And so we left Tuvalu, banked right, and headed south towards Fiji giving those of us lucky enough to have a right side window seat an utterly spectacular view of the island I had become to call home. As the strips of turquoise and emerald sailed past, no longer were they nameless, generic, tropical beauties, instead, they now had names, they had a history, a future, they had individual features, and story to tell.
As has so often happened during my time in Tuvalu I completely misread the situation, and after a rushed conversation with the community leader it transpired that the space reserved at the front of the maneapa directly opposite the future King of England and his wife, arguably two of the most famous people in the world wasn’t only reserved for Inaki, oh no, it was also reserved for a now very pale looking palagi wearing a Scout uniform
When a priest can see your nipples, you know something has gone a little awry. Fortunately as my nipples and I crossed the threshold into the church, instead of being met with a barrage of angrily thrown bibles and hymn books, I was met with wide eyes, open mouths, and stifled laughter – much better...
The soft early morning sea breeze on my face, the first rays of the sun peeking over the horizon, the majestic call of the rooster as he announces the promise of a new day – all of these are perfectly acceptable ways to wake up whilst camping - having a whistle blown in your ear at 5.30am however is not; yet this was the reality I faced as tired, confused, and with the shrill whistle still ringing in my left ear, I clumsily untangled myself from my mosquito net, and headed in the dark, to the fale kaupule to see what all the fuss was about...
Ghosts are blamed for a variety of everyday events in Niutao, and we’re not talking about Casper here, these ghosts are anything but friendly. If your bike won’t start, it’s because there is a ghost in the engine. If you don’t catch any fish, the ghosts are stealing your bait. Fall out of a coconut tree , the ghosts have pushed you, and if you get too drunk and wake up with a hangover, you can safely blame it on the ghosts, and fortunately for me they all live in the jungle, specifically at the end of the island where the Scout camp was located – it was time to go ghost hunting.
Cannonball and Uncle Bulgaria dragged us away from the growing crowds, up the gently sloping beach, and onto the back of a waiting pickup truck which then drove us all of 300m down the dirt track which passes as the main road, to the room which I was to call home for the next six weeks. That first night we were treated like kings and welcomed into the community like long lost brothers. A feast had been prepared, and my stomach rejoiced at the thought of some sustenance after being empty for almost three days – little did I know that this was to begin the longest food binge I have ever been asked to undertake
It turns out that trying to understand the shipping schedule in Tuvalu is a bit like trying to discuss the meaning of life in a nightclub – both parties ask the right questions, then follows lots of noise and wildly exaggerated hand gestures, but ultimately no one has a clue what is going on and so the answer is never reached. After peering into my crystal ball, consulting the Rosetta stone, and asking for some local assistance, I came to the conclusion that I needed a ticket for route (ii) whatever that meant...
Congratulations! You’ve almost made it, you’ve survived the barren wasteland of time that sits between Christmas and New Year – the epoch of time traditionally filled only with the making and eating of leftover turkey and ham sandwiches – soon you will have made it off this dog-eared, coffee stained page of the calendar and into the crisp, sweet smelling pages of a brand new year, a year where you can eat more than just Turkey, and the cranberry sauce can return to the back of the fridge until next Christmas to keep the piccalilli company.
Now I would never claim that the work I am doing in Tuvalu will alter the way we look at fundamental scientific theories, however I still find it difficult to convince some people that I am in fact in Tuvalu to work, just like Darwin. I have a job to do, and am not, as some people still think – on holiday.
I never dreamed my first words on national radio would be in Fijian; in fact, until last week I wasn’t even sure Fijian was an actual language, but now, sat in the air-conditioned studios of Fiji Radio One, that’s exactly what I was attempting to speak. Donning the headphones I tried to explain our role as Scout ambassadors to the 60,000 (potential) listeners to the fortnightly Scout radio programme broadcast all over Fiji, and the world – although I think a hastily written Facebook message did little to boost the international audience figures.
During the 25 hour trip from London’s Heathrow (Via Seoul, South Korea) I had plenty of time to think about what arriving in Sydney would be like, and by the time the plane had touched down in the southern hemisphere, I had been expecting to walk off the plane straight into a Ramsey Street pool party, complete with Dr Carl playing his guitar, Toadie throwing some shrimps on the BBQ, and Felicity Scully handing me an ice-cold beer; instead I was met by a lengthy immigration form, a man wanting to know everywhere my shoes had been in the last six months, and a journalist who interviewed me for Sydney radio.
explore v. (ɛkˈsplɔː) 1. The action of travelling through an unfamiliar area in order to learn more about it
