Rarotonga - The Last Dance

March 1

Paradise.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved

February 26 was a hot, sticky, tropical kind of day, the steamiest of our trip. It was our last day in Raro, and nobody wanted to leave. The prospect loomed large over us, and tempers wore a bit thin. I think it was the combination of uncomfortable humidity partnered with the general moroseness one quite naturally feels when facing a separation of thousands of miles from this amazingly beautiful, calm, peaceful place.

This guy poses in the 4 directions.
Here, I'm doing my best to cover his bits...

We started our packing while waiting for a couple of us to come back from a walkabout, and then we went to market in Avarua, it being Saturday morning. And, as you'll remember, going to market is what one does on Saturday mornings. We were all sweating profusely. I'm sorry to be indelicate, but facts are facts. There's no other way to put it.

I mentioned to one of the shopkeepers that it was an awfully hot day, and she smiled and said, “Well, that's what you came here for, isn't it?” Actually, no. But I suppose, generally, she does have a point. Most people would be here to escape winter weather. But the winter weather where I live is not of the sub-freezing, blizzardy variety.

Marumaru Atua, the Cook Islands vaka.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

We walked along the waterfront in Avarua, and guess what we saw? The vaka! There it was, at full sail, just outside the reef. It was making its way into the harbor, with a whole bunch of people on board. We watched (in the shade) as it approached the dock by Captain Jack's, and then we walked on over to have a closer look. I tried to imagine crossing the ocean on this vessel, but I couldn't quite picture myself doing it. Especially in high seas. The Voyagers are a brave and adventurous bunch!

Marumaru Atua at Treasure Island
(near San Francisco)
We visited, as promised. Can you spot Brown?
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

We took some pictures and then tried to think of something to take home to cook for dinner. Everything pretty much closes at 1 or 2 on Saturday afternoon so everyone can get ready for Sunday, except a few of the pricier places, and we needed to think about what we still had left to do in order to be ready to leave on time. Frankly, I thought I'd rather miss the plane, but then there would be the small problem of no money and no place to stay. Not a happy prospect, eh? But surely there's something an enthusiastic and vivacious person such as myself could do to earn a small but sufficient living here? Anyway, we had just eaten at the market, and nothing sounded good. So, we went home empty-handed, a development we would come to rue.

We went for our last snorkel, always sort of a sad and melancholy thing. Goodbye, big, beautiful fishes and other serene sea creatures. Goodbye, lovely coral heads teeming with itsy bitsy fishies of many colors and shapes. Goodbye, refreshing and clear lagoon. Goodbye, coral reef off in the distance, breaking up the thunderous waves that come crashing upon you. If you have tears in your eyes, well, so did I.

The light from the flash reflecting from the sky's tears.
A torrential downpour on our last evening in Raro.
Looks like snow, but it's huge raindrops!
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

Bob took the car back to the rental agency, and so now we had no transportation but our feet. So, we thought we might walk over to the PawPaw Patch for dinner. It was dark, but the PawPaw is an easy distance from the Coral Villa. Except that the skies opened up and started crying because we were leaving soon. I mean, buckets of tears. A torrent of emotion that kept on going, and going, and going. There was just no relief for the deep sorrow the island was experiencing. The downpour continued and did not stop. Somehow, I was able to draw solace from the fact that Raro was going to miss me just as much as I was going to miss Raro. And the rain continued. We were unable to go get dinner.

So, we finished packing and chatted while awaiting the shuttle to the airport. Such sad times! Rongo (the manager) came to bid us farewell and wanted to hear all about our adventures, which lightened the mood a bit. She is experienced at such things, and it showed. Thank you, Rongo, for making us feel so sure that we would indeed be back again, and soon.

Rongo and a friend on a
sunnier day.
Thank you, Rongo!
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

The shuttle arrived, we loaded up our bags, and we said our goodbyes to Rongo. It was so kind of her to stay with us until the bitter end. In retrospect, though, she probably needed to make sure we were actually vacating the premises! But she never let us think that at the time, not even for a second. The air conditioning in the shuttle was going full blast, and it was just freezing in there. Or so it seemed to me. I hadn't really experienced a whole lot of air conditioning while in Raro, preferring the sea breezes.

We got to the airport in plenty of time to check out the souvenir shops after checking in (a long line of dejected people, hating to leave). Harry got a Cook Islands Police hat, which he has since given to a guy at the VA [military veterans' clinic] who thought it was cool. Just sharing the love.

I purchased one last flat white, even though it's a hot drink and the temperature in the terminal was quite warm (no air conditioning there).

