Impressions of Rarotonga
While I was in Rarotonga I kept a journal of my thoughts and experiences so I could transfer it here. So here is the first instalment of my account as I wrote it.
Friday
Rain seems to be a near constant in holidays. The rain here reminds me of the rain at my hometown. It's so tropical. The peaks are misted with clouds. I wasn't expecting the tropical bush to be so beautiful.
I flew into the island on Monday with a cold. The decent made me go temporarily deaf. I was nervous going through customs deaf, but they really don't care what you bring in as long as it isn't criminal.
So with a cold in the tropical rain I went for a walk up the road with my sister. We met piglets. We also found out that the pocket raincoat I brought with me is like a yellow rubbish bag with a hood. Actually a plastic rubbish bag would probably be more effective. By the end of the walk I was wringing water out of it as you would for cotton.
I said to my sister that this is the kind of rain that could last constantly for days. Thankfully this has not been the case.
The girls have access to a filter and bring home bottled water. The tap water here isn't good for drinking. However, it's ok to wash dishes in it or brush your teeth. I don't trust it. The plan for the teeth is easy. Take the bottle of filtered water with me to the bathroom. Don't use too much. We have plenty, but when all the drinkable water is in fizzy bottles lined up on the bench the very fact it's limited makes me think I'd better not waste any.
The plan for washing dishes is a little more creative (and this is done on a need-to-use basis for bowls as there are so few). I think boiled water is safer, and I would rather not use up what hot water we have (read later for why). So the kettle goes on. I was the dishes as normal and rinse with boiled. The problem is now I have hot dishes and utensils. This is fine if I'm eating something hot, but cereal with lukewarm milk... So I can't rinse with cold rap water. This would defeat the purpose of my ritual. Would rather not use cold filtered water for the aforementioned limited-supply issue. However there is an apparently very usable freezer... I want my dishes (and utensils) cold after all. This works very well. Except for this morning when I left the spoon in there too long.
I hope to find some of the more exotic shells. I stopped at one beach to discover where's the sand!? The whole beach was covered with coral lumps. They may be more interesting or perhaps novel than sand, however imagine sunbathing on that! It didn't prove too fruitful for complete shells either. I brought a couple of small nice ones back to the house. One of them suddenly started walking across the table. Opps! I hadn't noticed it was still someone's home! He was quite an adventurous little dude. He walked his way to the door looking for the ocean. My first stop the following day was taking him home to the beach.
My second attempt at beach combing was at Muri. It's an amazing white-sand beach, but alas even less fruitful for shells. It's lined with resorts and bungalows. My guess is it's all beach-combed out. It was less fruitful for shells, but for photos ideal. I think the photos I took today are better than the postcard of Muri I posted.
I get to see my photos in the evening as I can almost instantly download and view them on my sister's laptop. The underwater ones I've been taking with a disposable camera aren't so instant. I'll have to wait till tomorrow to see if they're any good. I'm so scared they'll just be way too dark. Today was the sunniest day out snorkelling.
Snorkelling is amazing. The thing is you don't need to be underwater to catch some of the life. As soon as I get under though it's like a wonderland. I start shaking for the cold, but I don't feel cold. I think my brain is too engaged with the fish going along their fishy lives to register something as everyday as cold.
It's quite a mixture, my impression of Cook Islanders. The shop assistants seem cold with a few lovely exceptions. If that was my only contact with the islanders I would wonder if I'd mortally offended someone and they all knew about it. However, I got into talking with this one local when I went out to snorkel. He said the Cook Islanders look after tourists and like us. I had to ask a guy at the petrol station (gas station for you Americans) where I could get stamps. He was helpful and told me to ask a local if I needed to. So perhaps their own impressions of themselves is that they're very friendly. I can understand why people who have to deal with tourists all the time might get a bit weary. From experience I know tourists can sometimes be very rude. I rather dislike being tied with the word "tourist". People may not want to throw away energy at a relationship which has to be temporary.
