It is incredible. Go there, man.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Mt Yasur. Yessir!
A few weekends ago, we visited Mt Yasur - an active volcano on one of Vanuatu's southern islands, Tanna.
It is incredible. Go there, man.
It is incredible. Go there, man.
Chief Roi Mata
About 400 years ago, there lived an incredibly powerful chief in Vanuatu called Roi Mata. He was apparently a very charismatic guy because the legend goes that after conquering the islands, he set about uniting all the warring tribes through sheer personal magnetism. Given that at this time in Vanuatu’s history someone from an enemy tribe would sooner eat you than give you the time of day, he must have been one suave character.
A little too smooth for his brother’s liking it seems, because he shot a poison dart into his throat, causing poor old Roi Mata to die a protracted and grizzly death. As he waited to die, his rellies took him on tour around Efate (the principal island of Vanuatu on which Port Vila is located) to bid farewell to his minions. They then canoe-ed him across to a nearby island where he spent his final days and was subsequently buried.
But having this very powerful chief buried in their backyard spooked the villagers living on this island, so they decided to exhume his body and move it to a close-by uninhabited island. Possibly to make up for the first botched burial job, they decided to give him a real send-off the second time and enlisted 47 unlucky villagers to be buried alive with him, including his 10 wives. The men were plied with a very strong kava brew and went peacefully to sleep, however as it was taboo at this time for women to drink kava, they met their deaths with terrifying lucidity.
The legend of Roi Mata remained exactly that, a legend, until in 1967 a French archeologist decided to investigate its accuracy. It all turned out to be true.
So a couple of weekends ago, we set off with a group of friends to check out the story for ourselves. The sites associated with Roi Mata are now listed as UNESCO world heritage sites and the villagers living in this area have established a day tour for curious types, like us.
The day began as we boarded our banana boat and set off across the pristine waters off the north-east coast of Efate to reach the first site – what is thought to have been Roi Mata’s meeting place, where he no doubt shared many a pearl of wisdom with his followers.
Here we were regaled with a re-enactment of a tribal war, followed by the bit were Roi Mata tells them all to pull their heads in and get along. As we had no idea that this was part of the tour, we were quite taken by surprise when the chaps sprang from the undergrowth. But it was a jolly good show indeed!
This is what they call a tam tam – a slit drum used to send messages through the jungle.
Fels cave is the cave where Roi Mata drew his last breath.
Quite an impressive site with rock art around the walls dating back as far as 900 AD. This is a depiction of a wel fis (whale). Whales are a good omen in Vanuatu custom and back in the day, if you saw a whale offshore as it travelled by on its annual migratory path and you hadn’t planted your yams for the year ahead, you knew it was time to get a wriggle on.
This next image is quite incredible. It isn’t rock art at all, but a naturally formed image on the cave wall about 20 meters high by 30 meters long, in an area that would not have been accessible to any aspiring artists anyway. Now I don’t know about you, but for me, that is a pretty spot on image of a boar, or wael pik as they say in Bislama. It even has a perfectly formed eye and tusk. Given the huge ceremonial significance attached to wild pigs in Vanuatu custom, this has got to be one of the most extraordinary sites around. Crop circles, Stonehenge - whatever!
A little too smooth for his brother’s liking it seems, because he shot a poison dart into his throat, causing poor old Roi Mata to die a protracted and grizzly death. As he waited to die, his rellies took him on tour around Efate (the principal island of Vanuatu on which Port Vila is located) to bid farewell to his minions. They then canoe-ed him across to a nearby island where he spent his final days and was subsequently buried.
But having this very powerful chief buried in their backyard spooked the villagers living on this island, so they decided to exhume his body and move it to a close-by uninhabited island. Possibly to make up for the first botched burial job, they decided to give him a real send-off the second time and enlisted 47 unlucky villagers to be buried alive with him, including his 10 wives. The men were plied with a very strong kava brew and went peacefully to sleep, however as it was taboo at this time for women to drink kava, they met their deaths with terrifying lucidity.
The legend of Roi Mata remained exactly that, a legend, until in 1967 a French archeologist decided to investigate its accuracy. It all turned out to be true.
So a couple of weekends ago, we set off with a group of friends to check out the story for ourselves. The sites associated with Roi Mata are now listed as UNESCO world heritage sites and the villagers living in this area have established a day tour for curious types, like us.
The day began as we boarded our banana boat and set off across the pristine waters off the north-east coast of Efate to reach the first site – what is thought to have been Roi Mata’s meeting place, where he no doubt shared many a pearl of wisdom with his followers.
Here we were regaled with a re-enactment of a tribal war, followed by the bit were Roi Mata tells them all to pull their heads in and get along. As we had no idea that this was part of the tour, we were quite taken by surprise when the chaps sprang from the undergrowth. But it was a jolly good show indeed!
This is what they call a tam tam – a slit drum used to send messages through the jungle.