On the plane, I was seated next to a Rarotongan young man who works at the Rarotongan resort. We chatted about slow internet speeds and so on, and he talked about property fights and loose women and STDs and unwed mothers and lazy islanders...it was interesting, for sure, to hear his perspective on things. It certainly wasn't the picture I'd painted in my head and didn't match my experiences at all. Then again, I'd only been there two weeks. I wonder. At any rate, it just goes to show, there's always more to a story than meets the eye. And I still want to go back. So there.

Arriving in Los Angeles. There's snow on the mountains.
Feeling sad...
Photo taken by my Rarotongan friend with my camera.
He had the window seat.

When we were landing in Los Angeles (where the TSA people just about ruined our whole vacation, but I won't discuss that here), the mountains were snow-capped. My new friend had a hard time wrapping his head around that! “Is that SNOW?!” he asked incredulously; and, “I'm going to freeze!” he declared. I'm sure the friends he is visiting will be able to provide him with cold weather gear, if he needs it. Just because there's snow on the mountain tops doesn't mean it's cold down below at all. It's LA. Swimming pools. Movie stars.

Leaving Rarotonga was so hard. There's nothing new there. I seem to fall in love with every place we visit. The cultures, the foods, the views, and, of course, the people, all have their own charm and value. All so different, yet, in a strange way, all the same. The family of man. The children of God. Aere ra, goodbye, until we meet again.

The five of us on the beach. Happy times.
Photo by the neighbors from New Zealand. Thank you!

Rarotonga - C.I.C.C. Titikaveka

Sunday, February 20

C.I.C.C. - Titikaveka
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

Kia orana! This morning, we all went to church at the Cook Islands Christian Church (C.I.C.C.) just down the street here in Titikaveka (again, that's “Tee tee kah' veh kah”). There's a C.I.C.C. in every district (five districts on the island), so pretty much every village has one. About 70% of Cook Islanders belong to this denomination, and the church is central to village life. So, it seemed like the best place for us to visit, since it would be most typical (at least, in our minds). And since it was just a short walk from the house, it was convenient, as well.

It would be rare to be made to feel more welcome anywhere. We were greeted on the walk, we were greeted at the stairs, we were greeted at the door, we were greeted inside. And with each greeting came an invitation to share some refreshment after the service. Probably 30% or more of those in attendance were guests. So, we assumed the refreshments would be cookies and coffee or something like that, which is pretty much what we offer our guests at home. More on that later.

The service was lovely and easy to follow, though lots of what went on was in the native language (the homily, for instance). There were presentations by visiting youth groups, choirs, and so on. We had heard that just the native singing, with beautiful island harmonies, would make church attendance worthwhile, even for those who don't normally attend. I must say, the singing was absolutely glorious. Really, if you go to church here, and the singing doesn't bring tears to your eyes, well, there's something wrong with you!

I took a photo of the church when it was empty,
so as not to disturb the service.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

You can't accuse these folks of “going Gospel light,” either. The Gospel is presented clearly, with a call at the end of each presentation. If you've been to that church, you have no excuse unless you weren't listening at all, ever. You can't say you didn't get the message.

Some of the songs were familiar to me (“Holy, Holy, Holy” and “Days of Elijah” and “I Believe in Jesus” and even a country song), other not so much. The songs I knew, I sang with all my heart, just like I would do at home. The songs I didn't know, I listened to and absorbed deep in my spirit. There were tears in my eyes through most of the song service, as I thought about the unity of the Body of Christ. Here I was, halfway around the world, but I was of one heart and one mind with brothers and sisters I'd never met. Connected. So, yes, I was emotional. And I'm not about to apologize for it.

The five of us enjoyed the service very much. The invitation to the gathering afterward was repeated several times during church. But there were one or two in our group who were unsure about staying, so, not wanting any of us to be uncomfortable, we all decided to just walk home for lunch. Ha! One of the deacons cut us off at the pass and was rather insistent that we should eat with them. I guess we almost committed a terrible faux pas, unknowingly. We didn't want to insult our hosts, so we followed him to the fellowship hall.

Boiled taro, sweet potatoes, and a bunch of other goodies.
Photo by Jo Gade. All rights reserved.

It wasn't just light refreshments. It was a whole meal of island specialties, served buffet style. I thought the tables would collapse from the weight of the food, which was piled high. There was delicious ika mata (fish marinated in coconut cream...my favorite), poke (banana cooked in arrowroot, also very yummy), roasted pork, chicken, lamb, etc. There were fruits and vegetables. I ate sea cucumber roe cooked with egg, and I loved it. I know! All of us agreed that this meal was even better than the one we'd had at the dinner show. By the way, you are expected to pile your plate high and eat until you are absolutely stuffed and cannot eat another bite, as though it is your last meal.

