Day 3: Scoot-Scoot to Hideaway

I met P early on day 3. We had breakfast in Vila at a little French place. I can’t say no to crepes wit bananas and nutella. We set off on the scooter to see what there was to see. Outside of Vila, the people live in villages which are exactly what you would imagine. Some have minimal electricity, generators, etc. I followed P’s lead as he just pulled over and walked up to the village and into people’s ‘yards.’ In the US, this would not go over so well. Also, he kept his nice camera around his neck and was taking incessant photos. I was amazed at how welcoming the ni-Vanuatu were. Most speak fairly good English. I was impressed that most people spoke 3 languages: their mother tongue which varies from island to island, Bislama (so that different islands can communicate), and English or French to communicate with the tourists. Vanuatu used to be shared by the British and the French before independence. There is still some French influence evident, but as most of the tourists are English-speaking, locals have adapted.

As we traipsed through these people’s worlds, they smiled, thanked us for coming, and invited us back. We also stopped by a few schools (photographer’s love photographing kids) and generally got the same response. Within a few minutes of arriving, word would spread and someone with good English would find us and start talking to us. Upon learning that it costs about $120/yr/per kid to attend school while the average income is only about $10/month in some poorer villages, I was immediately racking my brain and trying to figure out the best way to help these people. Reforming the school system, making the government pay for it with tourist income, etc. It took me a few days to realize that maybe these people are happy just as they are.

We finally found the cemetery that P had been looking for. We sat under a huge tree and indulged in a meaning of life conversation in a way that only fortunate people can. Did the ni-vanuatu sit around pondering their purpose? Did they have quarter life crisis and have to take trips halfway around the world to find themselves? Probably not. P proposed that maybe it was because they were oblivious of the way Americans lived. Maybe they didn’t desire things because material objects weren’t in their face all day every day. Everything that the ni-vanuatu did was purposeful and linked with survival: working in the garden, making things to sell at the market, etc.

After leaving the cemetery, we headed to Hideaway Island. We caught the ‘free’ ferry and then paid 1000 vatu to enter the island. The snorkeling was well worth it. After using up all of our brain power on the intense meaning of life discussion, lazing on the beach felt well deserved.