Opals
There are boutiques on every cruise ship. I even venture to say there are jewelry shops on every cruise ship. With plenty of time to browse, most ladies on a cruise will visit those businesses. Oceania cruise ships have specialty jewelers as guest speakers to explain the finer points of each stone, setting or design. In Tahiti, for example, black pearls were explained and naturally sold, too. A collection of the finest pearls were offered. The color, the size, the roundness all add up to give each particular pearl it's value. On each island around Tahiti and as far away as Fiji black pearls are offered for sale. Yet, once aware of the subtle points one can easily see the better pearls. Carol opted to buy her black pearl in Tahiti before the cruise since she had asked lots of questions and studied what she liked for some time. Her purchase, I must say, is a great pearl. I had little to nothing to do with her final choice. She asked me of course what I thought of her buy, but it was really her who did the choosing. She did a great job and I believe she got a great product for the money she finally paid.
Near the end of our cruise, on the leg from Brisbane to Sydney, a jeweler gave a seminar on opals. The stone that shimmers in all kinds of colors when light hits it, but might look like a plain "rock" at the wrong angle. I did not know it but Carol has always wanted an opal. As a young woman she was given the opal of her grandmother. One day, during her almost daily ice skating practices, she discovered the stone had fallen out of the ring. No more opal. Of course she was upset then, so was her mother who also loved that stone. Opals do that to you, I am told. You get hooked on the display of the mufti colors one can see when studying the light reflected off the surface. So, years ago Carol said to herself that one day she will buy a new opal. And here she is on this cruise and the jeweler is explaining the finer points of this gem stone.
The best opals, the black opals, come from just one small area in Australia, a region known as Lightning Ridge. I am not sure if those 'lightings' had anything to do with the creations of these opals, but the stones found in that region are one of the rarest stones on earth. They are much, much rarer than diamonds for example. There are many opals; some look milky, some green. The whole description of the opal is a science. In addition, there are double or even triple "plated" opals that all add to the confusion created, no doubt, to fool the buyers or the uneducated. So it is important to deal with a reputable, trustworthy source before buying an opal. The jeweler invited by Oceania cruises is a member of the Australian Opal Society and this guy, Alex, knew his stuff. He owns his own business and is a 3rd generation stone cutter. Alex designed, manufactured and presented a special brooch to Lady Camilla, Prince Charles' latest wife. His reputation is impeccable. The examples he showed were outstandingly beautiful. So were his prices. Out of Carol's league. Or so we thought! Well, let me tell you a story that only providence can match.
The whole basis of our story is Macedonia, the birth place of Alexander the Great. Pun intended! Our Alex was born in a town near Zagorice, the town we visited while doing our Balkan trip in 2011. He was so happy that we visited his home county that he took some time out to explain in even more detail how opals are processed, polished and fabricated into jewelry. He even donned his apron, worked some sample rocks, polished the found opals within, etc. One story lead to another, one connection lead to others and we all had a great time at Alex's business on the 3rd floor of a building in Sydney. You see, we did not stop Alex and his sales pitch on the ship, we promised to see him in Sydney. We wanted to see what else he had to offer besides the very exclusive merchandise he had on the ship. Carol was intrigued and by now, so was I. There was just no other way anyhow, because once Carol's mind is set on something she pursues it with a vengeance. Carol wanted to find an opal to make up for the lost one she once had. Nothing was stopping Carol this time. I talked her out of buying an opal in Mexico a few years back, I did not know then the grandmother story, but this time, Carol's mind was made up. The two of them, Alex and Carol hit it off well. After some difficult choosing, after some alterations to the ring size on the spot, after much grinning and smiles Carol now has a black opal; the rarest gem in the word, certified to be from the Lighting Ridge Mine area. A fantastic, small wonder of the natural world. Congratulations Carol!
Friday, February 28, 2014
Posted with Blogsy
Sydney
Sydney
My amazement continues. Sydney as a city works well, all is very well organized and again, I did not see some obvious trash. Nor did I see beggars or derelicts. Carol and I spend 5 days in Sydney using only public transportation, we coved the neighborhoods and the touristy spots and travelled via ferry up and down the harbor. Sydney is clean and runs like a well oiled machine. The traffic connections worked well, the people are friendly and everybody works. I felt pride from some people in the work they did. There are two attendances on each ferry. The pilot or driver and then the person who ties the boat to the dock. I guess he is called a deck hand. It is team work, well rehearsed over many stops a day, the ferry approaches a stop at the right angle, the right speed and then the deck hand throws an arm thick rope over the bollocks imbedded in the wharf, and with practiced speed and accurate twists a stop knot is made over a similar bollock on the boat. The whole arrangement works like a slip knot that can be adjusted one way but will get tighter the other way. Ingenious but it works well. The Sydney harbor has many ferries, with many stops all over the spread out harbor. Ferries work like busses here. People get on and off. Ladies with baby carriages, business men, tourists with suitcases and even bicycle riders take their bikes from this end of the harbor to the next. We had our motel, the Neutral Bay Motor Lodge, in a neighborhood across from the main terminal, the circular quay. This motel really is in a very residential spot, on a busy road, but in a suburb of Sydney. Yet, a ferry runs every 20 minutes and after just three stops, or let's say 15 minutes we landed in the very center of Sydney, right next to the opera house. The whole of it never had a snafu. You can count on it to work to catch a train.
For $52,- a week, we bought an all inclusive ticket for bus, ferry, train and/or trolley. It is like hop on, hop off. Just swipe the card and all transportation is covered. For the few days we were in Sydney we did the tourist stuff. A guided tour of the famous opera house was great. The construction of this building is so unique and defies all practices of even today's architects. Four parts of a sphere were set on a flat surface to become the opera. The look from afar is of sails on a ship. But the construction is based on pure mathematics and a conceptualization of parts of that sphere in sections to give the structure this unique look.
The Danish architect Jorn Utzon, won an International design contest in the late 1950's and received the go ahead to start building his design concept. The original cost estimate was for 7 million dollars and a time span of 3 years. Because the building concept was so unique and the calculations still had to be made by hand, it took close to 16 years to finish the Opera House at a total cost of 107 million dollars. No one was very upset at the overages in costs since Australians understood that this building is a one of a kind. Also the cost of the building was paid off within a year after the inauguration by using a special lottery, similar to today's lotto.
The tour of the opera house was extensive and well done. We saw all three halls. The symphony hall, the actual opera hall and the theater. All were housed within this huge complex. Even though the style of the interior is now over 50 years old, it still looks ultra modern and chic. Carol and I were lucky, we were able to secure two seats for the Magic Flute Opera on Wednesday night. It was a full house when we attended the performance. The crowd was truly international. The design sets for the costumes were given to Sydney from the New York Metropolitan opera. It was an extraordinary performance using puppets as enhancements in relating the story line. The music, Mozart's masterpiece, was as divine as ever. I had fun. Naturally it rained buckets right after we stepped out of the theater but we dodged the raindrops and only got a little wet. We knew by now how to use all the overhangs and short cuts. We are becoming accustomed to Sydney. Sydney sure can grow on you and pull you into its intricate net of entertainment, fun and business life.
Darling harbor is part of the greater Sydney Harbour area. It is a planned section with tourist attractions and entertainment. Sections of the natural beauty of Australia have been recreated showing wild life unique to Australia along with a section of the great barrier reef. Of course there are tons of eateries. Everything conceivable could be had. There were museums, shopping, walking tours, sports, entertainment, food, nature, culture and history. Fun for the whole family. Carol and I just walked through the Aquarium section to see all the sea life around Australia and it took us a good 3 hours of walking. After a lunch to get our strength back, we were too spent to see more details, so we just sat and people watched nursing a lemonade.
Anybody could spend days here and not have seen it all. There are dinner cruises to be had, adventure walks, climbing the historic Harbor Bridge (a two hour upward climb to the top of the span for a stunning view of Sydney), exploring the old Queen Victoria Building and watching surfers at Bondi Beach. Come and do all of those things. Bring lots of money though because Sydney is not cheap. A cup of coffee is $4.95, a 500ml Nestea Iced Tea is $ 4.90. Bottle of plain water $ $2.50 to 3.00. You get the idea, I am sure.