In contrast to shop assistants, the locals we personally know are incredibly generous. I can't get over how much people have lent to us when I thought I'd have to hire.
More seriously the day after I arrived one of the people I was expecting to meet suddenly died. I have this sense of grief that I never met him. Through my family I know so much of him. It was completely unexpected. I couldn't believe people meant him when I was told. I attended the funeral this evening.
When one of the ushers saw me sitting alone (though temporarily until my sister took her seat) she came and kissed my cheek and thanked me for coming. Cook Islanders always kiss your cheek (though perhaps this is just the women). I don't have a chance to register the name of the person I've just met and they're brushing their cheek against mine. I'm glad I was aware and prepared that this is their greeting. Otherwise I may have been a little confused. I picked it up pretty quickly thought. I just enjoy it for what it is, and interactive "hello".
It's the right thing, though feels a little strange, to continue my holiday. The man who passed away actually made much of it possible. He lent the snorkelling gear I'm using. He fixed up and made available the motorbike I'm using.
The motorbike is the thing I've written home most about. There is no way my parents would be happy with me on a bike in other circumstances. Here people expect motorbikes so they look out for them much more. There are more motorbikes, I believe, than other vehicles on the island. In addition to the bike I use, there is another one another local lent to us (my sister, the other volunteer helper living with us and myself).
The one I use is not completely reliable. It can be hard to start and can sometimes only handle a brisk walking-pace (and I'm talking about on a flat road too). Unfortunately when I first got on to drive it, it was having one of its faster moments. This was before my mind had registered to use my hands for brake and accelerator. I ended up in the bushes, under the bike and helplessly laughing. A helmet might be a good idea thought. It might save me if a coconut shell should suddenly fall.
I love having this bike. I get to grab my stuff and go out on my own whether or not one of the other girls want to come. They get tired with work and they've been here long enough that some stuff isn't as novel as it is for me. Also my time is much more limited than theirs. I want to get in as much snorkelling especially as possible.
Friday
Rain seems to be a near constant in holidays. The rain here reminds me of the rain at my hometown. It's so tropical. The peaks are misted with clouds. I wasn't expecting the tropical bush to be so beautiful.
I flew into the island on Monday with a cold. The decent made me go temporarily deaf. I was nervous going through customs deaf, but they really don't care what you bring in as long as it isn't criminal.
So with a cold in the tropical rain I went for a walk up the road with my sister. We met piglets. We also found out that the pocket raincoat I brought with me is like a yellow rubbish bag with a hood. Actually a plastic rubbish bag would probably be more effective. By the end of the walk I was wringing water out of it as you would for cotton.
I said to my sister that this is the kind of rain that could last constantly for days. Thankfully this has not been the case.
◊ ◊ ◊ ◊
The girls have access to a filter and bring home bottled water. The tap water here isn't good for drinking. However, it's ok to wash dishes in it or brush your teeth. I don't trust it. The plan for the teeth is easy. Take the bottle of filtered water with me to the bathroom. Don't use too much. We have plenty, but when all the drinkable water is in fizzy bottles lined up on the bench the very fact it's limited makes me think I'd better not waste any.
The plan for washing dishes is a little more creative (and this is done on a need-to-use basis for bowls as there are so few). I think boiled water is safer, and I would rather not use up what hot water we have (read later for why). So the kettle goes on. I was the dishes as normal and rinse with boiled. The problem is now I have hot dishes and utensils. This is fine if I'm eating something hot, but cereal with lukewarm milk... So I can't rinse with cold rap water. This would defeat the purpose of my ritual. Would rather not use cold filtered water for the aforementioned limited-supply issue. However there is an apparently very usable freezer... I want my dishes (and utensils) cold after all. This works very well. Except for this morning when I left the spoon in there too long.
