The Walrus and the carpenter

Running a guesthouse is definitely a very interesting, if rather demanding, way of life. You're constantly inviting strangers into your home and sharing your life with them. It takes a while to get used to, and I guess I'm still adjusting. You meet a fascinating cross-section of human kind. In the huge majority of cases you meet interesting and wonderful people, it really restores your faith in human nature, though you always have to keep in mind that these people are just passing through, which is sometimes hard. But every now and then you also have to deal with people that are not so likable, in most cases you can just grin and bear it......but last week we had, possibly, one of the most unpleasant people that I've had the pleasure of welcoming at our guesthouse. It's a good exercise in tolerance to try to find likable traits in such people, but I'm afraid that I failed rather miserable, I have a long way to go on the path to enlightenment!

I love traveling, and have to admit that despite having such a beautiful home and family, my feet still itch for my student days when I was able to up and leave and rough it. I always enjoyed experiencing new cultures, and just seeing new things, all the beauty that this world has to offer and there's still so much more out there that I'd love to see. But it's clear that this is not what inspires everyone to travel.....about a month ago I read 'Do Travel Writers go to Hell', a slightly dubious book, the memoirs of a travel-writer on his first big job writing for Lonely Planet Brazil, and the craziness of trying to fulfill his deadline, his struggle to figure out how best to go about his task and his moral dilemmas. It's not such an amazing book, but he does meets an array of travellers, those travelling to escape, those travelling to find themselves, those travelling to lose themselves. I'm not sure where our guest fits in, he was someone who had devoted over ten years of his life to traveling, and very proudly told me that he had visited 161 countries and had only 36 left to go, he'd seen everything that humans could do. But his complete lack of empathy with others, and complete absence of interest in Rurutu was astonishing to me. He spent three days with us, glued to the internet and quickly did the island tour on his own, and told me that he had Rurutu pretty much sussed out! He did not speak a word of french, nor did he feel it necessary to try, he simply shouted at anyone he needed to communicate with in English, assuming they would understand better if he spoke louder. He could not comprehend that my husband's first language was neither English nor French. I had a terrible time, trying not to explode into an indignant rage, tact is not one of my virtues. He was a retired academic of some kind, and somehow, for me, this made his mindless superiority all the more insufferable. And, yes, he was American...

Following hot on his heels was the 'arrival' of Viriamu's Uncle Rudi, the rightful king of Rurutu! He actually lives here in Rurutu, but he has a lady-friend visiting at the moment, and as his highly religious grandmother does not approve of that kind of thing (he is in fact a 53 year old widower, but some people are pretty strict around here!). So, knowing Viriamu's good for it, he pulled the family card and bagged a room at our guesthouse. He is fervent about rejuvenating the royal family, and believes that he is/should be the one wielding the scepter. He held 'court' on our terrace for the last few evenings, and the idea clearly was that we should bow to his every whim. I'm afraid I've never been very good at being reverent, even when merited, but I had to try to bite my tongue.....the absurdity of this last week's guests brings to mind Lewis Carroll's Walrus and the Carpenter. In fact, the more I think of it the more I feel like Alice!

"The time has come," the Walrus said,


"To talk of many things:

Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax-- 

Of cabbages--and kings--

And why the sea is boiling hot--

And whether pigs have wings."

A month in the Marquesas

I have just returned from a month of fieldwork in the Marquesas. As part of the project I'm coordinating, the French Polynesia Terrestrial Arthropod Survey, I have been organizing and taking part in fieldtrips across French Polynesia. This time, is the first time that Matotea and Viriamu weren't able to come along too, and it's been a difficult month for me, wrestling with the guilt of having left Matotea for so long. The fieldtrip itself was fun in a dirty and gruelling kind of way, they always are, and although it's the third time I've visited the Marquesas archipelago, it's always great to go back.

Temetiu plateau, Hiva Oa - it's wet up there in the cloud forest!

Nuku Hiva's cross-island road, which cuts
through some really nice cloud forest

Ouia Valley, Fatu Hiva - home to Thor Heyerdal and his wife
during their self-imposed exile in 1937!

An innovative solution to drying clothes in Hiva Oa
the Marquesas are a ways north of Tahiti and so the weather is really tropical

Poutemoka monolith, Ua Pou, one of the many imposing stone
formations on the island, we climbed up to its base

But I'm definitely feeling conflicted, my obligations as a mother should probably come first...my days as a field biologist may be numbered!

The Marquesans are a little bit like the Austral islanders, in that they're really quite distinct from the Society Islands and extremely proud of their roots - they also have their own traditions and language, there is even a pro-independence party, seeking independence from Tahiti! The Marquesas were first claimed by Catholic missionaries, so they are predominantly Catholic. The culture has remained more intact then those 'converted' by the Protestants, who basically forbade everything- most contemporary Tahitian/Polynesian tattoos are based on Marquesan motifs, as the traditional motifs from the other islands were all but lost. For more info and lots of pictures of Tahitian tattoos check out Tattoonesia's blog. The Marquesans are also well known for their carving - they are talented wood and stone sculptors, having both quantities of good quality basalt and abundant supplies of fine wood (one of the finest being miro, rosewood - Thespesia populnea). They have also, more recently, started making some fabulous seed necklaces. The Aranui cruise ship/cargo boat plies the islands every few weeks, and it's this source of tourism that has really fueled the development of the flourishing local arts and crafts scene. The annual 'Salon des Marquises' held in Tahiti, is definitely worth a look, if you ever have the occasion.