After the pause caused by my trip to Rapa Nui, I had intended to cover
the
fast-sinking political situation of Chile's Titanic-Lusitania administration, but that can wait another week or two. Several readers
did say that they expected a report on Easter Island, and though my
writings are not generally demand-led, I think it is a subject worth
covering.
THE BACKGROUND I do not wish to join the 150-year old discussion about
the
various mysteries surrounding the island's culture and its famous
statues.
Many great and less great researchers have spent a lot of time, saliva
and
ink on trying to solve the mysteries, but after all that effort I think
it
is pretty safe to say that no new information is likely to be found
which
would result in definitively plugging the deep holes of conjecture, so
it
might all be a waste of time. I would suggest to go and see, take it
all-in
as it is, and enjoy it. Others might disagree and actually take pleasure
in
years of sterile discussions for or against specific theories. I for
one
have always disliked chronic going around in circles, preferring the
sort
of problem that takes you from A to Z, even if you make slow progress
past
C. For those who remember their mathematics classes, the technical
definition of "infinity" is that of a point towards which you always
tend
but never reach. It does not apply to circles. In my 36 year
professional
life, including 30 years as a Latinamericanist commemorated last
week-end,
I have attended too many inconclusive long meetings, so I do not need
to
volunteer for them as intellectual entertainment..
One information which is definitely documented in the archives of
several
foreign ministries is that Chile, short of money between the two
world
wars, desperately tried to flog off that piece of isolated real estate.
It
was offered to the USA and Japan, also probably to Britain and
France.
There were no takers, but it makes the nationalistic antics of the
early
1990's, when the French post office dared issue a series of stamps
about
Polynesian cultures, including one depicting Easter Island, somewhat
silly.
The French ambassador was called-in for explanations and a squadron
of
three Chilean navy ships set sail for the island to protect it against
all
those French postmen planning to invade (by Air Mail, I'm sure).
GEETING THERE (AND BACK) The flag airline LAN has a monopoly on the
route,
with flights either ending there, or going on to Papeete in Tahiti. It
is
an expensive trip (from U$ 600 up, just for the ticket, unless you are
a
native and get a special fare). LAN appears to be schizophrenic about
whether it is a domestic flight or not, because it was impossible, prior
to
the journey, to get precise information as to where one should check-in
for
it at Santiago airport. At the end, it turned out they have special
counters half-way between international and domestic zones. The
flight
takes five to five and a half hours out and, thanks to favourable
trade
winds, between four and four and a half hours on the return trip. To put
it
in perspective, it is like going from London to the Near East. The time
is
two hours behind Chile's, something which is little advertised, and not
too
many people realise.
For those interested in curiosities, the very large runway is due to
an
extension paid-for by NASA, so that it could be used as an
alternative
strip for the Space Shuttle.
LOCAL SOCIETY The estimated 4,000 or so native Pascuense population
reminded me more of North America's modern Indian reservations, rather
than
a colourful local culture as seen say in Bolivia, Guatemala or Peru.
Young
men driving 4X4 pick-ups or more expensive SUVs, or motorbikes for the
more
modest, are the norm. At least on the outside, with the exception of one
or
two girls seen with a flower in their heads, they do not show much
"couleur
locale", and the fact that the islanders are known as being
"laid-back"
cannot be a serious criticism coming from continental Chileans. Mixed
marriages mean that the native language is spoken less and less in
households (though taught at school), but there still are old people who
do
not speak Spanish.
Private life may be more peculiar, and again the comparison with
today's
North American native societies stands. Domestic violence, incest and
drunkenness are frequent according to well-placed local informants (and
I
do not mean tourist guides). Theft is common, as tradition considers
most
property as communal rather than private. Laws are applied in an even
more
lax fashion than on the continent, as I did not see anyone wearing a
seat
belt during the four days we were there, and the application decree
about
the anti-Tobacco law is obviously still on its way from the continent
by
canoe.
There is one modest hospital unable to cope with anything mildly
serious,
and Mrs. Bachelet, who was there a day before us, has now promised a
better
facility. Nowadays, anyone with a serious ailment has to be flown to
the
continent, accompanied by medical staff. You can imagine that if it is
very
urgent, your chances of survival are not that high. Until the
avaricious
tortoises who sign the cheques at Hacienda get round to authorise the
new
hospital, make sure your medical insurance covers emergency air
evacuation
(it is still 5 hours to either Tahiti or the continent, though). There
are
primary and secondary schools, whose level does not seem to be worse
than
the national average, which of course might not be saying much. Still,
it
has managed to produce one virtuoso pianist, the young Mahani Teave who
is
currently studying with the Armenian-born Sergei Babayan in Cleveland.
On
one of my walks by the seaside, I saw three young girls of no more than
10
practising the violin in the open-air, with a teacher.
The island has no river and few underground water resources, so it
depends
heavily on stored rainfall, particularly for agricultural purposes.
Basic
crops and tropical fruit are grown locally, but everything else and
in
particular processed food, has to be imported. There is a monthly
merchant
ship calling with provisions, and the navy's Aquiles transport calls
twice
a year (with a group of invited VIPs aboard), unless of course there is
a
threat from a foreign stamp assault, in which case a squadron is
rushed.