Waiting in the guest section.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

One thing I found strange, though, is that the church members sat together at tables with tablecloths, while the guests were seated on plastic chairs and wooden benches in a corner of the room and outside. The members ate first, and then the guests were invited to eat. Membership has its privileges? This is completely opposite how we do things at home, where the guests are seated in places of honor and are served first. That doesn't mean I thought it was all wrong or was offended or anything; I just noted that it was different and thought it would be interesting to find out why the custom is the way it is [Perhaps to demonstrate to guests that there is more than enough food to eat here? Or perhaps fattening up the captives during cannibal days of yore?...No offense! Just making a joke and wondering is all). There was certainly plenty of food, as the platters were replenished over and over again, and we were encouraged to eat more and more until I thought I would burst. As I said, we couldn't have felt more welcomed. Good job, C.I.C.C. Titikaveka!

Our property manager, Rongo, was a little surprised to see us at church, I think. I hope it was a pleasant surprise for her. It was certainly a pleasant surprise for us to see her there, a familiar and friendly face.

What to wear: Ladies, you are expected to keep your shoulders and upper arms covered modestly and also to wear a skirt or dress (rather than shorts). So, please don't wear your bathing suit cover-up to church on Sunday morning. I don't think they would refuse to let you in, but it just wouldn't be honoring and respectful to show up dressed in poolside clothing. You can wear sandals, and you don't have to wear stockings. Thank goodness! Also, please wear a hat. Your sun hat will do. The local ladies wear the beautiful and quite expensive woven pandanus hats to church. The hats are decorated with woven flowers, silk flowers, black pearls, and so on. They wear dresses with short sleeves (as opposed to no sleeves), generally, or else a shirt and blouse. The ladies also wear huge black pearl earrings and pendants, and there's certainly no lack of places where you can purchase these in Rarotonga. Gentlemen, you might want to pack a pair of khakis (You can wear them on the plane) and a Hawaiian shirt. The local gentlemen will be wearing shirts and ties, but you can get by a bit more casually. Again, thank goodness!

It was a very hot and sticky day when the breeze died down. It was a steam bath in church, and, suddenly, the wind kicked up and the rain poured down in cool buckets, providing some much-needed relief. So, you might want to bring something with which to fan yourself (other than the church bulletin, that is).

Just so you'll know and can plan accordingly, things are closed in Raro on Sundays. It's truly a day of rest. Get your groceries and your gasoline on Saturday. We should go back to doing that back home, because there's really nothing like knowing that you might as well rest, as there's nothing else to do. I had forgotten how relaxing that is!

In neighborhood news, people have moved into Hibiscus, the house behind ours. They arrived late last night from New Zealand for a wedding. Auckland is just a couple of hours flight from here. Come on! There's no justice in the world.

Rarotonga is a very popular wedding destination, which is no surprise to me. I still don't really understand the whole “destination wedding” thing. Why not be married in your home church? Why invite all your guests to your honeymoon destination? And it's such a huge expense for your guests. But, on the other hand, fewer guests are able to attend. Hmmm.....

Ahhh. This is living. Look at that water!
Photo by Bob Hampton. All rights reserved.

So, we rested this afternoon. You know, sitting on a lounge chair overlooking the lagoon from our awesome deck and listening to the far-off waves crashing on the reef while reading a good book (in my case, The Girls), every once in a while taking a cooling dip in the refreshing water...well, how do you describe that? It's paradise, truly. And you can't do this at home.

Tonight, we had a light meal of seared ahi tuna that Bob bought at the market yesterday, and coconut rice that I made, and guava and pawpaw and cucumber. It was very tasty.

I washed the dishes, and Karen dried. I find that I'm not minding cooking and cleaning up while camping in this lovely house on the beach, after all. I suppose I was tired the other day when I complained about it.

It's 9 p.m. It's been hot today, but it seems a bit cooler now. Jo and Karen have gone to bed, my husband's doing crosswords, and Bob is editing pictures, as is his nightly habit. The guys have used up the 150 meg of internet time we purchased, so we'll have to get more tomorrow. Or the next day. Or whatever.

Rarotonga - The Rarotongan

February 17 (Thursday already!)

Rainbow
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

Kia orana! There was another big rainstorm overnight. It rains very hard and wakes you up. Then it clears up. Then it clouds over. But it doesn't matter. The temperature is fabulous and very comfortable today.

