Tuvalu is ranked as the world’s least developed, and one of the least visited nations. I visited, accidentally penniless, and left more at peace than I came.
Discover Tuvalu
Tuvalu is a country consisting of a few far flung atolls. It gained notoriety on the world stage when its disappearing land due to global warming was brought to light at a UN assembly. Within the last year there are new claims pointing to the fact that perhaps the country is actually growing. Either way, there is not much land and the main ‘islet’, fongafale, does not contain more than a square mile of landmass.
An airstrip was built on the Fongfale atoll durring WWII. Which means now visitors like you and I can visit the least visited country! Curious what you might find on the world’s least developed, least touristic, and possibly the first disappearing country? Discover Tuvalu!
Leave it All, Literally
I know you have probably been there too. Maybe you are there right now. Worn out. That feeling where life has lost its lustre and you are not sure how you will regain it.
I was there. Worn out and needing to step away. My answer was an eight week sabbatical heading to the most remote countries I could think of. I had just started my eight week extravaganza with a short stay in Samoa and had not yet had a chance to catch up with myself– Tuvalu was just the place I needed.
There is little on the internet about Tuvalu, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. I had found a singular room on airB&B (in all of Tuvalu!), which I booked. I also found I would need to come with Aussie dollars as there is no way to convert or take out money on the island.
Unfortunately, I had forgotten to get AUD amidst the kerfluffle of a quick transfer in Auckland. Only as the plane was boarding did I remember. Whoops! …I managed to get out of security to find a teller that could exchange my few USD to AUD – the best I could do. It was exactly enough to pay for the room I had booked– not a penny more.
I was headed to the least visited country, with not even a penny for food. It was scary and thrilling at once.
Flight of the Turquise
I looked around the plane–surprised to find the surprisingly large plane was comprised mostly of local Tuvalian men. There were, at most, 6 foreign looking faces. The Tuvalians wore flip flops and an assortment of free football shirts from around the world. Some wore sarongs. Most had nothing but some paperwork they held tightly, as well as a bright blue passport — a shockingly blue passport.
I couldn’t quite take my eyes away from those blue passports until the plane approached the atoll. It was then I realized – their passports were the exact same color as the bright blue waters surrounding their homeland. A surreal, can’t stop looking, clear, glassy, turquoise.
We circled above the airstrip a few times. Why? A dog was on the runway! The airstrip is the widest area of land on the atoll, which means it is also the local soccer and volleyball field, meet-up point, and main road. When a flight is coming in, a patrol car with a siren and light advises all to vacate.
Apparently the dog had not gotten the memo. Eventually though, the dog vacated, and we were cleared to land.
The plane landed heading straight for the small terminal, before suddenly pulling into a strange tail spin. I could see the nearby palms rustling and wondered if we would hit the terminal. As we got out, I saw that the tail of the plane was only 2 feet from the terminal. I presume that is the way to land when there is no ground support equipment to later back the plane up.
Arrived, Now What?
I joined the excitement of the handful of foreigners as we got off the plane taking pictures. As I would later find out, while waiting for our delayed outbound flight, none of these foreigner were typical tourists. There was a former Taiwanese news anchor who now travels to every country making videos. There was a delegation of three South Koreans coming to talk to the government about what they can do to help the plight of the disappearing island, there was an Australian UN delegate working on agriculture, and then there was me. I felt honored to be part of the ‘delegation.’
I filled out my bright blue arrival card and walked into the sunlight. As soon as I walked out I realized I was fish out of water. I had no idea where I was going. The host at the place I was staying said she would meet me. How was I to know who she was?
As soon as I walked out I realized I was a fish out of water. I had no idea where I was going. The host at the place I was staying said she would meet me. How was I to know who she was? I ducked though the leaving families and poked into the handcraft market (practically the same building as the terminal). It was a dark room with some stalls – mostly empty with a few people milling about. One vendor had a pan of some kind of dessert and another some sandwiches. That reminded me of my predicament. There would be no food buys for me. I was in Tuvalu penniless.
