Many have read books about expeditions of Kon-Tiki and Ra rafts by Norwegian traveler and scientist Thor Heyerdahl.   Is a difficult  to  imagine such journey,  but Heyerdahl proved that a reasonably ordinary raft could take the ocean. After the Easter Island and other islands in the Pacific Ocean, he showed that the first people came to Polynesia not from Asia (as claimed by most scientists) but from America.

And there was an excellent opportunity for me to visit this island full of many unsolved riddles. I think it would be attractive to everyone to read about this- the small island lost in the wide ranges of an ocean. Heyerdahl ran the isle with a raft.  I have flown an airplane from Chile. It was the end of my journey across South America (from the Land of Fire, through Argentina, Brazil, Chile).

The only LAN-Chile airline is flying passengers to this small island. The plane is landing on 1962 American-built one-way airport. There is only one 5-hour flight from Santiago per day, so there are no tourist jam on the island. The landing path goes very close to the shore, so looking through the illuminator, it seems that the plane goes straight into the water. The island could be reached by boat or sailboat, but of course, only single tourists come in that way.

The name  Easter Island, or Rapa Nui or Te Pito O TE (who in the local language means the world navel or a world ship) was given by the island's first recorded European visitor, the Dutch explorer  Jakob Roggeveen, who encountered it on Easter Sunday 5 April in 1722.  Rapa Nui (big Rapa) coined after the slave raids of the early 1860s  and refers to the island 's topographic resemblance to the Bass Islands of the Austral groups. However, Norwegian explorer Thor Heyerdahl argued that Rapa was the original name of Easter Island and that refugees from there named Rapa Iti.  The island from 1888  belongs to Chile. The Rapanui lands of the locals were redeemed (or occupated) by the Chilean government, which controls construction, businesses and tourist flows in  the island. Captain J. Roggeveen has found three  types   inhabitants of the island: black, red, and white. The first inhabitants of the island are believed to have come from the Polynesian islands, but Heyerdahl thinks that the first inhabitants of the island could have been Americans because in the island he found sweet potatoes that supposedly brought travelers from the Amazon. Island area takes about 163 square km.  (This equates to Kaunas area where I live ).

The great secret of the island is the stone sculptures that locals call moai. Statues are thought to have been created more than 400 years ago, but today they are one of the greatest riddles of archeology. The magnificence, energy, seriousness, and mystery of the sculptures are astounding.

The statues are gouged with soft rocks from the Raraku volcanic tuff, most of them isolated, others lined up on the pedestal and all face to the island, except for one group of seven moai looking at the ocean. Sculptures vary in size: from half a meter to 22 meters in height, most of them scattered on the slopes of the volcano from which material was made. Some of the sculptures on their heads have red stone headgear that resembles Polynesian hairstyles. Heyerdahl argued that it might be the images of the old Vikings, because the faces of these statues are European, and the Viking hairs were brown. The red stone was taken from the mountain PUA PAO to make hats, and in the old Finnish, "red piajo" means "brown head." Maybe statues had a religious purpose, depicted tribal leaders, or perhaps, according to Polynesian customs, embodied the spirits of their ancestors. When the tribal unrest began, the statues began to be destroyed and finally, the creation of them ceased. Currently, there are about 600 sculptures on the island. The 1960s the southern part of the island was devastated by the tsunami, some of the statues were washed, and the tombs underneath them opened. It turned out that some sculptures were tombstones.

Another secret of an island – underground caves, which may have been inhabited by natives.

Smallpox, brought in by  Europeans, was scattered around the island, similar to pox scars are carved in some sculptures. Maybe in the caves, those  infected with this contagious disease were isolated? The caves are very deep and are thought that caves could connect the island with the mainland. The famous underwater world researcher Jean-Jacques Custo wrote about this. (Jacques-Yves Cousteau). The members of the Heyerdahl expedition were able to descend to a depth of 100 meters and found several small statues, including a woman giving birth, which was made of the most rudimentary basalt found only in Africa.

There is another exciting place on Easter Island, besides the moai and caves.Such is the Orango village in the western part of the island. The ancient inhabitants of the island believed the god  Maké Make. He created everything: sun, water, earth, stars. God came to the island by a flying ship, and himself was winged. The primary purpose of this ancient ceremony was to get the Human-Bird Title. The most honorable young tribal men had to dive from the rocky shore to the ocean and sail to the nearby three islets, where the Black Sea swallows hatched the eggs at that time. The first to find a swallow egg and hand it over to his tribal commander became the winner. Seven of the most beautiful women he got for it, and the winner was named Man – Bird and became the vicar of the god of Make Make for one year.