This morning, we went snorkeling at The Rarotongan, the really nice resort (low-rise) where Bob and Karen stayed last time they were here. It seems funny to say that. Someday, I'll be back in Raro, and I'll be able to say, “Oh! And here's the place where we stayed last time we were here!” [Okay, stop tearing up, eyeballs. It could happen. Really.]

The Rarotongan Resort from the water.
Photo by Bob Hampton. All rights reserved.

Just as in Aruba, the beaches here are all open to the public. It isn't a problem, because there's hardly anybody on the beach, even at the resorts! So, it's totally okay to drive to The Rarotongan, park your car across the street, walk through the resort to the beach, and go snorkeling. Besides, you'll probably spend some money on a meal or a drink or a souvenir. So, it's good for business.

Apparently, there's at least one wedding every day at The Rarotongan. There's a nice deck area for the reception, and everything's included – the food, the band, the flowers. By “included,” of course, I don't mean “free.” On this particular day, they were setting up the tables, and the band was warming up. It looked like it was going to be a good time as well as a good day for somebody!

Photo by Bob Hampton.
All rights reserved.

As previously mentioned, there's a lagoon that goes pretty much all the way around the island. Our place is on the south side of the island, towards the east. The Rarotongan is also on the south side of the island, but it's on the western “corner.” But it's the same lagoon. The fish at the resort are used to being fed, so they come over to you when you hit the water. Especially if you happen to have some frozen peas with you.

The water was much clearer today, with a fabulously wonderful array of fish (sea life?). And the fish are bigger, too, some of them, than I was expecting to see. Big enough to eat. But not big enough to eat you, which, in my book, is an important distinction.

Photo by Bob Hampton. All rights reserved.

We had lunch at a little place down the road from the resort, at the half-way mark (½ way around the 32 km island from the main town, Avarua). I had a B.E.L.T. Sandwich (bacon, egg, lettuce, tomato). I'd seen it on a few menus and thought I'd give it a try. It was very unexpectedly delicious. Really. Give it a try, and you'll see. Harry had Cajun chicken salad, which was also very good.

Tonight, we ate at the Paw Paw Patch Restaurant, about a five-minute walk from our place. It was a great experience on a number of levels (see the previous post...). I had Thai fish (marlin), and Harry had fish curry. The food was excellent.

Fun factoid: There are stray (or not) dogs everywhere (also chickens), but they are friendly and don't seem mangy like stray (or not) dogs I've seen elsewhere (Mexico, for instance). There's a dog on our property. Jack, the three-legged dog. He's the only one we're “allowed” to feed, and he always knows when we're eating something. He suddenly appears out of nowhere. This morning, he had some scrambled eggs and toast, because we'd cooked too much. At home, my husband was always very opposed to giving dogs treats from the table. He must be going through a phase or having a change of heart, because the “no treat” rule does not apply to Jack.

A walk on the beach.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

I went for a walk on the beach this afternoon – beautiful! The tide was very low, and you didn't need snorkel gear to see bunches of parrot fish and a snowflake eel and spotted groupers and etc., right next to the water line in the closest corals. So peaceful. Highly recommended and refreshing for body, soul, and spirit. I hear the theme song from “Adventures in Paradise” (television series) in my head as I look at the water and the palm trees.

There are lots of cute vacation places in our village, Titikaveka – bungalows, small hotels, and so on. There are no high rises on the island. The vegetation is lush, with flowering hedges mostly lining the road on both sides. Just when you're about to snap a photo from the moving vehicle, here comes another hedge. But it's hard to mind terribly. It's gorgeous. Jaw-dropping, even.

Most residences seem very liveable, though not all. There are a couple of “shells” that we drive by, and one of us will say, “Hey! We can totally remodel that place!” It's kind of a running joke. There are homes that are over the top, too, but it seems, as a rule, that “regular people” live a simpler life here. But that is not the same as a substandard life, which I've seen in other places.

Oh! Forgot to mention our dessert tonight at the Paw Paw Patch. It was outstanding: coconut-cashew pie with a lovely, not-too-sweet caramel sauce and vanilla ice cream. Mmmmmm! And we also tried a Matutu pale ale. No, not with dessert! With dinner. It's locally brewed, and I had expected it to be a little...flat tasting. But it was surprisingly flavorful.

Bob editing photos. Harry looking on.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

Here's what we're all doing to pass the time this evening: Bob is editing pictures. Harry is doing a crossword puzzle. We are having trouble with the DVD player, as the movies we brought from home will not play on it. And, there's one television station, but we can't seem to get it. It's kind of nice, actually, to just...be. I find that I can bear the deprivation quite well indeed. The sound of the waves crashing on the reef offshore is soothing.