Only two open channels (TVN & La Red) are available, together with a
local
service. The TVN programmes are shown in delayed form so that you can
see
the 9 PM news at 9 PM on the island even though it is 11 PM on the
continent. ENTEL mobile phones work perfectly on much of the island, and
I
spotted and used at least two internet cafés (at four to five times
Santiago prices), apart from any facilities available at the hotels
(about
which more later).
One continental plague is present on the island with a vengeance:
stray
dogs. They are all over the place, particularly in urban areas, and
whenever you sit at a restaurant they are expectantly under and around
your
table permanently. This is not just a nuisance, but also a serious
health
hazard, even in the absence of rabies.
I saw three Navy installations, but strangely, none of them seemed to
have
a guard or in fact any movement in or out.
TOURIST FACILITIES The island currently gets around 28,000 tourists
a
year, and the number is growing. Though this is the number which
visits
Disneyworld on a slow single day, I do not think that hordes of
visitors
could really be coped with. They seem to range from honeymooners to
mature
tour groups, with a good sprinkling of the sort of back packers keen
on
some original karma. Tourism of course is the only economic activity,
beyond subsistence farming and fishing.
Surprisingly, the tourist infrastructure as far the sights and tours
are
concerned is rather impressive. We used the KIAKOE tour agency whose
guides
ranged from OK to very good. Everything is well organised, additional
requests are dealt with happily, and from what one could hear in
other
groups visiting the same sight, guides proficient in various
languages
abounded. What is even more impressive is the quality of the
translation
of public signs in the sites (I read long French and English versions
without a single mistake worth worrying about), and the more popular
sights
have clean toilet and washing facilities. For those not familiar with
Chilean infrastructure, to find a working toilet in a public place,
moreover having a lock, a light, paper and running water, is like lining
up
the jackpot on a Las Vegas slot machine.
Other helpful details which caught my attention included a wire mesh on
a
footpath up a volcano to make it safer and plenty of road signs. What
is
less impressive is the behaviour of many tourists, despite the
prohibitions
and the heroic efforts of the tour guides caught in the dilemma
between
professional courtesy and the obligation to respect conservation
regulations. Behaving like a yob now seems to be globalised. There was
of
course the unfailing Chilean "prepotente" who refused to get away from
the
Moai until his wife had taken the picture. They were the Chinese who
insisted on hugging the statues, until an exasperated guide lied to them
by
saying that the fine if caught would be U$ 10,000. They were the
oversized
Poles (as in Warsaw, rather than Telefonica) who, not content to be in
the
front row of the folkloric show, also had to get up every two minutes
to
take photos, thus blocking the view of everyone else. They were the
three
Englishmen standing and smoking behind me in a closed environment, in
full
breach of Chilean legislation. When I pointed out the illegality of
what
they were doing, instead of putting out, they made obscene gestures
and
carried on smoking. Well, I supposed we have to be grateful there were
no
Israeli visitors. They would probably have bombed the Moais, then
claimed
they had been attacked by them and were acting in self-defence.
The hotel Hanga Roa, where we stayed, could be a very pleasant venue,
even
without the planned refurbishing. Unfortunately, it has an obnoxious
manager who is mentally and physically absent, but has refused to
empower
his staff. These otherwise well-meaning employees cannot take any
initiative in the boss' absence. The establishment, which is supposedly
run
by remote control by a German group in Vitacura, advertises internet
among
its services but fails to inform that it is only Wi-Fi, and should you
not
have a laptop with you, you have to walk the best part of an hour to go
and
come back from the internet cafés. The same manager seems to ignore
the
most basic courtesies (such as saying hello to guests having breakfast
in
the dining room) and the laws of the Republic of Chile, such as the
anti-Tobacco one. To be fair, the Santiago management, when informed
of
these shortcomings, responded immediately and promised to take measures
and
keep me informed. Within a few hours, they had contacted me again
with
details of action taken. Very un-Chilean indeed.
A top-level establishment of the Explora chain is being developed to
cater
for the up-market visitor, currently left to rough it up a bit as none
of
the island's hostelries can claim anything near luxury levels.
Prices of meals and drinks are high, but no more than in a better
Santiago
venue. You will have to pay 10 to 20 thousand pesos for a full meal.
A
French couple just in from Tahiti, for whom I interpreted whilst
waiting
for my wife to surface from a diving expedition, were shocked at the
cost
of a diving session (U$ 60) which they said was over 50 % more than
what
they paid in Moorea.
THE FUTURE The island's small surface area and tiny population mean
that
it would not take much in terms of resources to improve the health
and
education infrastructure, pave a few more roads and seek a better way
of
providing reliable water supplies.
The tourist resource cannot be neglected, particularly the conservation
and
restoration aspects. Whereas foreign academics and their institutions
can
be left to ponder more dead-end theories, the rehabilitation and
conservation of existing statues and other monuments (such as the
expensive
material which should be used as protective coating for stone against
sea-borne erosion) is a matter for the state.
It is unbelievable that Japan, the country with the highest budget
deficit
as a % of GDP, is providing cranes as gifts to lift the statues, when
the
Chilean state has the world's highest surplus, and has it rotting away
in
foreign banks. The mind boggles. 