Another mysterious place in the island is the magnetized stone, which warms up to 100 degrees in the sun, and the four adjacent round stones, which precisely redirected to four sides of the world, do not heat up at all. At the same stone, the compass arrow rotates continuously, and the second's indicator of the clock stops completely.  Was found that this stone on the island appeared about 500 years before the first statues have built. To guess who magnetized and polished stone is no response.  Easter Island does not issue its secrets so easily.

   What were we doing on the island? The big entertainment  there is not, it just lovely to be here.

  We went to the carnival period: it's like Mardi Gras feast.   Festival on the island is called "Tapati." It was Interesting to observe a walk of a fun-minded masked and dressed people, in which there were a distinctly different (although in the local tradition was also in the masks and paintings on their bodies ) tourists.

It was interesting to listen to the sounds of melodic songs, to observe rhythmic ceremonies of dancing. The celebration took place on the ocean shore. Persistent sounds of waves, mixed with the rhythms of the songs and dancing, had been worn by mysticism and surrealism. In the shade of light, the dancing shadows created phantasmagoric images.  It was  difficult  to imagine that somewhere far from  there is another, civilized world.  The beef was baked on the bonfires, the whole island the entire night's sounded with music,  songs, and impressive dances.  And all this spree lasted until the sunrise.  

The Island is very excellent for hiking, cycling and horseback riding or windsurfing. In the evenings it was a pleasure to sit in tiny cafes on the ocean shore, to listen to the unrelenting waves of the ocean wave into the coastal cliffs, with a glass of wine. The good was to relax on a white sandy beach and swim under the ocean waves.

The righteous was  T. Hejerdal, saying that "What unites humanity is natural and must be promoted, and, on the contrary, what separates people is artificial and must be defeated."  I think that traveling is a big one for humanity.  When you  travel not only to acquire new knowledge, but also to communicate with people of different cultures.  We only differ to skin color, life, lifestyle, but not feelings: everywhere people love and hate, get married and divorces, grow children and get older. We travel because  we eager to learn about old civilizations that existed before us expand, our knowledge and see how many unexplored civilizations exist in our world.  Rightly wrote the French philosopher R. Descartes (Rene Descartes): "Traveling is almost the same thing to talk with  people of old  centuries." 

Leonarda Sarakauskiene  info@sarakauskiene.lt      More pictures :

Pavadinimas

The history of the origins of Youth Village from the lips of  Lithuanian priest: "When I came to Rwanda in 1968, I mostly worked for the poor and abandoned and for those who had been marginalized by everyone. As I made my way on this pilgrimage through human misery and poverty, I would always be accompanied by youngsters who were pleased to be with me. These very friends one day asked me to think about them too; to think about their futures which at the time seemed to offer no prospects whatsoever. They were illiterate and jobless. I asked what I could do for them in practical terms. The answer I gave was that they wanted to study and learn a trade. So, this is how the idea for the ‘Children's Village' was born."
The 2019 year I started in a meaningful way: I decided to go for volunteering at the Youth Village in Rwanda that was founded by Lithuanian Salesian priest Herman Schulz. Name Herman in Latin means a "man of war." Such is a Lithuanian priest, who celebrated his 50-th anniversary of the priesthood in Lithuania, Klaipeda city on 2018 autumn. The Salesian missionary, benefactor Herman Schulz, most of his life devoted to God, for disadvantaged children, poor and ill people. The 50 years of his service he wittily called "long shot," and admitted: "everything I would repeat." Being of saint J. Bosco follower added:" if you want to become good, do it, and all will go well: enjoy, learn, pray." Priest Herman Schulz I knew a long time ago. I always visit him in his homeland in Lithuania not far from city Kretinga, where he set up "Garden of Youth" in which as the same as in Rwanda finds shelter children from disadvantaged families. In 2018 with a group of tourists we were traveling in Uganda and Rwanda. Being in Rwanda, we visited the Youth Garden. But I was there as a tourist. Hospitable hosts welcomed us; children showed their songs and dances. They spoke to us something in their language one through another one. After this visit I gave the word to myself: I will come back here for volunteering, to help in any works that will be needed. The Garden is home to about 150 wards: orphans, fondling children, collected from the streets, caught in snitching. With older children constantly works volunteers from all over the world, come to prepare their masters works who are studying sociology, psychology, etc. Adults better speak English; communication with them easier. With the smallest ones works the nuns, to whom are difficult to find activities for children, as they so pry, eager. The nuns are busy with daily chores; the checking of lessons and kids often are left on their own. "Our little ones seriously lack communication, many of them do not even know what the words mom, dad, brother means. They know nothing about their relatives, or they have brothers or sisters, where are their parents, why they were thrown into the street" just holding tears was telling the priest. So we were speaking after his jubilee mass in his Lithuanian home.  After that, I said to the priest: I would come and would work with the smallest ones. The priest kindly agreed to take me. After completing the visa formalities, I went for a month. The whole time I was anxious: how children will like me as I don't know their language, how we'll communicate between themselves. In the end, I decided that the easiest way of communication is music. From computer I chose a lot of easy, teaching English songs, cartoons, all it converted into Mp3 format so we could watch and learn even having no internet connection (it was so often).After arrival the next day  I was introduced to the nuns, among which one was speaking English and became my translator. Later I learned a few phrases of the local language. But for us closer brought music and work, as we have worked all together. Here children begin to learn from  5 years old (preschool learning), from 6 years they go to the first class. Education lasts 12 years. Children have to go to the school to the jungle trail about 5 kilometers, for the first shift lessons begins from 8 a.m., for the second- from noon. For the older one's studies lasts from  8 to 5 p.m. Adults and first shift of littles are going together.

