For me, Mystery Island, Vanuatu, was well named. Vanuatu, which we visited on March 19, 2029, was my 125th country, but it was a place I knew nothing about. Vanuatu was named New Hebrides (New Scotland) by Captain Cook in 1774 and adopted the name of Vanuatu upon independence in 1980. I was first disappointed when our ship changed its itinerary from docking at Vanuatu's capitol, Port Vila, to remote and rural Mystery Island. However, that turned out to be serendipity. We had an idyllic day, snorkeling all morning and then taking a speedboat to a remote native village in the afternoon.
We were greeted with native music.
Dave is a reluctant snorkeler. He usually stays in the boat, keeping an eye on me as I revel in the underwater fish and coral. "You always head off in a different direction from everyone else, but eventually realize you're going in the wrong direction," he sighed.
We traveled by boat an extra 20 minutes to reach the rural town where we met our local guide.
Dogs and chickens wandered the beach, and children hurried to the island school, carrying backpacks of books.
As we walked through the village, we passed thatched roof homes, a church, and a tsunami evacuation sign (the Western word has reached Vanuatu to that extent).
The town had prepared a "native experience" that included men in battle gear leaping at us with spears as we entered the area where our instruction took place.
An elderly man assisted in the instruction, including showing all the ways that bamboo was used in the town, including making chicken coops.
One woman showed how she made baskets and another woman, with her child, cooked breadfruit for us over coals.
A guide who spoke English described native customs, crafts, and food.
We then shared a feast of native foods and wandered a garden, where the guide identified native trees, statues, and flowers.
As we passed the soccer field, on our way back to the beach, we saw the schoolchildren playing.
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