◊ ◊ ◊ ◊
I hope to find some of the more exotic shells. I stopped at one beach to discover where's the sand!? The whole beach was covered with coral lumps. They may be more interesting or perhaps novel than sand, however imagine sunbathing on that! It didn't prove too fruitful for complete shells either. I brought a couple of small nice ones back to the house. One of them suddenly started walking across the table. Opps! I hadn't noticed it was still someone's home! He was quite an adventurous little dude. He walked his way to the door looking for the ocean. My first stop the following day was taking him home to the beach.
 |  |
| The hermit going visiting | The hermit safely home |
My second attempt at beach combing was at Muri. It's an amazing white-sand beach, but alas even less fruitful for shells. It's lined with resorts and bungalows. My guess is it's all beach-combed out. It was less fruitful for shells, but for photos ideal. I think the photos I took today are better than the postcard of Muri I posted.
 |  |  |
I get to see my photos in the evening as I can almost instantly download and view them on my sister's laptop. The underwater ones I've been taking with a disposable camera aren't so instant. I'll have to wait till tomorrow to see if they're any good. I'm so scared they'll just be way too dark. Today was the sunniest day out snorkelling.
Snorkelling is amazing. The thing is you don't need to be underwater to catch some of the life. As soon as I get under though it's like a wonderland. I start shaking for the cold, but I don't feel cold. I think my brain is too engaged with the fish going along their fishy lives to register something as everyday as cold.
◊ ◊ ◊ ◊
It's quite a mixture, my impression of Cook Islanders. The shop assistants seem cold with a few lovely exceptions. If that was my only contact with the islanders I would wonder if I'd mortally offended someone and they all knew about it. However, I got into talking with this one local when I went out to snorkel. He said the Cook Islanders look after tourists and like us. I had to ask a guy at the petrol station (gas station for you Americans) where I could get stamps. He was helpful and told me to ask a local if I needed to. So perhaps their own impressions of themselves is that they're very friendly. I can understand why people who have to deal with tourists all the time might get a bit weary. From experience I know tourists can sometimes be very rude. I rather dislike being tied with the word "tourist". People may not want to throw away energy at a relationship which has to be temporary.
In contrast to shop assistants, the locals we personally know are incredibly generous. I can't get over how much people have lent to us when I thought I'd have to hire.
◊ ◊ ◊ ◊
More seriously the day after I arrived one of the people I was expecting to meet suddenly died. I have this sense of grief that I never met him. Through my family I know so much of him. It was completely unexpected. I couldn't believe people meant him when I was told. I attended the funeral this evening.
When one of the ushers saw me sitting alone (though temporarily until my sister took her seat) she came and kissed my cheek and thanked me for coming. Cook Islanders always kiss your cheek (though perhaps this is just the women). I don't have a chance to register the name of the person I've just met and they're brushing their cheek against mine. I'm glad I was aware and prepared that this is their greeting. Otherwise I may have been a little confused. I picked it up pretty quickly thought. I just enjoy it for what it is, and interactive "hello".
It's the right thing, though feels a little strange, to continue my holiday. The man who passed away actually made much of it possible. He lent the snorkelling gear I'm using. He fixed up and made available the motorbike I'm using.
◊ ◊ ◊ ◊
The motorbike is the thing I've written home most about. There is no way my parents would be happy with me on a bike in other circumstances. Here people expect motorbikes so they look out for them much more. There are more motorbikes, I believe, than other vehicles on the island. In addition to the bike I use, there is another one another local lent to us (my sister, the other volunteer helper living with us and myself).
The one I use is not completely reliable. It can be hard to start and can sometimes only handle a brisk walking-pace (and I'm talking about on a flat road too). Unfortunately when I first got on to drive it, it was having one of its faster moments. This was before my mind had registered to use my hands for brake and accelerator. I ended up in the bushes, under the bike and helplessly laughing. A helmet might be a good idea thought. It might save me if a coconut shell should suddenly fall.
I love having this bike. I get to grab my stuff and go out on my own whether or not one of the other girls want to come. They get tired with work and they've been here long enough that some stuff isn't as novel as it is for me. Also my time is much more limited than theirs. I want to get in as much snorkelling especially as possible.
