Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
The Learning Curve
Lesson 1: Vanuatu Is Not Fiji. Nor is it New Caledonia, with its paved roads and first-world
services. If Fiji made us feel like royalty and New Caledonia made us feel like tourists, the
people of Vanuatu made us feel like neighbors. We were left to wander, pursue our own in-
terests, and generally observe daily life like oversized flies on the wall. With time, we were
also able to develop closer friendships with individuals, but nowhere else did we find the
instant, easy acceptance that southern Vanuatu offered us.
It took us a while to figure all this out, however. On our very first shore expedition on Ana-
tom, we hoped to hike to a distant waterfall. We were a little taken aback when we asked
villagers the way.
“Oh, it's very far,” said the first man, eyes on the ground.
“Um, it's private land,” said the second, scratching his T-shirt.
“Er, it's easy to get lost,” added a third, after a pause.
So which was it?
“The spirits could get you,” chipped in a fourth man, genuinely concerned.
That, too?
We were starting to wonder whether they just preferred not to have strangers wandering
around their island unaccompanied - a fair enough wish, after all. But then, it clicked. It
was all of the above. Vanuatu has a complex belief system that can't easily be distilled into
simple terms for the western mind. And that's part of the appeal: the mystery, the sense of
always having something new to learn, no matter how much time you spend there. In that
way, Vanuatu is much like sailing itself.
Eventually, we found a guide and thoroughly enjoyed a long day's outing to the waterfall,
as much for the slippery rainforest trail as the cool cascade itself. The guide turned out to
be a real bonus (and a fair deal, at US$5 per person): young Elisha, like his fellow is-
landers, was reserved at first but more chatty as the day went on, teaching us about local
customs and helping us trade for juicy grapefruit, plucked fresh from the tree.
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