Eventually, as everyone cleared away from the terminal area, it became clear there was no host looking for me. I asked someone to help point me in the right direction. “Walk down the street.” Of course! …Not like there are many streets to choose from. Luckily, I found my host walking out to greet me, apologizing that she missed me.
Key to the Kingdom
My host gave me a key. An old fashioned long key. Had I but internalized the significance of that key on an island where everything must be shipped miles and miles, maybe I would have held on to it like the key to the kingdom it was.
I was shown to my room. It was homey enough, but as I sat down the loneliness filled. I knew that loneliness would be there on an island like this- small, with not much to distract. Knowing there was no money to spend, no food to eat, just added to that empty feeling.
On one hand I liked the empty feeling, the feeling of being at the end of it all. I imagined that this would be my chance to process the busy years prior. To connect with God, and listen. And being in a fasting state? Why, that would just add to the monk-like experience.
Losing the Kingdom
I went on a twilight run and within a half mile, was out of ‘town’. On one side of the road small thatched huts lined the coast. On the other was the bright blue lagoon. You could touch the coast on either side of the road.
The pink twilight light was magical. A few men were fishing near the shore, a few bathing, while the last few children were playing or popping out of the water and scampering home. I stopped to take it all in before continuing to where the coast became nothing but mangroves. Then it was time to return before the magic light turned to ink.
When I returned to my room, I realized I no longer had that nice long key. I reached deep into my pocket and stretched it every which way. I had been confident that I couldn’t lose anything because it was a zippered pocket. Oops–it had a small hole for a headphone cord that I had never noticed before. The key was heavy, and with each footstep it must have worked its way free.
I had no idea how I would find it, now that it was dark. After following my path back for a little while I realized the futility. The night was already a thick ink and I was deliriously tired.
I returned to see if there was any way I could track down Linda, the house keeper. I found her looking out of the small window of the shop she ran and explained my predicament. We managed to open the door with a promise that I would scour the island the next day to look for it.
Upon successfully prying open my room door, Linda came into the room with me and sat herself down on the bed. She confided that the establishment owner had hired her from Fiji because no one on the island knew the hospitality business. Linda was working hard to create a customer centered atmosphere, but it was not easy to work under the owner who was ‘an angry woman.’ It was also not easy to live in Tuvalu. I could see the pain in her face. To add insult to injury, I had now lost the only key to the room, on an island that did not have a locksmith. She was afraid of the owner’s rage.
A Wringing Untangling
That evening, as darkness settled in I realized just how tired and sick I was.
I spent all too long washing my laundry in the bathroom, knowing that in a place as humid as Tuvalu I would have to wring my clothes till they practically ripped to get them even semi dry. A lot of work.
I sank into bed, hoping to sleep off both my hunger and my mortification. I also felt guilty for imposing my constant ‘losing of things’ habit on an island where a people did not have a’ never- ending’ supply. Thankfully, the quietness of the island was blissful and I quickly fell asleep.
To my dismay, at midnight (and into first daylight), loud music played in the room across the way. I was incredibly annoyed and tried to stuff my earplugs in further. I put my pillow over my head. Finally, I got up to see if I could ask for the music to be turned down. As I got closer, I realized it was Linda. I could hear her singing and I could hear the words of the music. It was Bethel–one of my favorite worship bands. I stopped in my tracks.
Linda was worshiping God to dispel her own life’s frustrations. At once, I felt a connection – both to Linda and to God’s purposes. Linda and I were both ‘alone’ processing our own life frustrations. Yet God was in our midst. Fighting my desire to tell her to turn down the music, I pulled out my Journal. I wrote down my life hopes and frustrations in a prayer to God. I knew it was the beginning of untangling my heart to let God speak.
Bike!
