The most beautiful place in the world

The more it changes, the more time stands still

I hail from the (currently not-so-Golden) State of California, but my father is from Rarotonga; thus my relationship with this island began when I was six months old, and grew each time I returned to the family, the feasts and the flora that make Rarotonga special for me. Of course, Raro doesn’t exist outside the scope of the almighty force of Globalization, and it’s ever-evolving, the depth of change growing more apparent each time I visit.
We’re all aware that globalization has impacted (and continues to impact) the island economically, ecologically and socially, directly and indirectly, generally and specifically.
There are the obvious changes: resorts and rental car agencies have sprouted like mushrooms, a response to an increase in the flow of camera-happy visitors. Surf-magazine advertisements that beckon the young and party-prone have created a niche that the entrepreneurial-minded have rushed to fill with surf shops and nightclubs.
Foreign interest has given rise to the imposing buildings that tower over Avarua. More cars, newer technology and Internet cafes -- the typical offshoots of a globalizing economy -- are as evident here as anywhere else.
There are the inevitable negative changes: tourists laden with cash become natural targets of crime, of the burglars and swimsuit-snatchers that pick at locks and clotheslines.
Western influence eats at the edges of the island lifestyle; larger landmasses beckon to herds of young people.
And there are the positive changes: tourists cycle money through the local economy, whether they’re spending it on a paw paw, a driving license or a full-back tattoo.
Change reaches into every corner of island life, but whether it’s good, bad or ugly depends
on who you’re asking. I think everyone can agree, though, that the rapidity and totality of change also highlights the resilience of the culture; though it might be fraying at the edges, its core is strong. Raro is still a place governed by hospitality, generosity and a lightness of spirit that you’ll not find where I come from.
It’s still a place where you can expect a neckful of eis proffered by an airport greeting committee in the wee hours of the morning; where a diet stands not a chance against the frequency of family feasts; where bare feet and a pareu are acceptable luncheon attire.
It’s still a place that’s managed to fend off big-name chains; where churches outnumber roads; where time stands still. And maybe I’m biased, but it’s still the most beautiful place in the world.

Herald Issue 463 10 June
- World famous activist assisting residents
- Budget will decide if residents prosecute Government over landfill
- Forestry project sucking Mangaia dry
- Budget 2010 – fiasco or disaster?