Fels cave is the cave where Roi Mata drew his last breath.
Quite an impressive site with rock art around the walls dating back as far as 900 AD. This is a depiction of a wel fis (whale). Whales are a good omen in Vanuatu custom and back in the day, if you saw a whale offshore as it travelled by on its annual migratory path and you hadn’t planted your yams for the year ahead, you knew it was time to get a wriggle on.
This next image is quite incredible. It isn’t rock art at all, but a naturally formed image on the cave wall about 20 meters high by 30 meters long, in an area that would not have been accessible to any aspiring artists anyway. Now I don’t know about you, but for me, that is a pretty spot on image of a boar, or wael pik as they say in Bislama. It even has a perfectly formed eye and tusk. Given the huge ceremonial significance attached to wild pigs in Vanuatu custom, this has got to be one of the most extraordinary sites around. Crop circles, Stonehenge - whatever!
Suitably impressed, we left the cave and travelled to the next island and the final resting place Roi Mata.
They call it Hat Island.
Here we visited the burial site, which was returned to its original state after the frenchy did his excavation in the 1960s. It was quite creepy standing at a site where such carnage had taken place, knowing that all those bones were just beneath our feet. The images of the excavation are quite impressive – google them sometime!
Here is a pic of the Chief himself adorned with ceremonial shells. I don't know about charming. He looks grumpy to me.
All this talk of dead chiefs and mass burials made us hungry so we stopped for a picnic
and then went for a spot of snorkelling
Don’t worry Marylene, we didn’t really spot a shark while we were snorkelling, just one about 50 meters off shore when we were back in the banana boat :D
Look, here we are safe and sound back on the beach (if not a little fuzzy).
The end.
They call it Hat Island.
Here we visited the burial site, which was returned to its original state after the frenchy did his excavation in the 1960s. It was quite creepy standing at a site where such carnage had taken place, knowing that all those bones were just beneath our feet. The images of the excavation are quite impressive – google them sometime!
Here is a pic of the Chief himself adorned with ceremonial shells. I don't know about charming. He looks grumpy to me.
All this talk of dead chiefs and mass burials made us hungry so we stopped for a picnic
and then went for a spot of snorkelling
Don’t worry Marylene, we didn’t really spot a shark while we were snorkelling, just one about 50 meters off shore when we were back in the banana boat :D
Look, here we are safe and sound back on the beach (if not a little fuzzy).
The end.Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Packing Box Bonanza
Well - it has been a while. I'm afraid we have lost our readers and it is going to take some serious regular blogging to get things back on track. We have a bevy of photos to post and more stories to tell, so I'll get down to it.
First big distraction in the past month was the arrival of our stuff. Boxes and boxes and boxes of largely useless things that we thought we just couldn't live without. Including a truly ridiculous amount of packaged food. Kilos of sugar. Litres of curry paste. 20 jars of vegemite!!! I don't know what we were thinking when we were packing. We must have been delirious. Or anticipating a nuclear holocaust on arrival. Crazy stuff.
So we got stuck into the joyous task of unpacking it all.
It was like Christmas, lucky dip and pass the parcel all at once. Everything was so well disguised under layers of packing wrap that we were never quite sure what we would get..... beloved photo albums, newly purchased coffee machines or ....an ice cube tray! The fun didn't stop for a whole week.
We enlisted the help of the long-suffering Lissi Lala and John. The looks Lissi gave us as she unpacked our mountains of flour and sugar, all readily available locally of course, made us both feel very silly indeed.
John hit his limit fairly early in the piece and got stuck into the chicken stock to try and kill the pain.
I don't know what was in that chicken stock....
First big distraction in the past month was the arrival of our stuff. Boxes and boxes and boxes of largely useless things that we thought we just couldn't live without. Including a truly ridiculous amount of packaged food. Kilos of sugar. Litres of curry paste. 20 jars of vegemite!!! I don't know what we were thinking when we were packing. We must have been delirious. Or anticipating a nuclear holocaust on arrival. Crazy stuff.
So we got stuck into the joyous task of unpacking it all.
It was like Christmas, lucky dip and pass the parcel all at once. Everything was so well disguised under layers of packing wrap that we were never quite sure what we would get..... beloved photo albums, newly purchased coffee machines or ....an ice cube tray! The fun didn't stop for a whole week.
We enlisted the help of the long-suffering Lissi Lala and John. The looks Lissi gave us as she unpacked our mountains of flour and sugar, all readily available locally of course, made us both feel very silly indeed.
John hit his limit fairly early in the piece and got stuck into the chicken stock to try and kill the pain.
I don't know what was in that chicken stock....
So after the strenuous task of telling Lissi and John where to put everything (I SWEAR it didn't really happen like that), we decided we really needed to get away from it all. So we climbed aboard Captain Harry's pirate ship and sailed the seven seas... well one of them anyway.
It is a hard life, to be sure.
It is a hard life, to be sure.
Stay tuned - more to come!
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