The original settlement of Sydney, now called the 'Rocks' is a twisting laneway and roadway area near the Harbor Bridge. We spent Sunday walking the many small boutiques and flea market-like stalls and got lost on purpose in some back alleys. The name is apt, because huge boulders and rock formations are part of the house foundations. The old town was built in the style of good old England, about 1840 to 1890. One can make believe this is some town in Great Britain and not the more modern Australia one finds today. Sydney today is sky scrapers, office buildings, neon lights and well organized traffic. A totally modern, world class city. The hub of commerce, yet not the capital of Australia, which is Canberra, about five hours away from here. It is similar to Toronto in Canada, with Ottawa also that far away from the trading hub.
Sydney is worth a trip, you will not regret a visit. Lots to do, lots to learn, lots to see.
My amazement continues. Sydney as a city works well, all is very well organized and again, I did not see some obvious trash. Nor did I see beggars or derelicts. Carol and I spend 5 days in Sydney using only public transportation, we coved the neighborhoods and the touristy spots and travelled via ferry up and down the harbor. Sydney is clean and runs like a well oiled machine. The traffic connections worked well, the people are friendly and everybody works. I felt pride from some people in the work they did. There are two attendances on each ferry. The pilot or driver and then the person who ties the boat to the dock. I guess he is called a deck hand. It is team work, well rehearsed over many stops a day, the ferry approaches a stop at the right angle, the right speed and then the deck hand throws an arm thick rope over the bollocks imbedded in the wharf, and with practiced speed and accurate twists a stop knot is made over a similar bollock on the boat. The whole arrangement works like a slip knot that can be adjusted one way but will get tighter the other way. Ingenious but it works well. The Sydney harbor has many ferries, with many stops all over the spread out harbor. Ferries work like busses here. People get on and off. Ladies with baby carriages, business men, tourists with suitcases and even bicycle riders take their bikes from this end of the harbor to the next. We had our motel, the Neutral Bay Motor Lodge, in a neighborhood across from the main terminal, the circular quay. This motel really is in a very residential spot, on a busy road, but in a suburb of Sydney. Yet, a ferry runs every 20 minutes and after just three stops, or let's say 15 minutes we landed in the very center of Sydney, right next to the opera house. The whole of it never had a snafu. You can count on it to work to catch a train.
For $52,- a week, we bought an all inclusive ticket for bus, ferry, train and/or trolley. It is like hop on, hop off. Just swipe the card and all transportation is covered. For the few days we were in Sydney we did the tourist stuff. A guided tour of the famous opera house was great. The construction of this building is so unique and defies all practices of even today's architects. Four parts of a sphere were set on a flat surface to become the opera. The look from afar is of sails on a ship. But the construction is based on pure mathematics and a conceptualization of parts of that sphere in sections to give the structure this unique look.
The Danish architect Jorn Utzon, won an International design contest in the late 1950's and received the go ahead to start building his design concept. The original cost estimate was for 7 million dollars and a time span of 3 years. Because the building concept was so unique and the calculations still had to be made by hand, it took close to 16 years to finish the Opera House at a total cost of 107 million dollars. No one was very upset at the overages in costs since Australians understood that this building is a one of a kind. Also the cost of the building was paid off within a year after the inauguration by using a special lottery, similar to today's lotto.
The tour of the opera house was extensive and well done. We saw all three halls. The symphony hall, the actual opera hall and the theater. All were housed within this huge complex. Even though the style of the interior is now over 50 years old, it still looks ultra modern and chic. Carol and I were lucky, we were able to secure two seats for the Magic Flute Opera on Wednesday night. It was a full house when we attended the performance. The crowd was truly international. The design sets for the costumes were given to Sydney from the New York Metropolitan opera. It was an extraordinary performance using puppets as enhancements in relating the story line. The music, Mozart's masterpiece, was as divine as ever. I had fun. Naturally it rained buckets right after we stepped out of the theater but we dodged the raindrops and only got a little wet. We knew by now how to use all the overhangs and short cuts. We are becoming accustomed to Sydney. Sydney sure can grow on you and pull you into its intricate net of entertainment, fun and business life.
Darling harbor is part of the greater Sydney Harbour area. It is a planned section with tourist attractions and entertainment. Sections of the natural beauty of Australia have been recreated showing wild life unique to Australia along with a section of the great barrier reef. Of course there are tons of eateries. Everything conceivable could be had. There were museums, shopping, walking tours, sports, entertainment, food, nature, culture and history. Fun for the whole family. Carol and I just walked through the Aquarium section to see all the sea life around Australia and it took us a good 3 hours of walking. After a lunch to get our strength back, we were too spent to see more details, so we just sat and people watched nursing a lemonade.
Anybody could spend days here and not have seen it all. There are dinner cruises to be had, adventure walks, climbing the historic Harbor Bridge (a two hour upward climb to the top of the span for a stunning view of Sydney), exploring the old Queen Victoria Building and watching surfers at Bondi Beach. Come and do all of those things. Bring lots of money though because Sydney is not cheap. A cup of coffee is $4.95, a 500ml Nestea Iced Tea is $ 4.90. Bottle of plain water $ $2.50 to 3.00. You get the idea, I am sure.
The original settlement of Sydney, now called the 'Rocks' is a twisting laneway and roadway area near the Harbor Bridge. We spent Sunday walking the many small boutiques and flea market-like stalls and got lost on purpose in some back alleys. The name is apt, because huge boulders and rock formations are part of the house foundations. The old town was built in the style of good old England, about 1840 to 1890. One can make believe this is some town in Great Britain and not the more modern Australia one finds today. Sydney today is sky scrapers, office buildings, neon lights and well organized traffic. A totally modern, world class city. The hub of commerce, yet not the capital of Australia, which is Canberra, about five hours away from here. It is similar to Toronto in Canada, with Ottawa also that far away from the trading hub.
Sydney is worth a trip, you will not regret a visit. Lots to do, lots to learn, lots to see.
Cruise Report from Sydney, Australia
We arrived in Australia and I don't know what I expected from Brisbane, but wow is it clean. Sparkling clean. No, no it is really clean. I got up two hours before we docked and saw the whole harbor, the shore lines, the factories, the oil tanks, etc. Not one speck of trash. No graffiti anyplace. I am very, very impressed. I have travelled a bit, yet never have I seen anyplace so immaculate. Naturally, now I really looked for any trash because it is so hard for me to believe. Yes, I found two grittier spots, but only two street signs or stop signs that had some very small scribbles in silver written in a corner. The fine for dropping any kind of trash, even cigarette butts, is an instant $ 200.00 fine at least, and the town does give out tickets. They are patrolling and looking. The overall effect is a bit weird. It struck me as almost artificial, I am not used to it. There must be some dirt, trash or rubbish, right? Not in Brisbane, Australia. It is clean!
We chose the aboriginal tour the ship offered as an excursion. We went on a hired city bus, which was scrubbed clean and impeccable, to visit the River Walk, a long walkway, styled and arranged right next to the Brisbane river in the middle of town. After we walked about one KM we came to a set up tent with a platform where a few aborigines introduced us to their way of looking at life. Some stories of the dreamtime were orated, sung and danced. Nobody knows how many tribes lived before the white man came. Came, like he did all over the world, with sicknesses and Rum and an attitude of " this is now our land". For some 50,000 years the aboriginals lived and managed to live off the land. Food was plentiful, water was pure and ran clear in the rivers. They had no housing, so no mortgages. No cars, so did not have to pay for the purchase, gas and insurance. Clothing? They did not wear any. Furniture? They sat on the ground or on a tree stump.
The people we met showed us they could make a fire within 2 minutes, using two sticks and some wood shavings. Their focus was never, nor is it today, on what one possesses. They believed the land does not belong to you; you belong to the land. It was free for all to use, just like the air we breath is free for all to breathe. What they did know, still know today, is what most of us never knew. The aboriginals know their plant life. They know what is edible, what works as medicine and what is poisonous. I could not compete with them on their level. They know too much. They know their stars through oral stories and connections to their dreamtime sagas. The dreamtime was the time during the creation of the earth and the beginning of their existence.
Aboriginals are earth people. With inner peace, they are more peaceful than natives in other parts of the world. There are no written records. All stories are to be remembered, and most have a fabulous memory. Music is passed on by example, our group had a 4 year old in the dance group and another 6 year old boy who danced along with the adults. The 6 year old did not miss a step or gesture. The dances seem simple, but when I got up and tried to imitate their steps I found out my eyes had deceived me. Not so simple at all, if danced correctly. The same is true about blowing the simple looking diggdigaroo which is just a hollowed out branch from a bloodworm tree. Instead of hollowing out the long branch, the aboriginals use termites to do the work for them. It shows again their thinking. Time is of no essence. And they use nature to help them do a job. They use the termite to do the work and have the mental strength to wait until the termites have completed the job. So what if it takes some years, what is the hurry?
