Easter Island AKA One Happy Tourist At Least
In
the end I get a couple of fantastic days to rush around and be a tourist on
Easter Island. The weather co-operates and I pack my days as full as I can. I
take a guided tour, learn the history both ancient and more recent of the place
its people, see several impressive examples of the Moai, the statues, and the Ahu,
the platforms on which they rest, walk through the ancient villages past stone
chicken houses and garden plots, and marvel at the quarry where the Moai were
carved and where hundreds sit, finished, waiting, still, centuries later, to be
transported to their designated ocean-side sites. I walk along the waterfront in
the town past gift shops and restaurants and I visit the small but excellent museum.
I hike the beach in the other direction, past otherworldly lava landscape, and
then up the volcano itself through fields of tall pink grass, to the edge of
crater rim and peer down with amazement at the very circular pond full of jigsaw-like
floating grass islets reminiscent of ice blocks and visit the adjacent
reconstructed bird-man village. I gaze in awe at the landscapes and at the
archeological remains and I take a gazillion photos. I eat huge hot greasy tuna
empanadas. If where I want to go next is too far to walk I hitch-hike. I talk
to other tourists about their impressions of the island and to locals about their
life here. It is good, better than good, I am an excellent tourist and I love
every minute of it.
(Neither
Sven nor Lisa participate in any tourist activities. Sven drops Lisa and I off
at town each morning telling us he will pick us up again at 5 pm and returns to
the boat where puts his blog together and works on his finances (I don’t know
how rich he is but he did mention that he had to pay $400K in taxes last year)
and studies the weather for the coming week looking for a good window for us to
leave. Lisa seems uncertain why she is being dropped off, doesn’t join me in my
explorations, and always ends up calling Sven by noon each day, telling him who
knows what, resulting in his interrupting what he is doing and coming into town
to have lunch with her… Sven has been to Easter Island before, has seen all the
sights, had mentioned that he would like to see them again, but doesn’t manage
to find a day to so do. Lisa, I just don’t get at all. Is she happy with her
time here? As far as I can tell all she has done is buy postcards and go out to
lunch. Did she really have no desire to see the statues and the quarry and the
volcano craters? I am thrilled with my visit of the island, with how much
‘touristing’ I have fit into my time on land, but are they happy with their
visits here? It is hard to tell, impossible to ask, and will forever remain a
total mystery.)
