourists to leave. I headed to Ahu Akivi, the 7 moai looking out at the sea. From there I climbed the highest point on the island, the extint volcano Terevaka. The summit was the windiest place I've ever experienced! At one point I had to sit down because I thought I might blow over. I descended, scarfed down a sandwich, and hopped back on the moped. I stopped at Ana Te Pahu caves, which I only explored briefly because there's not much to look at when it's pitch black! Back on the moped and finished the day riding into the sunset over the ocean. Now that's an amazing rush.

I had been anxious beforehand that my expectations were too high for this trip, but my week exceeded all expectations. It also turned out to be a pretty spiritual experience, what with spending long stretches hiking/biking/mopeding/climbing on my own and embracing the Rapanui connection to ancestors and the land. I am looking forward to Mendoza and curious as to what it will bring but missing Rapa Nui at the same time: the depth of the landscape, the beauty of the people, the blue of the ocean, the humbling sense of the moai, the intense solo experience. It was truly astounding.

Iorana...