Thousands of the native population were killed by illnesses brought by the white man. They came with clocks and watches to divide each day into ever smaller pieces to "manage" their lives better. They came with new ideas. Life for the white man becomes ever more frantic with stock market reports, the latest news, Olympic medal counts all brought via the latest tablet computer or iPhone. Our worlds are so far apart, the white man's from the aboriginal's, that we can only look at each other in awe and puzzlement. Both groups have good points. It is yet to be seen whether the white man can keep on going, like the aboriginals did for close to 50,000 years and leave a bountiful, beautiful and healthy earth behind. Somehow I see the Aboriginals as having a better way of life.
As part of our tour we were to get some lessons on which plants are good to eat, and which have medicinal properties. We went to the botanical garden in Brisbane and were there on time but.... The guide did not show... So we all just stood in an Australian jungle section looking at signs but had really no clue of the purpose of each plant. I felt kind of like an eager beaver at the river, ready to learn something but....the one who knew was not available. Bummer!
We ended our outing with some bus trips to lookout points but what I thought would have been a good trip was a bit disappointing. Yes, we had a few dances with the native groups, but it could have been a lot more educational and left me feeling somewhat flat.
We chose the aboriginal tour the ship offered as an excursion. We went on a hired city bus, which was scrubbed clean and impeccable, to visit the River Walk, a long walkway, styled and arranged right next to the Brisbane river in the middle of town. After we walked about one KM we came to a set up tent with a platform where a few aborigines introduced us to their way of looking at life. Some stories of the dreamtime were orated, sung and danced. Nobody knows how many tribes lived before the white man came. Came, like he did all over the world, with sicknesses and Rum and an attitude of " this is now our land". For some 50,000 years the aboriginals lived and managed to live off the land. Food was plentiful, water was pure and ran clear in the rivers. They had no housing, so no mortgages. No cars, so did not have to pay for the purchase, gas and insurance. Clothing? They did not wear any. Furniture? They sat on the ground or on a tree stump.
The people we met showed us they could make a fire within 2 minutes, using two sticks and some wood shavings. Their focus was never, nor is it today, on what one possesses. They believed the land does not belong to you; you belong to the land. It was free for all to use, just like the air we breath is free for all to breathe. What they did know, still know today, is what most of us never knew. The aboriginals know their plant life. They know what is edible, what works as medicine and what is poisonous. I could not compete with them on their level. They know too much. They know their stars through oral stories and connections to their dreamtime sagas. The dreamtime was the time during the creation of the earth and the beginning of their existence.
Aboriginals are earth people. With inner peace, they are more peaceful than natives in other parts of the world. There are no written records. All stories are to be remembered, and most have a fabulous memory. Music is passed on by example, our group had a 4 year old in the dance group and another 6 year old boy who danced along with the adults. The 6 year old did not miss a step or gesture. The dances seem simple, but when I got up and tried to imitate their steps I found out my eyes had deceived me. Not so simple at all, if danced correctly. The same is true about blowing the simple looking diggdigaroo which is just a hollowed out branch from a bloodworm tree. Instead of hollowing out the long branch, the aboriginals use termites to do the work for them. It shows again their thinking. Time is of no essence. And they use nature to help them do a job. They use the termite to do the work and have the mental strength to wait until the termites have completed the job. So what if it takes some years, what is the hurry?
Thousands of the native population were killed by illnesses brought by the white man. They came with clocks and watches to divide each day into ever smaller pieces to "manage" their lives better. They came with new ideas. Life for the white man becomes ever more frantic with stock market reports, the latest news, Olympic medal counts all brought via the latest tablet computer or iPhone. Our worlds are so far apart, the white man's from the aboriginal's, that we can only look at each other in awe and puzzlement. Both groups have good points. It is yet to be seen whether the white man can keep on going, like the aboriginals did for close to 50,000 years and leave a bountiful, beautiful and healthy earth behind. Somehow I see the Aboriginals as having a better way of life.
As part of our tour we were to get some lessons on which plants are good to eat, and which have medicinal properties. We went to the botanical garden in Brisbane and were there on time but.... The guide did not show... So we all just stood in an Australian jungle section looking at signs but had really no clue of the purpose of each plant. I felt kind of like an eager beaver at the river, ready to learn something but....the one who knew was not available. Bummer!
We ended our outing with some bus trips to lookout points but what I thought would have been a good trip was a bit disappointing. Yes, we had a few dances with the native groups, but it could have been a lot more educational and left me feeling somewhat flat.
Noumea ( New Caledonia )
Noumea
We docked around midday and yes, a dance group greeted us. A huge hollow tree drum was beaten by about four grass-skirted men and another six or eight more modernly dressed women. All were singing and dancing wildly. We docked in a very clean, very secured area. All the containers on the dock were lined up neatly, no trash anyplace. The shuttle buses that took us to the town center were cleanly scrubbed and all were air conditioned. Not a speck of dirt in them. The five minute ride to the terminal center in town immediately gave the impression that this stop in the capital of the French protectorate of New Caledonia was special.
The name Caledonia was given to this island chain by the famous Captain Cook. The island's topography reminded Cook of Scotland (today's Scotland was at Cook's time known under the name of Caledonia). The name stuck even though Cook was wrong. If you want to compare the island to a European area today, most would say the French Riviera. With cafés, sunshine and good beaches this is a modern resort town.
NC (New Caledonia) however, does not live off tourism alone. Huge, I mean HUGE, nickel mines are being mined in the north end of the island. I did not see the actual mines but our onboard presentation showed us some photos. Open pit or strip mining where a whole area of the ground is dug up, is used. Then the ore is processed and shipped to the users. It seems all of this huge island, the island is as large as the state of New Jersey, is one Nickel deposit. Nickel is used in many products we do not think about too much, such as stainless steel or even nickel batteries. NC is getting rich on the ore alone. Tourism is just an additional source of income.
Not as hot and humid as the other groups of islands we just visited, NC is a delight. Trade winds create a steady breeze that keeps the temperatures between 20 to 30 degrees Celsius all year long. Around 33% of the population is of European heritage, 45% are Kanaks (the original people) and the rest are of other backgrounds.
The islands started off as a penal colony for the French in 1864 with 98% male population at that time which makes it easy to understand why 55% of today's population speaks French only. Still there is unrest between the Kanaks and the French. So much so that officially NC has two official flags. The political pressure to secede from France is high amongst the Kanaks and will be determined in 2018 when the first open elections will give a clear mandate. It is not easy for them to say they want to be independent. With independence, France will stop all support to the island, along with all benefits and entitlements. Yet a lot of the Kanaks would want to have their own say. We will see how this will develop in the future. It will not be easy to manage a small county, independent from France and keep up the lifestyle they are used to living. Changes are coming to NC for sure.
We took a city bus tour in a very modern bus and climbed some hills providing vantage points to see the town. This town has some beautiful views and is certainly a blessed island. World class resorts of course know this, one can live in total luxury and have the latest of the latest at one's fingertips. Yes, it is an attempt to copy the French Riviera in the Pacific but I had no problem with that. NC, Noumea is worth a visit. If you want to live cheaply here, bring your boat or ship. There is no time limit on anchoring your vessel anyplace on the islands. You can just live on your vessel. We met a guy who did just that, living the life, paying no rent. He loves it on NC, so would you.
We docked around midday and yes, a dance group greeted us. A huge hollow tree drum was beaten by about four grass-skirted men and another six or eight more modernly dressed women. All were singing and dancing wildly. We docked in a very clean, very secured area. All the containers on the dock were lined up neatly, no trash anyplace. The shuttle buses that took us to the town center were cleanly scrubbed and all were air conditioned. Not a speck of dirt in them. The five minute ride to the terminal center in town immediately gave the impression that this stop in the capital of the French protectorate of New Caledonia was special.
The name Caledonia was given to this island chain by the famous Captain Cook. The island's topography reminded Cook of Scotland (today's Scotland was at Cook's time known under the name of Caledonia). The name stuck even though Cook was wrong. If you want to compare the island to a European area today, most would say the French Riviera. With cafés, sunshine and good beaches this is a modern resort town.
