June 3, 2016 – They May Take Our Lives But They’ll Never Take Our Free Day!

June 3, 2016 – They May Take Our Lives But They’ll Never Take Our Free Day!
This afternoon I committed a cardinal sin of a tourist – I forgot to take my camera with me. I went for a short 6 mile run to clear my head and shake off the cobwebs for the marathon this weekend and left my iPhone in the hotel room. I purposely didn’t want to take music with me so I could enjoy the sounds of the island… and hear if a car was coming up on me. But I still should have been carrying my phone/camera to grab photos along the way.
And wouldn’t you know it – there were at least THREE photo ops I missed as a result. One was the home made mini-golf course on Rapa Nui. The second was a Moai opportunity with me rocking me 50 Somewhere amidst the roads into the island, with open fields and swaying grasses in the strong winds, a pack of wild horses came at me on the road. They were like a team of baseball players emerging from the Field of Dreams in Iowa. As I approached, I found myself muttering to myself, “The horses have the right of the way… the horses have the right of way. Approach them head-on, don’t approach them from the side…” and as I gave way, the stream of horses parted like the Red Sea… and that when the pack of roaming but surprisingly friendly and docile wild dogs of the island came in from the other side. They weren’t herding the horses; it was just a convergence of three types of travelers on the road. None of us seemed to know who to yield the right of way to… as if we had come to a three way stop-sign simultaneously and each was trying to motion another to go first. And much like that scene in LA Story where the four cars at a four way stop sign then all proceed at once, our paths crossed as one. There was no smash of bodies or crushing of limbs but there was a free flow of movement, a ballet of animal on a journey that had there been a camera going would have been one of those Terence Malick cinematic enigmas of higher meaning. And much like the majority of Terence Malick’s work, I’m not 100% sure I understood what happened… I just know it was kinda beautiful and transfixing. Just as quickly as the moment came, it was gone and I was left alone on the solitary road of Rapa Nui. I carried on, changed by the experience and yet unsure if it had actually happened or if it had been perhaps a fever dream repercussion of the faux concussion I sustained at the airport a few days ago. Without photographic evidence, all I have to rely on is my own memory… and woe is the one who relies on that. In this social media age, if there’s no photo to post on Facebook, did it really happen? My Luddite leanings say strike back for the stories we tell, words matter, and sometimes a thousand words are better than a picture.
Earlier in the day, Mom and I embarked on a stroll through the town center. Easter Island has but one main city, a place called Hanga Roa. Our hotel is probably a half mile from the center proper, situated near my first Moai sighting on the town’s pier and right next to the city soccer fields. This is also supposedly where the start and finish for the Marathon will be on Sunday. But I’ve grown less confident in that information as this day has progressed. But more on that in a moment.
Our first order of the day was to stop into the Rapa Nui post office to get a special visa stamp for our passports. It’s not an official thing, there’s no Easter Island immigration official. It’s literally a stamp tied to an ink pad and a “Tip” box that you self-serve stomp into your passport. Honestly afterwards I wondered about the legality or propriety of stamping something into an official US Document… but what the hell, right? I got a Russian station stamp from Antarctica so why not a Moai Head stamp from Easter Island? Besides, it seems to be one of THE things to do on the island.
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From there, we walked through various souvenir shops wherein I finally bought a Moai head magnet for 1000 Chilean pesos and made it to the top of the hill where the Catholic Church of Rapa Nui was situated. This is also the tsunami evacuation point, something that seems incredibly silly to me… if a tsunami hits this place, I can’t really see much of anything surviving. But it is higher ground and I suppose at the height of catastrophe religion is a beacon of hope. Still, I think I’d be heading to the highest point on the island, the top of one of the three triangulated volcanoes called Maunga Terevaka.
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This church was an amalgamation of Rapa Nui imagery with Catholicism motifs. There was a large Birdman Cult statue in the back, and the various wooden carvings of saints and biblical representations of Christ had a distinctly Moai head vibe – elongated heads with large earlobes, fingers seemingly at the belly. It was an unusual place and I’m glad we saw it… and I suppose if I walked out of the church doors and looked out onto the waters of the island with the sun reflecting off the crashing waves, well, maybe I’d be more inclined to believe in God too… so it’s well placed.
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Ambling back to the city center, I couldn’t help but notice the local movie theater attached to a hotel had a special screening. Or should I say, it had MANY special screenings. Because when in Easter Island, what ELSE would be showing at the movie theater?
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I like to imagine the locals opening up the newspaper to see what’s playing and thinking, “Again?! C’mon!
I mean, jeez, you’d think at LEAST they’d alternate showings with the biopic on Thor Heyerdahl called Kon Tiki (2014) or maybe the episodes of Third Rock From The Sun with William Shatner (wherein he plays the alien leader, “The Big Giant Head!”)
