3700km away from the Chilean coast in the middle of the Pacific ocean, Rapa Nui has always been one of those places in the world that I have nurtured lovingly in my imagination. I have thought of it as a place where deep mysteries still prevail, and where secrets are still kept. In a world where prettty much everything else has been given a logical and perhaps disappointing explanation, this has always seemed like an extremely appealing quality to me. Before I arrived I had already constructed the island like a 3D dream in my mi
nd, and of course this kind of projection can cause problems when it clashes with reality. My dream was composed of cut outs from magazines, the televised exploration by David Attenbolough, and books about European voyagers like Captain Cook who had landed on the island when parts of the world were still just topographical speculation.
But really and truly, and using this cliche with high-pitched delight, it was even better than I had imagined!
nd, and of course this kind of projection can cause problems when it clashes with reality. My dream was composed of cut outs from magazines, the televised exploration by David Attenbolough, and books about European voyagers like Captain Cook who had landed on the island when parts of the world were still just topographical speculation. But really and truly, and using this cliche with high-pitched delight, it was even better than I had imagined!
I think that the best known questions about the island are as follows:
How did the Moai (stone statues) get to their current positions on the island?
What caused the civil conflict that led to the toppling of the Moais?
What ancient stories are preserved in pictograph skript on the wooden tablets found by archeologiest?
I gather from my trip that the answer to all of the above questions have been tackled by different theorists, but there are conflicting views and problems with each. Due to the external blows of disease brought by foreigners and imposed slavery, many of the elders who posessed knowledge of the islands history and written language died leaving much information lost to time.
The traditional story goes that the Moia were calved at the Rano Raraku volcanoe and then got up and walked to take their position on the coastal Ahus....
We enter the quarry in the first hours of day light; a deep silence has settled into the vast crator inside the summit. All around us gigantic grey forms twist and emerge at every angle from the dry earth. Foreheads, ears, parts of torsos are visible, and the more you look the more Moia can be spotted still half merged into the slabs of sedimanted rock above. It is as though a brave troop of giants from the underworld had made the long journey to the earths surface, and then been petrified in the sunlight before they had chance to fully emerge. The rest of the bodies are indeed bueried in the earth where they stand.
The thing I realised about the island is that it doesnt need to remain mysterious to be incredible. Standing at the sights of the vaious restored Ahu 
(ceremonial platforms) I was completely overwhelmed by the presence of such powerful images which were the obvious direction of devotion for generations of people. Their endurance through civil strife, tsunamis and 100s of years of abandonment also gave me strong feelings when stood beneath their proud, damaged faces. To me they were powerful images of human belief aswell as archelogical wonders. When I read about the troubled history of the islanders the Moia became symbolic of the struggle to preserve a collective memory.
(ceremonial platforms) I was completely overwhelmed by the presence of such powerful images which were the obvious direction of devotion for generations of people. Their endurance through civil strife, tsunamis and 100s of years of abandonment also gave me strong feelings when stood beneath their proud, damaged faces. To me they were powerful images of human belief aswell as archelogical wonders. When I read about the troubled history of the islanders the Moia became symbolic of the struggle to preserve a collective memory. Aside from that, they are simply super-cool.
We set off on long walks around the island, loaded up with picnics and maps. There is only one inhabited town (Hanga Roa) and so it is easy to feel like you 
might be the only people there at times. There are cave networks running underneath the island formed by lava flows, and the entrances pop up all over in the windswept grassy fields that compose most of the landscape. Chestnut horses roam free in little family units; fluffed up sparrows perch on the heads of the Moai, completely oblivious to it all.
might be the only people there at times. There are cave networks running underneath the island formed by lava flows, and the entrances pop up all over in the windswept grassy fields that compose most of the landscape. Chestnut horses roam free in little family units; fluffed up sparrows perch on the heads of the Moai, completely oblivious to it all. We climbed to the highest point of the island (getting lost once and ending up at pineapple farm) where we could see the wild blue yonder in a complete circle around us. This is the most coherant sense I´ve ever had of the world as a minute sphere hurtling through space; it was like you could see its dimensions disappearing into the fret on the brow of the circle horizon.
1 comment:
As always , Sophie, your writing leaves me wide eyed with admiration at your talent. i am completely transported whilst reading your reflections. If i could work out how to comment more easily i would say much more. i cant wait to see your book on the shelves of book shops everywhere.
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