Touching the Glory

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I sit here this morning looking out the window at coconut palms. I can hear the waves of the South Pacific Ocean crash in the distance. I am aware of a nostalgic island smell on this gray day on Santo. I am very much at peace and yet I still let things bother me. Like missed opportunities and the inevitable sting that comes from thinking about what might have been.

Two chickens and a villager walk by. I have seen one young child, about 5 years old, walk by with a machete that was bigger than he was. I feel I need to get back home to see what the future and “real life” will bring to me. But then again, sitting this grass-thatched hut seems so right. Paradise, a great place to think.

“You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts” -Khahil Gibson


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It is now nighttime in the Ni-Van village of Metandis. Idyllic. What a day. It is not every day that your dreams come true exactly as you had dreamt. Today I walked along dark dirt paths through an island village as friendly villagers peered out of their huts to say hello and greet the new visitors that morning had brought. There were the frizzy headed kids of the Thin Red Line, the movie that had initially inspired me to seek out my own South Pacific adventure.

After this it was down to the black sand beach. The kids were splashing around with their big white smiles, laughing and completely carefree. We taught them how to play Frisbee and we all played a game together where we dove around in the sea trying to prevent the whirling disc from hitting the water. It was cool how some tried to copy our mannerisms as we played this game. I couldn’t believe that everything I wanted had come true. Here I was swimming in the South Pacific in my cargo shorts playing with the kids of Melanesia just like I had envisioned. It gives me hope that dreams can come true. Sort of like if you can visualize it then it can happen.

Later in the evening it was off to dinner. We had been invited to dinner at the house of a villager. We stepped into the dark smoky hut and sat ourselves down on a grass mat. Laplap, a traditional Ni-Van food, smoldered in the stone oven. The stone oven was actually a pit with hot stones and broad palm leaves. After saying grace we sat down and ate and everyone storied on in Bislama. Since I was the only one who could not speak the native language I mostly sat back and took in the whole fire lit atmosphere.

After dinner and stories we excused ourselves from the hut and made our way passed the village Nakamal to the black sand beach again. This time the beach glimmered under the murky light of the moon. The three of us sat there in the moonlight on the soft sand and just marveled at where we were. And I got to thinking, so this is the South Seas of legend. This is the siren song that had lured sailors into staying and leaving their homes behind. Amazing.




Note: My Vanuatu trip directly follows The Aussie Diaries. These entries come directly unabridged from the journal I carried around with me on my first post-university adventure to the southern hemisphere. They are a bit on the rough side. Also, I will reorganize and add more photos when I finished putting in all the other Vanuatu entries.


added december 30, 2005

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Photos

South Seas
The day felt like a dream.

Palms