When the first shift leaves for school, we with remaining in the Youth Village kids begin every day works: we had to bring firewood for the wood-fired stoves  that's are used for the cooking, to brought grass for the rabbits, to clean territory, to wash the clothes of children. The Youth Village has a great supporting farm: cows, sheep,  hens, grows various vegetables. The farm employs salaried workers. In the country, where the unemployment is at a high level, work on the farm for surrounding villagers is a big financial help.

Padre(as the children and the whole community name a priest), for rural peoples, is a great authority: he is the judge, advisor, even a doctor. He has a big parish and once a week attends sick parishioners giving them money, food, sometimes the medicines. My work has gone one after another. Games, songs, training remained for evenings. Children very willingly and quickly learned English songs, nice chanted in the church. A large celebration was st.J. Bosco birthday. Entire rural communities attended the ceremony. It consisted of various artistic performances, sports competitions, quizzes. Few songs prepared my little children, although we sang in English, the audience caught the rhythm and clapped in rhythm.( it is sad, that Icannot place a video because file is too large) Time ran out quickly. Week changed the week. I did not notice when I came up with my farewell.

For my last evening, the children prepared a small show; poor little ones did not understand why in their language they are singing "muraho, muraho  umuzungu mamma" (goodbye, goodbye white mom ). The next morning, leaving for the airport was very sad: the children understood that there would no be me, we will not be singing songs, will not play football and basketball together, will not be preparing English lessons.

They were too proud because best prepared English lessons in their classes. I left recorded songs in the USB port, but I do not know whether the nuns will have the wish, time, or will have the computer that children did not forget what they learned. During my flight at home, thoughts didn't let me. The kids in the Youth Garden have everything: have where to live, have the opportunity to go to school, are not hungry. When you see, how many African children living in families, do not have access to education, are plundering in the streets hungry and dirty, – think that those children living in the welfare homes of Padre have everything, except only- parental love and warmth of home. And you see- Padre does such  a holy job.

At the age of 18, they have to leave the Youth Garden. Who are good at learning- for those are creating conditions for further studies. Others, practically able to finish only four classes. Such children are learning the crafts (in the Garden Padre has established a craft school). Part of young people, who graduated craft school, Padre gives  work into the farm. For the gifted ones are created conditions to seek further learning. From these grow doctors, lawyers, teachers. Some priests studied in Italy, France. After studies they to work in Africa. Padre's followers work in Kenya, Burundi, Uganda and of course, Rwanda.

We, several volunteers together with Padre, visited his former ward now a priest in Uganda.

Leaving the Youth Garden young people signs a "Code of Honor." There is the promise to dedicate themselves to their profession, seek creative, be honorable and support the Garden and needy. After returning from my volunteering  crazy questions, I have got: what I wanted to prove working for African children (while I was going there I had no idea what kind of work I'll do there), why not to go to some exotic country for rest instead … But I saw a lot of foreign countries and it not the miracle to me. Let me finish my essay by words of B. Shaw: "I want to use as much as possible themselves till death. The harder I work, the more I live. I am happy with my life as it is now." I have a dream that each one of us on any day, in any place would find opportunities to work for good and create hope. Now I know, If I could make it there, I could make it anywhere.

Leonarda Sarakauskiene :info@sarakauskiene.lt

Next : photos

Africa has two seasons: the dry and heavy rains.  Monthly   various seeds slumbering in dry soil , suddenly become alive after the rain drops and cover the land of lush green carpet. African animal sensed  the smell of rain  starts to run out in  one of the largest migration route- from dry empty lands of National Serengeti park in the region of Masai Mara where they find  a lot of grass, bushes and  trees. The migration starts in August and lasts till October- November. Between November and January begins a gradual migration of animals back to the Serengeti. (“Siringitu” in Masai language means “the place where the land is endless.")

