Getting Stoned With Savages - J. Maarten Troost [62]
Mount Yasur was the most famous landmark in Vanuatu, and the few visitors who traveled to Tanna paid hefty sums for the privilege of ascending its peak. Since my trip to Malekula, I had come to appreciate outer-island tourism, such as it is, in Vanuatu. The islands are hard to get to. They lack roads, electricity, running water, and pretty much everything else that all but your more intrepid traveler yearns for on a vacation. There is no threat of a Hilton resort opening up on an outer island anytime soon. And yet, for the privilege of traipsing about the mud on an island infested with malaria, sleeping in primitive shelters lacking in amenities, and dining on food that is, at best, a nutritional chore to be endured, visitors find themselves hemorrhaging money. Want to see a kastom dance? 2,000 vatu. See a waterfall? 1,500 vatu. Climb a volcano? 5,000 vatu. See a circumcision ceremony? 10,000 vatu. In the end, it would be much cheaper to take the package deal to Bora-Bora. But what I liked about visiting the outer islands of Vanuatu was that not a dime of what one spends leaves the island. Everything goes to the villages, and you feel good knowing that you have done nothing to contribute to the delinquency of Paris Hilton.
The truck began its ascent, following a steep path that climbed a ridge. Simi seemed to be perking up. So far, both of us had spent the trip silently curled deep within ourselves, seeking to fend off the wet cold.
“Have you been to the volcano many times now?” I asked him.
“Yes,” he said, “many times.” He paused for a moment. “But it is not the kastom to go to the volcano.”
“In kastom times, people didn’t go to the top of the volcano?”
“No. It was taboo.”
Indeed, Cook had tried to march toward Mount Yasur on his own. Fortunately for him, he soon discovered that without a guide the trek would prove to be too daunting, and he turned around, just in time to encounter thirty armed warriors who had been dispatched to prevent him from approaching the volcano.
“So what’s it like up there?” I ventured.
“You must pay attention,” Simi said. “When the magma comes up over the rim, do not run.”
“Do not run?”
“No, do not run. You must stop and watch where it goes, and then you can get out of the way.”
I was certainly awake now.
“Yasur is very unpredictable,” Simi continued. “It can change at any time. It is very dangerous.”
“Do you like going to Yasur?”
“No. I do not like it.”
Joseph stopped the truck. We had arrived. Immediately, we heard the whooshing, the volcano breathing. It sounded like a sloshing ocean encased within a chamber of stone. The putrid smell of sulfur was overwhelming. With unsettling frequency there were loud blasts, explosions. The drizzle had lifted, and as we alighted from the truck, the ground felt strangely warm under our feet.
Sylvia and I exchanged glances. We were not in our element here. This was not a place for humans. Indeed, this was not a place for life. Even in the darkness, we could sense the desolation.
“Remember,” Joseph said. “When you see the magma come up over the rim, do not run. You must watch where it falls.”
With our flashlights on we followed a narrow trail to the summit, weaving around boulders and steam vents. Whoosh. We could hear fiery blasts. It seemed evident to us why this volcano was taboo. Something else lived here, something fearsome and terrifying. As we crested the rim we were greeted with a swirling cauldron of steam radiating an ethereal red. A gray dawn began to emerge. The crater was nearly a thousand feet across, and seeing these hazy red clouds of steam whirling below was like viewing an immense witches’ brew.
“Be careful,” Simi cautioned. “It is very steep.”
Only a few steps in front of us, the ridge plummeted three hundred feet. We stood as close to the edge as we dared. The ground around us trembled and shook. With each blast, smoke ascended. Magma and lava bombs exploded like firecrackers, arcing across the expanse of the crater, just below the rim. There were three open vents spewing and foaming with magma. As the sky grew lighter