Our host Timei eagerly waits for us as we exit the plane. He left Tarawa six years ago to escape an uncertain future and living conditions made worse by the relentless rise of sea level and overpopulation. Incidentally, he waited for us on the same flight one week ago, in vain. “I mixed up the dates” he says laughing, showing a bright white smile that contrasts with his dark Polynesian skin.
“Our family is so impatient to show you our little piece of heaven. Christmas Island is a true gift of the gods” he says mischievously, as we pile up in his rundown minivan. “ I want to show you why I love this island so much, it’s the largest atoll in the world…and I believe I know where to find what you are looking for” he concludes, enigmatic, as we drive along the only asphalt road on the island. It runs through a forest of coconut trees, surrounded by water. On one side the deep, dark blue of the Pacific ocean, and on the other, a pale and blinding blue, almost white, characteristic of a sandy lagoon.