We   planned our trip so that we could see this remarkable spectacle. It was peak migration madness time , and we’d watched as hundreds of wildebeest approaching the surging  Mara river, frantically jostling up the steep banks. The million-strong herd was spread on every horizon.   The air is full of primeval African sounds. Increasing zebra snicker merges with sore antelope shout, the snorting and whining. Giraffes stride nodding their long necks and from the high observe the predators in wide endless plains. Elephants patiently follow in a line. At the end of long migratory herbivores columns prowl lions, hyenas, cheetahs, jackals . Above them flutter squads of pink flamingos, Egyptian geese, hawks, eagles.  All this endless column have to cross Mara  river – and there already waiting hungry crocodiles …In that place nature itself decides who will survive and who not The migration felt like being witness to a dramatic historical event, controlled by brutal ,violent forces. It still does. . American traveller McKierman in 1876 described this migration : ”About Africa what I  read in many travel books …if we manage to unleash all the world menageries the sight that I saw that day would be no worth this scenery . I can say that all these impressions couldn’t be photographed  or  told about. You can only feel or see  it. In these moments you can only feel and understand what a huge  price is paid for  survival   in nature: twice a year to do  a stunning circle of life.It embodies scale and mystery , the thin line between survival and destruction , the power to to take life or to transform it. A self- contained,  homogenous, identifiable world,  uncompromissing and irreducible.

The great migration images we left in our memories  and headed   to the  biggest Lake Victoria of Africa.

Its waters surrounded by shores of  Kenya, Tanzania and Uganda. Along the coast there are many small villages of fishermen. Not far from coast we pitched our tents.

Early in the morning we were awakened by the song of fishermen pulling a net. The song spread from the lake so nice, that we couldn’t believe that   a well-turned choir sings. Our route led toward majestic Ngorongoro crater.

Along the way we stopped in the village of local tribe masai. Masai themselves encounters as the highest and most significant African nation. This is militant, livestock tribe.

People live in the small shacks , a small area cordoned off by fence of tree branches. Animals are still an important part of their lives, the more you owe   cows,  the wealthier you are. For the bride they  used   pay with cows.   Masai drink not only cow’s milk, but also the blood. With a thin rod they prick a cow’s jugular vein and lower the blood.  Such mixture is considered to be a source of vitamins.  After shortly talk with the Masai , we headed to the world’s greatest Ngorongoro crater.

The crater was formed millions of years ago after volcano walls were collapsed. Its diameter is more than 20 km ,the height from the bottom is   600 meters. Ngorongoro crater is so huge  that even has a different weather: on one side could be cloudy even rain, on the other- sunshine.

Crater is home to an incredibly rich big game squad : black rhinoceroses, buffaloes, lions. In the middle of crater lies  lake Magadi, in which flamingos like to return  after a major winter migration.

 We set our tents on the edge of slope. We cocooned in our sleeping bags, we held our breath as hyenas, attracted by the smell of a hippo carcass, whooped from the bushes nearby. Somewhere in the vicinity there was a roaring of lions.   Our route led us through Masai lands towards border of Kenya and Tanzania – to   Amboseli National Park. About this park  E.   Hemingway   said “the pearl of Africa”. This is one of the oldest national park’s in Kenya, founded in 1943. The park is situated right next to the border of Tanzania and Kilimanjaro (5895m.)- a lonely mountain peak in the world. Its luminous white hat is seen from Amboseli Park. This is what we saw. Amboseli park is the land of Masai, here are their villages. “Amboseli” in Masai language means shrivelled dust. This park is known as the largest population of elephants, also here lives lions, hyenas, buffaloes and another African fauna.

Goodbye Africa! I do not describe your cities- I just was in only one- Nairoby  from where was my flight. All the time I spent in nature. I do not want to travel through Africa by comfortable bus, live in comfortable hotels. My choice is to sleep in the tent, to cook meals on a campfire. At night I like to see  when   a billion stars cast an eerie light across a landscape of scurrying shadows. And to look for the South Cross above me.

I sincerely wish, that reading my travel descriptions everyone would understand, that in reality everything is much   simpler than we think sometimes.I am glad to be home, but in the all -moving, all-talking mayhem of modern life my restless thoughts go back to to that great and undefind space – Africa. Otherwise, the mystery of of the Great Circle of Life  remains largely unplumbed to me. Except in my dreams , where it still springs vividly to life.

Leonarda Sarakauskiene: info@sarakauskiene.lt

More pictures from my fairy trip :