NC (New Caledonia) however, does not live off tourism alone. Huge, I mean HUGE, nickel mines are being mined in the north end of the island. I did not see the actual mines but our onboard presentation showed us some photos. Open pit or strip mining where a whole area of the ground is dug up, is used. Then the ore is processed and shipped to the users. It seems all of this huge island, the island is as large as the state of New Jersey, is one Nickel deposit. Nickel is used in many products we do not think about too much, such as stainless steel or even nickel batteries. NC is getting rich on the ore alone. Tourism is just an additional source of income.
Not as hot and humid as the other groups of islands we just visited, NC is a delight. Trade winds create a steady breeze that keeps the temperatures between 20 to 30 degrees Celsius all year long. Around 33% of the population is of European heritage, 45% are Kanaks (the original people) and the rest are of other backgrounds.
The islands started off as a penal colony for the French in 1864 with 98% male population at that time which makes it easy to understand why 55% of today's population speaks French only. Still there is unrest between the Kanaks and the French. So much so that officially NC has two official flags. The political pressure to secede from France is high amongst the Kanaks and will be determined in 2018 when the first open elections will give a clear mandate. It is not easy for them to say they want to be independent. With independence, France will stop all support to the island, along with all benefits and entitlements. Yet a lot of the Kanaks would want to have their own say. We will see how this will develop in the future. It will not be easy to manage a small county, independent from France and keep up the lifestyle they are used to living. Changes are coming to NC for sure.
We took a city bus tour in a very modern bus and climbed some hills providing vantage points to see the town. This town has some beautiful views and is certainly a blessed island. World class resorts of course know this, one can live in total luxury and have the latest of the latest at one's fingertips. Yes, it is an attempt to copy the French Riviera in the Pacific but I had no problem with that. NC, Noumea is worth a visit. If you want to live cheaply here, bring your boat or ship. There is no time limit on anchoring your vessel anyplace on the islands. You can just live on your vessel. We met a guy who did just that, living the life, paying no rent. He loves it on NC, so would you.
Suva (Fiji)
Suva
Hot and humid as it was, we had no air conditioning on the bus. The windows opened to about half way, the door of the bus was broken, the seats were wooden and hard. The harbor area teamed with people. A blaring orchestra greeted us with Fijian music. Loudspeakers turned on full strength. Welcome to Suva, the Capital of Fiji. Yet all the people had a smile on their faces and for them this is Fijian life. This small city is crammed with 85,000 people. It feels crowded. Since it was a Saturday the stores were all busy, the bus depot was full of buses coming and going. The market spilled over with farmers offering their products. Tomorrow, Sunday, the whole island and all the stores will be closed. Sunday is church day. It seems everybody goes to church on Sundays. After church, food will be served and the whole of the extended family gets together to feast. Everybody cooks something and all is shared.
We are on the bus for about one hour out of town. The town is spread out from the heavily populated center to suburban kind of housing on the outskirts. No, not Americans suburbs, Fijian suburbs. Hurricanes and storms ran amok along the coast, floods bring rainwater down the mountains that cover huge areas. It is a natural phenanoman and the people take it in stride. They build their houses accordingly, some on pilings but some just held together to have shelter, not to have beauty. We passed three prisons on the way out of town. Not nice looking places. One of the prisons must have been one hundred years old, covered with mold, yet still being used today. Living this close to each other with the heat and storms and floods, makes daily life difficult.
We are on our way to a demonstration of the good old days on Fiji. A recreated village, a tourist trap with attached stores and live performers is our treat for today. But first I need to tell you one of the fables of Fiji. Once upon a time, a long time ago, a chief sent out his hunters to catch any animal and bring it to him for dinner. It did not take long and a creature was caught in the forest that turned out to be a deity. It was now up to the chief to do as he pleased with this creature, this god. This god asked the chief to just let him go and the talks lasted a bit but in the end a deal was struck. The clan would have total power over fire in exchange for the god's freedom. Thus it came about that this clan, even today, still has power over fire. Fire will not harm this clan. To prove the point, descendants of those warriors walked on hot stones to show the deal with their god is still in existence. Hence we lowly tourists watched the warriors of the clan walk over hot stones that had been heating in the midst of an open fire for 5 hours and prepared for the performance. With their old regalia, grass skirt, leaf armbands, shell necklaces and wielding spears, about eight men walked and stood on the hot rocks to the applause of the bus loads of tourists. All this was followed by women singing and dancing. Two women even sang a song while juggling oranges. A small skit with two men ogling them from the woods was included. When the women complained to their chief that their privacy had been invaded, a fast, vicious fight broke out and the two oglers were quickly killed and then hauled away to be eaten. It was a recreation of how life was years ago, before western religion changed all this feasting on each other. So I am not sure if the good old days were really that good. I know for sure they had no air conditioning then and that is what I wished for at the end of our outing. It sure was hot and humid.
As if their gods heard me, it started to rain as soon as we were in the rickety old bus, but no, no A/C on the bus. Just a general cooling down from the downpour and added moisture to make it more,humid. After a week of being greeted with song, dance and Kava, most of the performances started looking alike, I wonder if being this friendly and then being served for lunch really was the way it was in the past. No way to really know, people like to remember the good times of the past. The uncomfortable parts will be forgotten. So I think I will remember the fire walkers after some time but will forget the heat and rickety bus in years to come. It was a good outing, even though it was touristy.
Hot and humid as it was, we had no air conditioning on the bus. The windows opened to about half way, the door of the bus was broken, the seats were wooden and hard. The harbor area teamed with people. A blaring orchestra greeted us with Fijian music. Loudspeakers turned on full strength. Welcome to Suva, the Capital of Fiji. Yet all the people had a smile on their faces and for them this is Fijian life. This small city is crammed with 85,000 people. It feels crowded. Since it was a Saturday the stores were all busy, the bus depot was full of buses coming and going. The market spilled over with farmers offering their products. Tomorrow, Sunday, the whole island and all the stores will be closed. Sunday is church day. It seems everybody goes to church on Sundays. After church, food will be served and the whole of the extended family gets together to feast. Everybody cooks something and all is shared.
We are on the bus for about one hour out of town. The town is spread out from the heavily populated center to suburban kind of housing on the outskirts. No, not Americans suburbs, Fijian suburbs. Hurricanes and storms ran amok along the coast, floods bring rainwater down the mountains that cover huge areas. It is a natural phenanoman and the people take it in stride. They build their houses accordingly, some on pilings but some just held together to have shelter, not to have beauty. We passed three prisons on the way out of town. Not nice looking places. One of the prisons must have been one hundred years old, covered with mold, yet still being used today. Living this close to each other with the heat and storms and floods, makes daily life difficult.
We are on our way to a demonstration of the good old days on Fiji. A recreated village, a tourist trap with attached stores and live performers is our treat for today. But first I need to tell you one of the fables of Fiji. Once upon a time, a long time ago, a chief sent out his hunters to catch any animal and bring it to him for dinner. It did not take long and a creature was caught in the forest that turned out to be a deity. It was now up to the chief to do as he pleased with this creature, this god. This god asked the chief to just let him go and the talks lasted a bit but in the end a deal was struck. The clan would have total power over fire in exchange for the god's freedom. Thus it came about that this clan, even today, still has power over fire. Fire will not harm this clan. To prove the point, descendants of those warriors walked on hot stones to show the deal with their god is still in existence. Hence we lowly tourists watched the warriors of the clan walk over hot stones that had been heating in the midst of an open fire for 5 hours and prepared for the performance. With their old regalia, grass skirt, leaf armbands, shell necklaces and wielding spears, about eight men walked and stood on the hot rocks to the applause of the bus loads of tourists. All this was followed by women singing and dancing. Two women even sang a song while juggling oranges. A small skit with two men ogling them from the woods was included. When the women complained to their chief that their privacy had been invaded, a fast, vicious fight broke out and the two oglers were quickly killed and then hauled away to be eaten. It was a recreation of how life was years ago, before western religion changed all this feasting on each other. So I am not sure if the good old days were really that good. I know for sure they had no air conditioning then and that is what I wished for at the end of our outing. It sure was hot and humid.
As if their gods heard me, it started to rain as soon as we were in the rickety old bus, but no, no A/C on the bus. Just a general cooling down from the downpour and added moisture to make it more,humid. After a week of being greeted with song, dance and Kava, most of the performances started looking alike, I wonder if being this friendly and then being served for lunch really was the way it was in the past. No way to really know, people like to remember the good times of the past. The uncomfortable parts will be forgotten. So I think I will remember the fire walkers after some time but will forget the heat and rickety bus in years to come. It was a good outing, even though it was touristy.
