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Written by: Goran Peuc (Croatia,
Europe)
Contact: goran@evo.hr
Phone
(Europe): 00 385 98 462 601
 
And then one day, sitting in front of my computer in my
house, I decided that I need a break from city life and that I should go
to small Pacific island and spend some time there. Couple of months, to be
exact. I sent email to my good friend in Sydney telling him I will be
there in few days, and that he must help me in my little escapade. 20 days
later, I landed in Sydney. Since I had no clue what exactly is my next
destination (all I had in my mind was – “small Pacific island”), I paid a
visit to Google Earth, just to check out what is in relative vicinity of
Australia. There was this place called New Caledonia, but that was just a
big island (yes, I am aware of the fact that they got
small Loyalty Islands, but that is not the point). Going onwards
to east there was this Vanuatu place, never heard of it, let’s see
what is next. Next is Fiji, bah, too many tourists there, I will
feel like I am at home and that is what I was
escaping from in the first place, not to mention an occasional coup. Let’s check
this Vanuatu thing one more time. 10 days later, after spending wonderful
time in Sydney, whoosh, I landed in Port Vila without a single grain
of idea where I am.
Port Vila occupied my mind for about 5 minutes, since it is just
another city. Don’t get me wrong, Port Vila is a cool place to spend some
time, and experiencing the spirit of ni-Vanuatu people for the first time
was really nice, but at that moment I was looking for something else.
Something far away from gas stations, roads, shops and telephones. Going
through options, I decided that I will take “Island Gateway” boat further
north to Luganville - Santo, and see how my luck is doing over there.
Luganville. Even though I found it more relaxing and cuter that Vila,
it was still a city. Yes, a city consisting of one main road and few small
ones, but that was not the vision I had in my head. I went straight to Air
Vanuatu office and checked destinations further north. The Torba province
– Torres and Banks islands. On the menu there was Gaua (too big), Vanua
Lava (still too big) and Mota Lava. Hmmm… small, cute, lovable, most
likely isolated and unspoilt. Yes sir, I will have one plain ticked to
Mota Lava, please. I spend about 2 weeks in Luganville, meeting some of
the best people that I had an honour to meet throughout my life, I went to
Port Olry, Golden and Champagne beach, and then I boarded Air Vanuatu Twin
Otter aircraft and took off into mystery, anticipation and adrenaline.
Just flying over Banks islands gave me a hint that I was right, that
this is the place where I needed to be. Landing surprisingly smooth on
Mota Lava’s grass airstrip (this pilots really know what they are doing!),
I knew my life is about to take a complete new twist. Forest all around
me, happy ni-Vanuatu people looking weird in my direction - not many white
people visit this islands – air blowing gently and sun pouring sweet honey
drops on my shoulders. Hello, I said. They smiled, and pointed me to a
truck (I would soon learn that this is the only truck on the island, and
even that one is rapidly falling to peaces). After a 20 minute ride I was
in Mota Lava’s main village – Nerenigman, a place where I will spend my
next months. No technology involved, no Internet, no noise, no phones, no
schedules, just simple island life. I felt like this is the place that
called me all the way to Europe, beckoned me, and pulled me from another
side of the World. I instantly felt that this is my home away from home.
It is hard to describe the events that took place in those months. My
immersion with village life was complete and almost instantaneous; there
was no point in resisting it. I started learning how the island lives, how
to catch fish, how to prepare food, how to build a house. I quickly
learned to recognise people from distance by the way they moved, and by
the calling sounds they make. Naturally, learning process was two sided. I
soon figured out that due to lack of communication with outside world they
have no clue what is happening “out there”. Every night I spent time with
chiefs of village and numerous villagers telling them stories that shocked
them down to their bones (or maybe it was strong island kava that shocked
them, I could not tell exactly). Funny thing – space exploration was their
favourite topic and every night I was asked to tell them more about stars,
planets, galaxies, space ships and aliens potentially visiting our
planet.
After first month I became true “Man Bush”. Nature of the island became
my home. Delicate forest was my backyard, and crystal sea water with coral
reef was my living room. My island tutors learned me how to dive and shoot
fish in the eye, how to catch coconut crab with precision and ease;
surprisingly, I still have all of my 10 fingers attached to me, how to cut
open a coconut if I was thirsty, and what villagers liked the most – I
never complained about anything (rugged bush, living conditions or
essentially anything else). I was one of them, I was part of the island
and the island was part of me.
Island kastom (culture and traditions)
came along the way. Kastom dances, beautiful carvings and ceremonies,
rituals and kastom stories about spirits, demons and gods kept me
constantly amazed and puzzled.
As second month passed, I was getting curious about travelling further
north to Torres islands, but just for a short visit. 2 weeks in Torres
would be enough, and then I would return back to Mota Lava right in time
for Christmas and New Year celebration. Since I was good friend with most
of the village, including Air Vanuatu agent working at Mota Lava, I easily
booked a ticket Mota Lava – Torres – Mota Lava. If you go now to Air
Vanuatu office and try doing that, you will quickly find it impossible.
First of all, there are no flights Mota Lava – Torres, and even more
impossible is to get a Torres – Mota Lava ticket. But, as you might
already know, in Vanuatu it is not about WHAT you know, it is about WHO
you know.
With twin engines roaring behind me, I took first steps on
Linua and Loh Island, Torres. Imagine a place where white sand is so fine
that you sink into it as you walk. Where turquoise water colour is so
intense that your mind can hardly process it. Where people rely only on
what they can catch, grow, or find in the bush. Where last cargo ship was
one year ago. Mota Lava was hard-core, but you could find in shops few
things like toilet paper, soap and maybe occasionally even a biscuit.
Torres was completely empty of all goods, but it was completely stocked
with all nature can provide. A true test for a newly formed Man
Bush.
My time in Torres was intense. People quickly realised that I was
not an ordinary white skinned weakling. I was not afraid to go diving in
open waters armed with stone-age style underwater bow and arrow, and that
I did not mind spending night in rough bush running around looking for
coconut crabs. Torres showed me so many wonders of true Vanuatu,
relatively easily accessible caves with hand stencils, caves with human
bones and magical stones, ceremonial carved stone pillars placed on top of
hills (and no one knows how did they get there), white beaches sprinkled
with black volcanic stones, …
Torres visit came to an end, and I was
back on Mota Lava just in time for Christmas and New Year celebrations and
dances. Oh, oh, do this people know how to party. Starting from 25.
December all the way to about 10. January party, kastom dances and feasts
were being organised every day. The big public kitchen located on main
square was flooded with food and women were cooking round the clock to
supply entire island with freshly cooked delicacies. Lobsters? Yes, we got
them. Fish? Tons! Fresh vegetables and fruit? Heaps! Party went deep into
the night every day, local string band was blasting away island music, and
kava was getting seriously in danger of being extinct plant. Great times,
but it all had to come to an and at one point.
On the last night in
Mota Lava, there was a ceremony organised for my departure where I was
presented with lots of carvings and artefacts, last kava with chiefs and
friends, and a last island feast. My last walk to the airport was so hard
to do. A lot of villagers (particularly some girls) were crying when they
saw me leaving, a lot of older people in village thought that I was going
to stay there forever and were shocked when they saw me leaving, but it
was my time to get back to real world.
I came back to Vila on 15. January. My 4 months visa is soon about to
expire, and I will be on my way back to Europe soon. Vanuatu experience
was, without any doubt, the best 4 months of my life so far. I am looking
forward to come back to wonders of North Vanuatu, and next time I come, I
know I am not coming as a tourist – I am coming back to my second
home.
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