The next morning I resolved to ride the entire island on a bike the owner said I could borrow. It had been left by a European who had brought it to vacation. Thank you, whoever you are.
I started retracing my steps from the night before. To my frustration I did not find the key. The challenge was compounded by the fact that the edge of the road where I had run was now flooded from the night showers–hiding any key that might have landed there.
I did, however, find a WWII sunken ship, a bus that reminded me of the Philippines, roadside hammocks, and mangroves that led to coral lined remains of a ‘sinking’ atoll. I found the hospital, a strikingly sizable building, and the school where uniforms are also the same bright blue as the lagoon.
Tuvaluan Play Time
With still no sign of “the key”, I continued my runs around the island. In the evenings, the best spot to be is on the airstrip. There you are likely to find a dozen different soccer games, some pickup volleyball, Frisbee and, of course, running. The biggest game of all seemed to be the “drive- in” where you park you motor bike and simply hang out and watch. Everyone is friendly, and will gladly let you join in as well.
One evening after leaving the commotion of the airstrip I found myself at Queen Elisabeth Park, just opposite the airstrip. It is a generous size of land covered in perfectly raked sand. It struck me as odd that while it didn’t seem off limits, I never saw anyone there. I guesstimate it just felt too official–reserved for when the royals visit. Either way, it faces the lagoon side of island and is a gorgeous place to catch the sunset.
Run done, I plunked myself down on a thatch covered bench and took it in, half wishing for someone to join me.
Then it hit me, I was not alone. God was showing me how much He loves me. I reveled in the thought, and lingered on that bench until the light had left and I had to stumble to find my way back to my room.
Time to Go
The day came for my departure. I took out my ‘real’ camera and tried to walk around town to capture some images of this endearing town and people. The puttering motorbikes stacked with people, drenched kids running out of the water and across the road toward home, and families lazily biding time, visible through their raised pandan thatched huts. All that blue, blue water. I lost those pictures (like I did my key), but those memories are still there.
I was nervous as to how the owner would respond to the fact that I had yet to find my key. She was not pleased. She wanted me to pay $30AUD for getting the door re-locked. More than fair but the problem remained that I had only exactly enough to cover the room, and not a penny extra.
Linda the hostess tried to help me scheme and offer alternate ideas of how we could repay the lady. Our best solution was to go to the airport and find another passenger from whom I could borrow money from and then repay when we returned to Aukland. At the moment it seemed a genius way to deal with my own double blunder–first of forgetting to get AUD, and second for losing a key on a resource-scarce island.
Borrowing for Life
I walked to the airport, found a Belgian man who still had some Australian dollars and was willing to help me. Hooray! I went and paid my dues before returning to the airport to wait the needless hours required before check-in. To my surprise, before the plane left, the owner (whose key I had lost), came to bring me a shell necklace and bid me fairwell. It was a nice touch and felt genuine. Linda informed me that the owner had actually liked me.
And so I left Tuvalu, feeling privileged to have experienced the island’s mystique and the warm people. I felt more centered and peaceful, having had the space and time to contemplate in an otherworldly experience.
…I have mixed feelings for how Tuvalu will continue to operate. How can people within this country be more rightfully employed on an island devoid of so many resources–including diminishing land? I learned that those men on the plane with bright blue passports are often forever indebted to those who help them fly out to find work. It’s not an optimal solution, and certainly more binding than my borrowing from the Belgian man. How can families stay together without indebting a capable man, simply to survive? Perhaps tourism will be the answer, it though it would need to be developed in a very sustainable way.
Should you be feeling overwhelmed, the answer is probably not to fly to a remote island. It’s likely that all you need to do is drop a few of your “to-do’s” and press reset. You certainly don’t need to fly all the way to Tuvalu to do that. BUT – if you are interested in heading to one of the least visited nations, I can tell you that Tuvalu is a charming place to bide your time, watch a different pace of life, see spectacular sunsets and mind-blowing azure turquoise waters.