Lautoka, Fiji
Lautoka has a large harbor, the central commercial hub for the sugar industry that dominated Fijian economy for so long. Where ever possible, fields are covered with sugar cane. Right next to the harbor is the sugar refinery and it is a very busy part of the harbor. All of Fiji seems busy. The total population of all the islands is said to be around 900,000 inhabitants, quite large for such limited space in this island chain. We docked on the main island of Viti Levu. Fiji has a total of 332 islands but only 130 or so are inhabited. The rest of the islands are either too small or have no natural resources to provide an occupation.
On our excursion from Lautoka, we visited a typical village on the island. As always in the South Sea, one is greeted with song, dance and a kava drink. This time, knowing the effects of kava, Carol and I, each, drank a good cup full of this brew. Although nonalcoholic, it made my lips feel numb after just a few minutes. Kava is a root crop of the pepper family. The older the plant, the more potent the effect. Fijians grow their kava for about 8 or 9 years before they harvest the roots, dry them in the sun and then grind the dried root into a powder. This powder is the basis of the kava drink we had.
Next we had an extended visit to the foothills of the Sleeping Giant mountains. Raymond Burr, the late American actor (Ironside), donated his extensive holdings of orchids along with some properties he held to the Fijians. A garden oasis, filled with tropical plants, exquisitly arranged in their natural states of growth, met our gaping eyes. There were 2,000 varieties of orchids and the effect of so much variety of plant life was overwhelming. Our guide, a native woman, knew every plant, knew the use of the plants for medicinal purposes and what was and was not edible. This would be nirvana for a botanist. I know too little of plant life to truly understand the full impact of this sanctuary.
Growing sugar cane is a labor intensive process and cutting the cane with a machete is hard work. The natural conditions of the terrain on Fiji does not allow for any kind of mechanization. Sugar cane, even today, is still cut by hand. To transport the cut cane, a narrow track rail line criss-crosses the island and ends at the sugar factory. Trucks are also used in some remote corners. Refining sugar is a huge operation and the whole harbor is geared to transporting the refined sugar throughout the world. There were not enough people on Fiji even way back in the 19th century. So in order to maximize their yield and to avoid the back-breaking labor of cutting the cane, the sugar merchants imported people from India between the years of 1879 to 1916 to work on the sugar plantations. Those sturdy, yet poor people were used almost as slave labor. Their original labor agreements were made for 9 years of labor, after wich they could stay on Fiji or go home to India. Most stayed on and worked as free men and women after their conscripted labor.
Today's population is broken down to 38% Indo Fijian, 57% Melanesian and 6% others. So India had a huge influence on Fiji, not only in the language, but also in the religious aspects of life where 21% are Hindus, 55% are Methodist, 9% Catholic and 6% are Muslims. The whole of Fiji is a mix of humanity. Yes, there is still a majority of aboriginal Melanesians but the mix of races will even get more diluted in time. In a way that is a good thing. I believe that the whole earth population will be "poly humans" soon, anyway. The old terms or distinctions of races will fade. The life and behavior according to a certain tribe, or a certain island, to think and live according to an inherited set of rules or culture is nearing its end. The names of Micronesia (area of small islands and small people), Polynesia (area of many different people) and Melanesia (area of dark skinned people) is ending. Modern travel, exchange of ideas and mixed marriages will merge us all into the "poly" (many) era.
This transformation is especially noteworthy here on Fiji. These islands I am in now used to be known in olden times as the Cannibal Islands. Not only was cannibalism practiced in Fiji, but in most parts of the South Pacific. Missionaries especially were eaten since their new religions offended and upset the old traditional ways. Offenses against not understood taboos were reason enough to cook, fry or roast your 'enemy'; to the extreme that a native chieftain by the name of Ratu Udre Udre ate 850 people. He believed that if he ate 1000 he would gain eternal life. Cannibalism was a way of life. On the long ocean voyages, in search of new islands on which to live, the eating of the dead or dying was one way to survive. In battles between tribes on overpopulated, established islands, the culling out or the eliminating of one's enemy by eating them, was logical. The protein thus provided was an important food source in a notoriously short supply of meat. The logic behind the eating of ones enemy is irrefutable. It just shows that anything can be done if one has no morals or perceived scruples. For the natives, this was an accepted way of living. It was the ultimate degradation after battle to be eaten by one's enemy. Well, times have changed and will continue to change. I believe we are changing for the better.
As on all the other archipelagos in the South Seas, the cultural roots are deep here in Fiji. For almost 6000 years these islands have seen change. The most recent is the establishment of an independent Fiji from Great Britain in 1970. Politically, there are still changes to come. After 4 coups since their independence, Fiji has yet to have a democratically elected government. While presently run by the military, change will come in many ways to Fiji. There is still an overpopulation and yet there are no longer other islands to expand into. The future of Fiji is wide open. It is clear that Fiji can not go back to tribalism, to canibalism or to expansionism, nor can they continue with their military dictatorship, no matter how benevolently it is run.
On our excursion from Lautoka, we visited a typical village on the island. As always in the South Sea, one is greeted with song, dance and a kava drink. This time, knowing the effects of kava, Carol and I, each, drank a good cup full of this brew. Although nonalcoholic, it made my lips feel numb after just a few minutes. Kava is a root crop of the pepper family. The older the plant, the more potent the effect. Fijians grow their kava for about 8 or 9 years before they harvest the roots, dry them in the sun and then grind the dried root into a powder. This powder is the basis of the kava drink we had.
Next we had an extended visit to the foothills of the Sleeping Giant mountains. Raymond Burr, the late American actor (Ironside), donated his extensive holdings of orchids along with some properties he held to the Fijians. A garden oasis, filled with tropical plants, exquisitly arranged in their natural states of growth, met our gaping eyes. There were 2,000 varieties of orchids and the effect of so much variety of plant life was overwhelming. Our guide, a native woman, knew every plant, knew the use of the plants for medicinal purposes and what was and was not edible. This would be nirvana for a botanist. I know too little of plant life to truly understand the full impact of this sanctuary.
Growing sugar cane is a labor intensive process and cutting the cane with a machete is hard work. The natural conditions of the terrain on Fiji does not allow for any kind of mechanization. Sugar cane, even today, is still cut by hand. To transport the cut cane, a narrow track rail line criss-crosses the island and ends at the sugar factory. Trucks are also used in some remote corners. Refining sugar is a huge operation and the whole harbor is geared to transporting the refined sugar throughout the world. There were not enough people on Fiji even way back in the 19th century. So in order to maximize their yield and to avoid the back-breaking labor of cutting the cane, the sugar merchants imported people from India between the years of 1879 to 1916 to work on the sugar plantations. Those sturdy, yet poor people were used almost as slave labor. Their original labor agreements were made for 9 years of labor, after wich they could stay on Fiji or go home to India. Most stayed on and worked as free men and women after their conscripted labor.
Today's population is broken down to 38% Indo Fijian, 57% Melanesian and 6% others. So India had a huge influence on Fiji, not only in the language, but also in the religious aspects of life where 21% are Hindus, 55% are Methodist, 9% Catholic and 6% are Muslims. The whole of Fiji is a mix of humanity. Yes, there is still a majority of aboriginal Melanesians but the mix of races will even get more diluted in time. In a way that is a good thing. I believe that the whole earth population will be "poly humans" soon, anyway. The old terms or distinctions of races will fade. The life and behavior according to a certain tribe, or a certain island, to think and live according to an inherited set of rules or culture is nearing its end. The names of Micronesia (area of small islands and small people), Polynesia (area of many different people) and Melanesia (area of dark skinned people) is ending. Modern travel, exchange of ideas and mixed marriages will merge us all into the "poly" (many) era.
This transformation is especially noteworthy here on Fiji. These islands I am in now used to be known in olden times as the Cannibal Islands. Not only was cannibalism practiced in Fiji, but in most parts of the South Pacific. Missionaries especially were eaten since their new religions offended and upset the old traditional ways. Offenses against not understood taboos were reason enough to cook, fry or roast your 'enemy'; to the extreme that a native chieftain by the name of Ratu Udre Udre ate 850 people. He believed that if he ate 1000 he would gain eternal life. Cannibalism was a way of life. On the long ocean voyages, in search of new islands on which to live, the eating of the dead or dying was one way to survive. In battles between tribes on overpopulated, established islands, the culling out or the eliminating of one's enemy by eating them, was logical. The protein thus provided was an important food source in a notoriously short supply of meat. The logic behind the eating of ones enemy is irrefutable. It just shows that anything can be done if one has no morals or perceived scruples. For the natives, this was an accepted way of living. It was the ultimate degradation after battle to be eaten by one's enemy. Well, times have changed and will continue to change. I believe we are changing for the better.
