EXPLORATION: SOUTH PACIFIC
Home to fewer than 1,000 people, Raivavae is known for its lagoon and well-preserved culture.
In on the Family Secret Two hours from Tahiti, under-the-radar Raivavae can feel like time traveling to pre-tourism Polynesia by MINDY PODER
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R aivavae,” said a fellow passenger in lieu of an introduction. We had both just landed at the island’s airport. My new acquaintance, a French woman who lives on Tahiti, was visiting Raivavae with her hiking club. Each year, the group chooses a different French Polynesian island to trek through. Her reaction didn't surprise me. During my week in French Polynesia, any time I mentioned that I was ending my visit in Raivavae, responses ranged from awkward silence to astonishment. It turns out that even most Tahitians have never set foot on Raivavae, which is just a twohour flight from Tahiti in the Austral Islands. Only one person I met on Bora Bora, a guide, had been to visit family. “It’s still sauvage,” he said, using the French word for “wild,” which seems to serve as a badge of honor throughout the islands. “It’s like ancient Polynesia. People even ride horses to get around.” Fewer than 1,000 people call Raivavae home, and it felt like they had all decided to
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o one comes to
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greet my flight at the airport. Clarisse mimed for me to close my eyes and Local men played the drums. Women took me by the hand so I wouldn’t trip on a wearing their best Polynesian dresses and heis low-lying branch. (flower crowns) welcomed us and offered intri“Viola,” she said, as I opened my eyes. A cately woven leis. Guesthouse owners chatted sequence of shallow pools separated by sandwith their visitors, and no one was in a hurry to bars stretched toward a plant-lined horizon. leave while the musicians played. We were the only people at Motu Piscine. Clarisse, the owner of my guesthouse, Instead of swimming, we gathered yarn-like Pension Vaimano, was born on Raivavae. She strands from a nearby tree. I then followed doesn’t speak much English, but we Clarisse’s lead, weaving them over and LIKE A LOCAL discovered that we share an underunder, over and under, until I achieved standing of Espanol, mas o menos a petite crown that Clarisse fastened to (more or less). She built the pension — a collecthe base of my brimmed hat. tion of four rustic cottages — on family land. On the boat ride back to Clarisse’s car, I Each of the rooms looks out past foliage to Motu spotted her pension’s blue-roofed bungalows, Piscine (which translates to “pool islet”), one of tucked into the mountainside. They were the 28 small islands that stud Raivavae’s lagoon. sole structures visible. To get to Motu Piscine, we drove down the We headed to Clarisse’s dad’s house; her street that hugs the island’s shoreline. At the side other guests — three young French families of the road, Clarisse’s friend was waiting for us. who work in Tahiti — were already there, as After sailing through turquoise waters on well as local artisans. The artists patiently his mustard-colored motorboat, we left him demonstrated how to poke a needle into a to explore a white-sand beach. I watched as small shell and how to secure tiare flowers onto the yellow faded from view, overcome by the an intricate crown. It was meditative, consumarchipelago’s characteristic mist. ing work; I learned that the mat I helped with
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Local artisans show visitors how to create a flower crown.
Raivavae men take apart the ahimaa, or Tahitian oven.
Clarisse, the owner of Pension Vaimano, takes guests to her father’s house (shown here).
would take up to two months to complete. Finally, it was time to enter the family’s small shed and open the ahimaa, an underground Tahitian oven that produces a festive meal of the same name. The night before, I had watched the hourlong, methodical creation of the oven. A hole was dug into the ground and topped with coconut husks and wood, which was then set on fire and layered with volcanic stones and a blanket of banana leaves. Afterward, the food was arranged and covered with branches and steamproducing soil. Now I watched as Clarisse’s cousin took apart his work, layer by layer. Feasting on the ahimaa — which typically consists of unseasoned fish, pork, breadfruit, fruit pudding and bananas — is a special occasion for the family. We sat around the table long after we finished eating. Clarisse, ever the high-touch host, then took me on a tour around Raivavae in her white Nissan, resisting our food comas by blasting a CD of ABBA’s greatest hits. We stopped at the island’s points of interest: a volcanic rock shaped like un hombre (a man), a tiki (located on private property, which I nervously followed Clarisse onto), a marae (an ancient sacrificial site), the wharf, the police station and one of the island’s handful of sparsely merchandised markets carrying shelf-stable items such as Cheetos and boxed wine. I paid for wine and waited in Clarisse’s car — parked beside a pig tied to a tree facing the ocean — as she caught up with the owner. When we arrived back at the guesthouse, I was so in tune with the rhythm of the island that I read more in one sitting than I have in a decade. The next morning, my final day on Raivavae, the sunrise beamed through my window, calling me out onto the terrace. Lured by the light, I walked down to the sand. Standing in my pajamas, I was totally alone — sort of. Tatau, Clarisse’s dog, had followed me from his post and walked with me along the empty road as if he was my own. X
MINDY PODER
The Details: Tahiti Tourisme (www.tahititourisme.com) HOW TO GET THERE To reach Raivavae, Air Tahiti Nui offers daily flights from Los Angeles International Airport to Tahiti’s Faaa International Airport. From Tahiti, regional carrier Air Tahiti flies to Raivavae three days per week. www.airtahitinui.com
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