Really, really annoyed! Making a pit stop on our hike to a 1,000-foot waterfall in Daniel’s Bay, Hiva Oa, Harriet and I were enjoying lunch thanks to our new Marquesan friends, Teiki and his wife, Kua. Grilled fresh tuna, just-plucked fruit and veggies, yummy smoothies, their picnic-bench café is lovely, a sunny wonder in the rainforest. It seemed like we’d happened upon the real Marquesas. But Teiki was really annoyed, and I didn’t understand why.
Teiki! Your trees are full of mango, papaya, breadfruit, bananas, oranges, lemons, avocados, pamplemousse. Your land is rich with taro, sweet potato, onion, peppers. The air you breathe is sweet with tiare blossoms. Your home has open-air walls and a tin roof, and a solar-powered, government-subsidized freezer, refrigerator, TV, and stereo. Everything is picture-postcard Paradise. Teiki! Why are you so annoyed?
Tattoos, it turns out. Not Teiki’s tattoos – like almost every Marquesan, his body is adorned with inked-on touchstones that tell the story of his life, his beliefs, his hopes. Letting loose a mashup of island Marquesan-Tahitian-French, some of which I understood, Teiki is on his feet, marching with a wicked-looking spear he’d carved from hardwood – in a skirmish, you’d want this warrior on your side. Teiki doesn’t like the fact that, these days, tattoos are sold to everyone – German backpackers, tourists from the ships, sailors from the yachts – they’re inked onto anyone with a few Euros in their board shorts. In the old days a tattoo was a reward