As on all the other archipelagos in the South Seas, the cultural roots are deep here in Fiji. For almost 6000 years these islands have seen change. The most recent is the establishment of an independent Fiji from Great Britain in 1970. Politically, there are still changes to come. After 4 coups since their independence, Fiji has yet to have a democratically elected government. While presently run by the military, change will come in many ways to Fiji. There is still an overpopulation and yet there are no longer other islands to expand into. The future of Fiji is wide open. It is clear that Fiji can not go back to tribalism, to canibalism or to expansionism, nor can they continue with their military dictatorship, no matter how benevolently it is run.
Apia, Samoa
Apia is the Capital of the Republic of Samoa (formerly Western Samoa, now just Samoa) an independent country. This Samoa is still a 92% agrarian culture. The island grows taro, vanilla, pineapple and other exotic foods. Unlike American Samoa, this Samoa is in a different time zone, and even on a different day. The International Date Line, separating one day from the next also separates the two Samoas. The recent history, the colonization of the Pacific, missionaries, WW2 etc., all shaped and reformed many islands, cultures and people. I even believe that people on just one island are a little different from those on the next island even when the next island is just one hour away by boat. Apia, on the island of Upolu, is just one of four islands that combined make up Samoa.
The history of Samoa fits the Polynesian model. The historical time lines are similar to those of Tahiti or other Polynesian islands. They are one genetically close people. European and American influences have changed some of today's political ideologies. Yet the people, the Samoans, are the same people on both sides of the dateline. While American Samoa was under U.S. influence, mainly due to WW2, Western Samoa gained independence from Great Britain as recently as 1972. Apia, the biggest town, is the center of the new political, independent thinking. So far Samoa has done very well. Naturally, a power struggle is in progress, yet the people I met are happy people and are mostly following the tribally proven ways of old Samoa. Via elected officials the islands strive to fit into the modern world.
We took a bus tour around and across the island. The roads were narrow but all tarred and in fair to good shape. Driving is on the left side of the road. Samoa tries to emulate, New Zealand who seems to be their biggest trading partner. Many Samoans go to New Zealand to further their education or to work for awhile to learn their trades. New Zealand is being admired as a child looks up to their parents. Culturally they are the same people.
The Island's natural beauty is stunning. Deep valleys, high and delicate rolling waterfalls, lush greenery, clean houses, ready smiles and friendly waves make for a country that is easy to like. We had demonstrations of peeling a coconut and extracting the coconut milk; we ate the inner flesh of the nut and sampled taro during our lunch at the famous Faofao beach where we swam over the coral in turquoise waters and dried out in a fale, in the shade. We also had grilled chicken and other Samoan delicacies for lunch. As good tourists we were greeted with the obligatory drums, song and dance, all so part of the Polynesian way of life. We were shown an idyllic island life, but the reality of life on Samoa is not far away from this picture. If I did not have a familiarity with the western world already, life in Samoa could be good.
The history of Samoa fits the Polynesian model. The historical time lines are similar to those of Tahiti or other Polynesian islands. They are one genetically close people. European and American influences have changed some of today's political ideologies. Yet the people, the Samoans, are the same people on both sides of the dateline. While American Samoa was under U.S. influence, mainly due to WW2, Western Samoa gained independence from Great Britain as recently as 1972. Apia, the biggest town, is the center of the new political, independent thinking. So far Samoa has done very well. Naturally, a power struggle is in progress, yet the people I met are happy people and are mostly following the tribally proven ways of old Samoa. Via elected officials the islands strive to fit into the modern world.
We took a bus tour around and across the island. The roads were narrow but all tarred and in fair to good shape. Driving is on the left side of the road. Samoa tries to emulate, New Zealand who seems to be their biggest trading partner. Many Samoans go to New Zealand to further their education or to work for awhile to learn their trades. New Zealand is being admired as a child looks up to their parents. Culturally they are the same people.
The Island's natural beauty is stunning. Deep valleys, high and delicate rolling waterfalls, lush greenery, clean houses, ready smiles and friendly waves make for a country that is easy to like. We had demonstrations of peeling a coconut and extracting the coconut milk; we ate the inner flesh of the nut and sampled taro during our lunch at the famous Faofao beach where we swam over the coral in turquoise waters and dried out in a fale, in the shade. We also had grilled chicken and other Samoan delicacies for lunch. As good tourists we were greeted with the obligatory drums, song and dance, all so part of the Polynesian way of life. We were shown an idyllic island life, but the reality of life on Samoa is not far away from this picture. If I did not have a familiarity with the western world already, life in Samoa could be good.
Pago Pago
Pago Pago (pronounced: Pango Pango )
The U.S. Territory of Samoa (pronounced: SAMoa) is part of the Samoan islands. There are two places called Samoa. Pago Pago is the capital of American Samoa. Around 65,0000 people, mostly urban dwellers call this island home. It is a very industrial looking town, a supply town for the U.S. Navy, and has an airport as well. Traditional ways of the native Samoans are kept, yet from the tour we took, it was evident that the McDonald hamburger culture has taken over parts of their lives. Physically, Samoans are on the heavy side; 94% are overweight. Yes, they know it, no need to tell them, but they find it difficult to eat in the old ways. Modern foods add pounds to their physique that are very, very difficult to eliminate.
Our tour circumvented most of the island and we drove past villages, some of which still showed the heavy devastation caused by the infamous 2009 tsunami, which created so much havoc in the region. Clean up efforts are commendable, yet some buildings were just too far gone to resurrect them. Nature helps by growing over the scars with a greenery quilt.
Village life in American Samoa is based on the old ways. It is set up the way Samoan culture was run for centuries. Each village has a chief, a few villages combine to have a regional chief who consults with the local chiefs. To be able to run for any governmental office one has to be a chief. Chiefs are definitely an elite group in Samoan thinking. We met one of those chiefs, who offered his house as a tourist set up to show us some of their customs. Yes, it was touristy, yet how else do you get an insight into some of the culture of a different civilization? From among our group two men were selected to serve as temporary ceremonial chiefs. Each one was given an assigned seating spot on a woven mat and was decorated with a lei. All other Samoans sat on the floor facing toward or away from the main chiefs position. Kava was served. This is a strong drink that numbs the nervous system. Drink a few cups of that and your tongue gets numb and your heart rate slows way down. I am told it was also given as a drink to farm workers so that their aching muscles from the exhausting work in steamy fields were not felt. It sure has a calming effect, I know, I drank some of the brew.
Next Samoan ladies in long, down to their feet dresses, danced a slow welcome dance, in which their hand movements told a story. Naturally, those stories were lost on us who just visited. The dance was slow and graciously accompanied with a slow song in their native tongue. It was important to sing, dance, even clap in perfect synchronization to show that all attending are on the same wave length or in perfect harmony. To be of 'one' mind was the purpose of this meeting. Only being in the mental state of 'one' mind could differences be eliminated or conflicts be solved. I wish our U.S. Senate or politicians could adopt this practice. Just imagine the speaker of the house making sure that each one of the representatives sees a problem with 'one' mind. Yes, all can be discussed, but the main focus, the collective view, the harmony of the whole must always be present. Songs, dance and body language are a good guideline for all to see or judge if the man who speaks is in tune with the issue at hand. The whole ceremony is a down to earth affair, natural as can be. One sits on the ground, no fancy furniture. Each speaker is given a stick to hold so all know who may talk and who needs to listen. The chief is given his carved long stick to show to all he is in charge.
The whole affair plays itself out in a fale, an open air large room. The floor of the fale
e is plain, the roof is held up by evenly spaced columns. Many houses have fales in their front yard, now being used for large family gatherings.. Samoans are a family oriented people. The large extended family is part of their daily life. In years past it was common for all to live in one large open room. Parents, grandparents, all the children and their wives, all grand or even great grandchildren, lived, slept and ate in one large room. If a woman married, she married into this family and her demeanor would be watched and judged by her new family. Today, Samoans have western type housing for private affairs yet the fale rooms for cooking, eating and family meetings are still wide open for mutual access by the extended family. There is very little privacy in these fale rooms.
