In the Middle of Nowhere

Easter Island - or Rapa Nui, in the local language - is perhaps the most isolated inhabited island on Earth, almost half-way between Chile (3,700 km to the East) and Tahiti (4,200 km to the West). One might assume that it could be the stage for native, endogenous, unique species of fauna or flora, like Australia, or where animals behave unafraid of humans, like the Galapagos. Instead it's rather infertile, no lush vegetation,  no significant species to boast. A barren land, grass and bushes, the few trees being those introduced from faraway places. A Pacific island unlike the tropical paradise associated with the idea of a Pacific island, with just two small beaches but cliffs galore. Still it captures the imagination of so many, whether their interests lie in archaeology, anthropology, extraterrestrials, mysticism or exoticism for the sake of it. Not for their natural wonders, that's for sure.

What makes it unique is the civilization that blossomed in such isolation, developing their own set of rituals, their music, their dance, the MOAI. The cultural expressions, including the language, actually don't differ that much from what is found in French Polynesia, where the Rapa Nui apparently came from. But they started the main feature the island is known for, developing an obsession with the construction of ever-bigger rock statues - apparently for the protection of the dead clan chiefs on their tombs, statues that despite having singular facial features, are instantly recognized in their shape and proportions, becoming a sort of international icon, almost a brand and a symbol of mystery, a word in the dictionary.


Apparently - yes, assumptions still overwhelm known certainties about the Rapa Nui - the construction of the moai over 800 years led to the felling of all the island trees (for transportation of the heavy statues from the quarries to their platforms on the coast), impeding the building of large canoes that would ensure long-distance fishing and thus feed the increasing population, the resulting hunger and the hardships of rock carving ultimately leading to war, when the working Short Ears people revolted against the ruling Long Ears and toppled all the moai from their platforms. This time, decimation and havoc were not caused by Spaniards or other colonizer hungry for the islands non-existing precious metals or riches, but by the native population with their hardly unique moral and ethical dilemmas associated with vanity, pursuit of power, revolt against oppression and fight for scarce resources.


Paradoxically, the very moai that almost led to the extinction of a civilization are the ones that ensure today a livelihood for the local population of Easter Island, entirely dependent on tourism and related activities. But no mistakes here, the moai are fewer than one might imagine, maybe smaller than their iconic representation might suggest and the few that are standing were raised to their platforms more as a show of where and how they originally stood. Still they cut a powerful figure against a sometimes unappealing backdrop. What remains in their appeal must be left to the history they represent and the viewer's imagination - and maybe it's the extent of the imagination employed that gives the measure of how interesting - and worthwhile - is a visit to faraway Easter Island.