Easter Island Missive the First
Aug. 8th, 2005 11:09 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
urbpan(I wrote this last night)
I hesitate to call it a "misadventure" because neither of us has been injured (knock wood). We have suffered long delays on the runway, lost luggage (mine), currency changing goofs (mine again), and tried to go to the Santiago zoo on the one of the year that it´s free and thousands of families bring their children in. But if there are any rules to complaining, one should be that it´s not allowed when you are in a place that most people will never go. First impressions of Rapa Nui are that it´s dark and wet, arriving as we did at night in the rain. Our guide for our visit is a hyper American archaeologist named Dale. He has the enthusiasm of a whole tent´s worth of camp counselors, and promises to show us 60% of the archaeological sites on the island
Since the sight of the island are so far hidden, I´ll report on the sounds. The plane we arrived on just left for Tahiti. The sound of an airplane taking off must be the loudest sound this place has had since the volcanoes were active. A pleasant roar out our unlockable sliding door is the ocean--I suppose on an island this small you always hear it. Glancing outside I see palm fronds swaying, so the roar may also be the wind. A dog barked distantly, as we made our way to the hotel. I keep imagining Í´m hearing highway traffic, which in a way is a sad comment on my expectations.
(now We´ve spent the morning walking around in the sunshine, and I´m just typing off the top of my head)
The ocean sounded close because our room faces it, about 100 feet away. We haven´t seen it up close, believe it or not, but it looks rugged and windswept. There is in fact a road along it, so I was´nt imagining the noise of cars. There are kind of a lot of cars actually, for a place that has less than 4000 people, and no place to go. If I was dictator of the place, I´d mandate a maximum, and encourage more mopeds horses and bikes--but that´s why I´ll never get elected to anything.
Rather than the grassy parking lot Í´d been led to believe that I´d find here from reading Collapse, It´s quite lovely. Not lush by any stretch, but the village area (the only area I´ve seen yet) is lined with trees and wonderfully familiar weeds. I expect that if Earthlings terraform the moons of Jupiter, it will be a matter of months before there are Dandelions, woodsorrel, crabgrass and purslane growing there, whether they are planted deliberately or not.
Dogs are plentiful, and may be owned or not--mostly german shepard-spitz type mutts, wary of people. A few horses mill around like immense pigeons, never fleeing, but never allowing approach. A couple food stores keep cats--evidence, one supposes, of the presence of mice and or rats. Wild birds species are two in number. House sparrows are the minority race, with attractive grey and white finches, Diuca diuca outnumbering them.
The weather is superb for a winter´s day--sunny and hovering around 70. Soon we will head out for lunch. The internet connection is slow, so I´m abandoning livejournal, and I´ll check my hotmail to talk to my lovely wife, if she´s reading this. I miss you baby.
Next missive tomorrow or the next day.
I hesitate to call it a "misadventure" because neither of us has been injured (knock wood). We have suffered long delays on the runway, lost luggage (mine), currency changing goofs (mine again), and tried to go to the Santiago zoo on the one of the year that it´s free and thousands of families bring their children in. But if there are any rules to complaining, one should be that it´s not allowed when you are in a place that most people will never go. First impressions of Rapa Nui are that it´s dark and wet, arriving as we did at night in the rain. Our guide for our visit is a hyper American archaeologist named Dale. He has the enthusiasm of a whole tent´s worth of camp counselors, and promises to show us 60% of the archaeological sites on the island
Since the sight of the island are so far hidden, I´ll report on the sounds. The plane we arrived on just left for Tahiti. The sound of an airplane taking off must be the loudest sound this place has had since the volcanoes were active. A pleasant roar out our unlockable sliding door is the ocean--I suppose on an island this small you always hear it. Glancing outside I see palm fronds swaying, so the roar may also be the wind. A dog barked distantly, as we made our way to the hotel. I keep imagining Í´m hearing highway traffic, which in a way is a sad comment on my expectations.
(now We´ve spent the morning walking around in the sunshine, and I´m just typing off the top of my head)
The ocean sounded close because our room faces it, about 100 feet away. We haven´t seen it up close, believe it or not, but it looks rugged and windswept. There is in fact a road along it, so I was´nt imagining the noise of cars. There are kind of a lot of cars actually, for a place that has less than 4000 people, and no place to go. If I was dictator of the place, I´d mandate a maximum, and encourage more mopeds horses and bikes--but that´s why I´ll never get elected to anything.
Rather than the grassy parking lot Í´d been led to believe that I´d find here from reading Collapse, It´s quite lovely. Not lush by any stretch, but the village area (the only area I´ve seen yet) is lined with trees and wonderfully familiar weeds. I expect that if Earthlings terraform the moons of Jupiter, it will be a matter of months before there are Dandelions, woodsorrel, crabgrass and purslane growing there, whether they are planted deliberately or not.
Dogs are plentiful, and may be owned or not--mostly german shepard-spitz type mutts, wary of people. A few horses mill around like immense pigeons, never fleeing, but never allowing approach. A couple food stores keep cats--evidence, one supposes, of the presence of mice and or rats. Wild birds species are two in number. House sparrows are the minority race, with attractive grey and white finches, Diuca diuca outnumbering them.
The weather is superb for a winter´s day--sunny and hovering around 70. Soon we will head out for lunch. The internet connection is slow, so I´m abandoning livejournal, and I´ll check my hotmail to talk to my lovely wife, if she´s reading this. I miss you baby.
Next missive tomorrow or the next day.