Yes we had a tourist tour, but as you can see, I learned a lot by being part of a staged gathering of the Samoans.
The U.S. Territory of Samoa (pronounced: SAMoa) is part of the Samoan islands. There are two places called Samoa. Pago Pago is the capital of American Samoa. Around 65,0000 people, mostly urban dwellers call this island home. It is a very industrial looking town, a supply town for the U.S. Navy, and has an airport as well. Traditional ways of the native Samoans are kept, yet from the tour we took, it was evident that the McDonald hamburger culture has taken over parts of their lives. Physically, Samoans are on the heavy side; 94% are overweight. Yes, they know it, no need to tell them, but they find it difficult to eat in the old ways. Modern foods add pounds to their physique that are very, very difficult to eliminate.
Our tour circumvented most of the island and we drove past villages, some of which still showed the heavy devastation caused by the infamous 2009 tsunami, which created so much havoc in the region. Clean up efforts are commendable, yet some buildings were just too far gone to resurrect them. Nature helps by growing over the scars with a greenery quilt.
Village life in American Samoa is based on the old ways. It is set up the way Samoan culture was run for centuries. Each village has a chief, a few villages combine to have a regional chief who consults with the local chiefs. To be able to run for any governmental office one has to be a chief. Chiefs are definitely an elite group in Samoan thinking. We met one of those chiefs, who offered his house as a tourist set up to show us some of their customs. Yes, it was touristy, yet how else do you get an insight into some of the culture of a different civilization? From among our group two men were selected to serve as temporary ceremonial chiefs. Each one was given an assigned seating spot on a woven mat and was decorated with a lei. All other Samoans sat on the floor facing toward or away from the main chiefs position. Kava was served. This is a strong drink that numbs the nervous system. Drink a few cups of that and your tongue gets numb and your heart rate slows way down. I am told it was also given as a drink to farm workers so that their aching muscles from the exhausting work in steamy fields were not felt. It sure has a calming effect, I know, I drank some of the brew.
Next Samoan ladies in long, down to their feet dresses, danced a slow welcome dance, in which their hand movements told a story. Naturally, those stories were lost on us who just visited. The dance was slow and graciously accompanied with a slow song in their native tongue. It was important to sing, dance, even clap in perfect synchronization to show that all attending are on the same wave length or in perfect harmony. To be of 'one' mind was the purpose of this meeting. Only being in the mental state of 'one' mind could differences be eliminated or conflicts be solved. I wish our U.S. Senate or politicians could adopt this practice. Just imagine the speaker of the house making sure that each one of the representatives sees a problem with 'one' mind. Yes, all can be discussed, but the main focus, the collective view, the harmony of the whole must always be present. Songs, dance and body language are a good guideline for all to see or judge if the man who speaks is in tune with the issue at hand. The whole ceremony is a down to earth affair, natural as can be. One sits on the ground, no fancy furniture. Each speaker is given a stick to hold so all know who may talk and who needs to listen. The chief is given his carved long stick to show to all he is in charge.
The whole affair plays itself out in a fale, an open air large room. The floor of the fale
e is plain, the roof is held up by evenly spaced columns. Many houses have fales in their front yard, now being used for large family gatherings.. Samoans are a family oriented people. The large extended family is part of their daily life. In years past it was common for all to live in one large open room. Parents, grandparents, all the children and their wives, all grand or even great grandchildren, lived, slept and ate in one large room. If a woman married, she married into this family and her demeanor would be watched and judged by her new family. Today, Samoans have western type housing for private affairs yet the fale rooms for cooking, eating and family meetings are still wide open for mutual access by the extended family. There is very little privacy in these fale rooms.
Yes we had a tourist tour, but as you can see, I learned a lot by being part of a staged gathering of the Samoans.
Raiatea
Ra'iātea
Just an overnight jump with the ship and we landed right in the middle of the town of Uturoa, the capital of Raiatea. We docked against a huge, fairly new pier and could watch the town life below our stateroom. We had planned land excursions for almost every island on our cruise. But the tour we had planned and paid for here on Raiatea was cancelled due to bad weather. It rained all day. We walked a little through the town despite the rain, but our excursion, Taha'a by Land and Sea, would not have been safe in the sometimes heavy downpours. The ocean was too choppy for the small canoes they had planned on using on our now cancelled excursion.
To walk the town does not take long. Just one Main Street, about two blocks long with souvenir shops left and right, interspersed with a few food stores, a few small banks with ATM machines, city hall and a hardware and a fishing store. Some brave souls took it upon themselves to hire their own tours. There are always hawkers offering local tours. We opted not to do this. The danger always exists that something unforeseen will happen on those local excursions and if you miss the dead line for being back on board, the ship will leave without you. It then becomes up to you to somehow catch up with the cruise ship. Good luck on that chore. On this voyage, we played it safe, especially since the next port of call would be Pago Pago, 2 days away.
Raiatea is slightly larger than Bora Bora. The mountains are higher, which causes more rainfall. The population here has grown to about 12,000 and the town hospital serves as a regional station for all the other islands. Raiatea has, in the world of Polynesia, a special, spiritual meaning. Throughout Polynesian history this island seems to be at the heart of many things. It was the end station of some trans-Pacific migrations, but also the starting point of many other migrations to new and different places in their history. The Polynesian bury their dead in the backyard of the house where they live, which explains why a house will always be in the family and can not really be sold. This close relationship with their ancestors translates to islands too. Since quite a few trans-Pacific voyages started from here, the old ancestors could not be taken with them. So this island, Raiatea, became over time, a spiritual place where the spirits of the ancients dwell. A kind of altar, a plaza for the spirits to meet, was erected and is a very holy spot in their belief system. Unfortunately, I could not see the actual site because of the excursion cancellation, so I found this Wikipedia link to explain it a bit better.
During our lectures on board the cruise (we have 2 or 3 a day when not docked at an island) we saw schematics of the immigration waves in the Pacific archipelagos. Surprisingly, based on DNA, language, customs, etc. it is now believed that the beginning of those migration waves started near Taiwan and, after reaching Raiatea, swung back west to New Zealand or eventually went North to end in Hawaii, which explains why natives of New Zealand make pilgrimages to Raiatea to visit their ancestral 'home' even today.
The roots of Polynesia run deep and in twisted ways. Scientists found, through carbon dating, that some aspects of Polynesia date as far back as 4000 years before Christ. Raiatea itself seems to go back to about the year 0, or let's say 2000 years. Exploration and settlement of each island or each island group occurred in waves. Evidence shows that before people settled in the Society Islands, (Raiatea is one of these Islands) they came from Samoa, the next stop-over on our journey.
Polynesians are extremely good seafaring folks. Using the stars, wave patterns, winds, cloud formations and bird population they found their way around the open ocean. They knew for sure that certain birds ventured out to sea to fish but only within a, let's say, 20 miles radius of their nest on land. If they met a bird like this while searching for islands, they knew for sure that land was near, all they had to do is follow the bird when it flew home at night.
In the year 1996 a test was given to a young fisherman from Hawaii, using a modernized version of an outrigger canoe, but using no modern navigational instruments or maps of any kind, to sail from Hawaii all the way to Tahiti. He did it without making a mistake. The testers then sailed the same canoe back, but now using GPS and all modern instruments and satellites connections and compared the trips. The young Hawaiian fisherman could not have done it better. He was so close to the ideal route that it boggled their minds. He, like his forefathers, knew how to sail; knew how to read the natural signs to navigate the huge, wide Pacific Ocean.
This knowledge made it possible to settle the wide array of islands. Pushing further and further out to sea, from island to island, the Polynesian people spread themselves over a huge area. Since the natural resources on each small island are limited, and in order to avoid overpopulation, moving to the next island was a necessity. Sea travel was a natural way to exist. Raiatea was like the hub of a wheel, a central point from which many voyages started, yet to which many more also came, to mix the gene pool. In the minds of the Polynesians, Raiatea became a place where the spirits of their forefathers gathered and was therefore a place to be worshipped or honored,
Just an overnight jump with the ship and we landed right in the middle of the town of Uturoa, the capital of Raiatea. We docked against a huge, fairly new pier and could watch the town life below our stateroom. We had planned land excursions for almost every island on our cruise. But the tour we had planned and paid for here on Raiatea was cancelled due to bad weather. It rained all day. We walked a little through the town despite the rain, but our excursion, Taha'a by Land and Sea, would not have been safe in the sometimes heavy downpours. The ocean was too choppy for the small canoes they had planned on using on our now cancelled excursion.