Unfortunately, here is where our story takes a turn for the worse. We ran into Karen and Mark Bras as they were biking the island. That not the turn for the worse – they’re lovely folks and I snagged a quick photo with them at the city center’s Moai that came out pretty well:
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No, the problem arose when they told us the opening ceremony we had been told was scheduled for tonight at 8:30 PM apparently happened LAST NIGHT at 8:30 PM. They said they were actually surprised we weren’t there. I pulled up the itinerary sent to me by TravellingFit and it definitely says the opening ceremony was slated for Friday night at 8:30. It’s possible that this was some other event exclusive to Marathon Tours or maybe there’s another opening ceremony tonight. But I have no idea who to speak to in order to find this out. I’ve sent a disappointed email to the TravellingFit office in Australia but due to time zones and distances, I’m not sure if, when, or how they can help me. I have no idea who my ground staff contact is here but I’ve left word with the Race Director that I’ve gotten conflicting information on the activities and events relating to the Marathon and I really, really need to see him today to discuss. So far, no luck. But today featured the triathlon events of the race weekend so I’m sure he’s busy… and indeed I thought it odd that the opening ceremonies would happen AFTER the triathlon but I assumed that was to ensure everybody was here. I have no idea and I’m frustrated, angry, and disappointed in TravellingFit at the moment as I feel completely and utterly abandoned, with no support or assistance. I’m trying to put on a brave face so my Mom doesn’t know how upset I am but I’m not doing a very good job.
To try and rally, my solution was food and alcohol. Not perhaps the best stress reliever but screw it, I’m on runcation.
Mom and I debated about our lunch options and wound up at a place right on the beach called Pea RestoBar. It turned out to be absolutely lovely and we made a great choice. We opted to split a chicken quesadilla and have a couple of pisco sours (our new favorite drink!). We were the only ones there and the server spoke only Spanish. As with this morning when I successfully purchased a Coca-Cola Light from the convenience store super Mercado up the street from our hotel, I was able to use my broken Spanish from years long past to sorta, kinda, convey what we wanted and the owner/operator was trying their best to understand me. We succeeded and it’s the little things in international travel – to successfully order what you wanted to eat and drink feels like cracking the Rosetta Stone and uncovering King Tut’s tomb all in one. Victory! Success! I’m the greatest explorer since Magellan! And he DIED on his expedition so you know what? I’m BETTER than Magellan!
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I don’t know what they marinated that chicken in, but it was delicious… and as Mom and I often say, we’re suckers for caramelized onions. Mom went so far as to say she feels sorry for regular onions who never get to know how beloved they’d be if only they’d get the chance to be caramelized. I wholeheartedly agree with her… even if that oddly enough sounds borderline onion-ist discriminatory.
Returning to the hotel, I was tired but thought I should try and rally and go for a run… and you’ve already heard that part of the story.
On my route back, I did find a great Moai just up the road from our hotel. Mom was up for a short walk to shoot my “Big Giant Head” pic I’ve been longing to do. Unfortunately, I almost got her arrested. There were stairs leading up to the Moai and I told her to stand on them to get a better angle for the shot… she asked if it was okay given that we were told as one of the three rules of Rapa Nui that we shouldn’t walk on the Ahus. I said there wasn’t a sign and there were stairs so I figured we were okay. Just as I was snapping a shot, a park ranger car came around the bend and yelled at us in Spanish. We eventually figured out that we weren’t supposed to be standing on the steps. It wasn’t quite an international incident and I’m sure isn’t the first time it’s happened, but I still felt horrible for pressuring my Mom into committing a crime. She was coerced, Chile! I swear! It’s my fault! Don’t blame her! And honestly, had there been a sign as there has been AT EVERY OTHER MOAI WE’VE BEEN TO, we wouldn’t have done it. Once again I rely on information and precedent and get screwed. Story of this day and this trip, I guess.
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It’s 9:09 PM. We had a lovely dinner with some MarathonTours people at the restaurant not too far from our hotel called Mamma Nui. They didn’t have power but could still cook individual pizzas. People in New York City pay small fortunes to dine in the dark and all we had to do was fly to Rapa Nui.
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Jacqui was astonished at the itinerary I had from TravellingFit and that there was no information in the hotel on the day’s activities; to be honest, so am I. She said she’s never known them to do two opening ceremonies but “maybe…” Yet it was a clearly “I don’t really think so but, hey, stranger things have happened…” lilt to the phrasing. And she was quite right.
Mom and I wandered around the city center until 8:40-ish but there was no sign of any opening ceremony. We walked back to the hotel and I snapped a few starlight shots. On the plus side, there were more stars in the sky than I’d seen since my Australia travels. Ironic given that it was an Australian company that had brought me here… and doubly ironic that the last time I had seen such light shows it was an equally problem plagued adventure.
The front desk had not heard from the race director all day; he had heard through other people but not the race officials that numbers were being handed out at the other hotel. I was going to go but bumped into someone who had gone for the mountain bike talk and said only mountain bike participants were getting their bibs for tomorrow’s event; apparently marathoners would get theirs at the pasta dinner tomorrow night. I’m only hearing things through a warped game of Telephone or Whisper Down The Lane. I’m frustrated and angry and I’ve asked to speak to the race director when he gets in, regardless of time, as I really need some information and answers. I’ve also once again emailed TravellingFit expressing my frustration and disappointment at the lack of accurate or even ANY information.
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I sound a bit surly and Oscar the Grouch-y in this post which isn’t entirely my intention. I’m really glad Mom and I are on this trip together; I just feel completely let down by the tour group and race organizers. I’m feeling incredibly under- and inaccurately informed. This was by no means a cheap trip and part of the rationale for using a tour group is to take some of the stress and guess work out of the planning and logistics of such a thing. But I’m feeling like I’m spending way too much time trying to crack the tourist code here.
Still, when you get a chance to snap a photo like this with your Mom, you have to say screw the stress and hassles. It’s hard to beat sharing a moment like this together:
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