To walk the town does not take long. Just one Main Street, about two blocks long with souvenir shops left and right, interspersed with a few food stores, a few small banks with ATM machines, city hall and a hardware and a fishing store. Some brave souls took it upon themselves to hire their own tours. There are always hawkers offering local tours. We opted not to do this. The danger always exists that something unforeseen will happen on those local excursions and if you miss the dead line for being back on board, the ship will leave without you. It then becomes up to you to somehow catch up with the cruise ship. Good luck on that chore. On this voyage, we played it safe, especially since the next port of call would be Pago Pago, 2 days away.
Raiatea is slightly larger than Bora Bora. The mountains are higher, which causes more rainfall. The population here has grown to about 12,000 and the town hospital serves as a regional station for all the other islands. Raiatea has, in the world of Polynesia, a special, spiritual meaning. Throughout Polynesian history this island seems to be at the heart of many things. It was the end station of some trans-Pacific migrations, but also the starting point of many other migrations to new and different places in their history. The Polynesian bury their dead in the backyard of the house where they live, which explains why a house will always be in the family and can not really be sold. This close relationship with their ancestors translates to islands too. Since quite a few trans-Pacific voyages started from here, the old ancestors could not be taken with them. So this island, Raiatea, became over time, a spiritual place where the spirits of the ancients dwell. A kind of altar, a plaza for the spirits to meet, was erected and is a very holy spot in their belief system. Unfortunately, I could not see the actual site because of the excursion cancellation, so I found this Wikipedia link to explain it a bit better.
During our lectures on board the cruise (we have 2 or 3 a day when not docked at an island) we saw schematics of the immigration waves in the Pacific archipelagos. Surprisingly, based on DNA, language, customs, etc. it is now believed that the beginning of those migration waves started near Taiwan and, after reaching Raiatea, swung back west to New Zealand or eventually went North to end in Hawaii, which explains why natives of New Zealand make pilgrimages to Raiatea to visit their ancestral 'home' even today.
The roots of Polynesia run deep and in twisted ways. Scientists found, through carbon dating, that some aspects of Polynesia date as far back as 4000 years before Christ. Raiatea itself seems to go back to about the year 0, or let's say 2000 years. Exploration and settlement of each island or each island group occurred in waves. Evidence shows that before people settled in the Society Islands, (Raiatea is one of these Islands) they came from Samoa, the next stop-over on our journey.
Polynesians are extremely good seafaring folks. Using the stars, wave patterns, winds, cloud formations and bird population they found their way around the open ocean. They knew for sure that certain birds ventured out to sea to fish but only within a, let's say, 20 miles radius of their nest on land. If they met a bird like this while searching for islands, they knew for sure that land was near, all they had to do is follow the bird when it flew home at night.
In the year 1996 a test was given to a young fisherman from Hawaii, using a modernized version of an outrigger canoe, but using no modern navigational instruments or maps of any kind, to sail from Hawaii all the way to Tahiti. He did it without making a mistake. The testers then sailed the same canoe back, but now using GPS and all modern instruments and satellites connections and compared the trips. The young Hawaiian fisherman could not have done it better. He was so close to the ideal route that it boggled their minds. He, like his forefathers, knew how to sail; knew how to read the natural signs to navigate the huge, wide Pacific Ocean.
This knowledge made it possible to settle the wide array of islands. Pushing further and further out to sea, from island to island, the Polynesian people spread themselves over a huge area. Since the natural resources on each small island are limited, and in order to avoid overpopulation, moving to the next island was a necessity. Sea travel was a natural way to exist. Raiatea was like the hub of a wheel, a central point from which many voyages started, yet to which many more also came, to mix the gene pool. In the minds of the Polynesians, Raiatea became a place where the spirits of their forefathers gathered and was therefore a place to be worshipped or honored,
Bora Bora
You have all seen this island in the advertisements you are exposed to daily, you just might not know it is Bora Bora. It is the penultimate luxury hotel experience with thatched 'huts' , interconnected by wooden walkways, serving as your room, sitting in the middle of a lagoon. .JPG)
The room rate per night is something like $5,000.00 to $6,000.00 US Dollars. Yes, that is for one night! Some of these resorts were destroyed in the 2009 hurricane that totally damaged large areas. Mother Nature might not have liked people encroaching on her creations. The total effect of Bora Bora is stunning with the clear, warm, turquoise water teeming with multicolored, tropical fish. Many call this island one of the best natural wonders of this earth and there are still resorts left in different spots around the island should you want to spend some time here.
Carol and I just came to visit via the cruise ship 'Marina' of the Oceania Cruise Line, a new ship built in 2010 in Italy. I recommend Oceania if you ever think of doing a cruise.
This is the rainy season in Polynesia and everything is very green and lush. The daily downpours are intense and create a steamy, high humidity environment favoured by the tropical fauna. Coconut trees lean precariously over the water's edge. Hammocks invite you to sit and contemplate life, piña colada in hand. 
Can life be better? Flowers are in abundance, in many hues and shapes or forms that I have never seen before. Mango trees asking to be picked, also the bread fruit, taro and other exotic plants whose names I do not know. Coconut palms sway in the soft wind, laden with nuts. It is like a Garden of Eden.People only live at the very perimeter of the island, the center is too steep for housing or agriculture. All of the center of the isle is covered with jungle-like greenery. A ring road, the only road on Bora Bora, hugs the coast.
Carol took a small boat to swim with the manta rays (sting rays) and the lemon sharks, snorkeling over a coral reef. She enjoyed feeling the velvety undersides of the rays but declined to touch the sharks even though they were only about three feet long.
While she was snorkeling, I took a 4x4 Land rover tour around the island visiting the former defense positions of the US Military during WW2 . My driver was a local man about 45 years old, who has travelled Europe and the US but came back to his birthplace because there is nothing better for him elsewhere. He loves his dormant volcano, surrounded by a ring of coral reef that acts like a buffer during storms. Only one opening in the ring of coral, just wide enough to allow our cruise ship to enter, creates a natural harbour. There is no large dock, ships must anchor within the old caldera and tender passengers to and from to the small town of Vaitape, which serves as the capital of Bora Bora. The total population of this jewel of an island is around 7000 inhabitants.
The old airport, created by the US military during the war years, is the fastest way to come or go. The airstrip, surrounded by water, was guarded by anti-ship canons, some of which are still in position, albeit now just relics of a time gone by. One must take a boat after landing in an aeroplane, it is the only way, since the runway literally sits smack in the middle of the Pacific. The entrance to the natural harbor was protected defensively with canons as well. The US was well prepared for an attack, yet there were no battles fought in Bora Bora. The island served mostly as a supply station for the battles in the Pacific theater.Yet, with the GI's being here for some years, changes occurred within the Polynesian culture that until then had only experienced some colonial French government workers and/or missionaries. Some blue eyed or blond haired natives tell the stories even today. Polynesian culture still prevails though. When a man marries a woman she will always be his wife, there is no divorce. Even if he moves away or has several other women in his life, she will always be known as his wife. The island is small enough so that everybody knows everybody and all know what is going on. There are no great secrets in this society. Everybody knows everybody's business. While immediate family can be counted on for support and help in any situation, the whole of the island is one group or clan. The house, once you build it, will always be your house, even if you move away or abandon it, it will always be your house. It belongs to you forever. You will pass it on to your oldest son who will pass it on to his oldest forever going forward. It is your house, not to be sold but to be lived in, no matter the shape or condition of it. If you don't like it you can change it, but it is your house. Forever. Girls, after they marry, move to their husband's family, never going back to her birth family. She will adapt to her husbands view of life. She will, after marriage, be part of his family.
Those are the old rules in Polynesian society, going back millennia. Not that much has changed in today's age.I visited a pearl farm, where the much wanted black pearls are being grown. This is a process I will write about in more detail later on.
I will provide more details too on how people started living in these small, yet beautiful spots in the world and how they got here.
Another later topic will be cannibalism, practised within most of Polynesia as recently as about one hundred years ago.
Come to Bora Bora, experience it yourself, not to worry, the cannibal fires have died down and those clay pots they used for cooking are broken. Today, as in most of the world, they prefer to lick an ice cream cone instead of a thigh bone.
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