Standing at the Edge of an Active Volcano: Tanna Island's Treasure
VANUATU
Why am I ok to take these risks in life? Perhaps in my younger days, I might have sought them out for the adrenaline rush, though I’m not sure that was the impetus back then either (PS – I’m still living in my younger days now, just to be clear 😉) Where some might say ‘hell no’ to these experiences, others may chalk it onto their bucket list. In the grand scheme of things, few make them happen.
From the aerial views on our chartered plane ride, a drive to the flat ash plain and through circuitous lush jungles and tree ferns on the southern slope, we finally arrived at Mount Yasur.
Our ‘security briefing’ was beyond basic. The ladies that led us wore flip flops and stood precariously close to the crater’s edge, nonchalantly chatting and kicking at the soft perimeter, unperturbed by the sand-ball that tumbled under their toes, quickly past the point of no return. In that moment, I thought ‘hmm maybe this is what mom meant by “don’t do anything crazy’’.
In truth, I was fine to see the show from a bit further, taking in the wafts of sulphur and feeling the tremble in my toes. Suddenly, our guide gripped my hand and peered over the edge, pointing to a fine and barely visible stream of pink. The rain had created steam, so my initial look at lava was blunted and blurry – but breathtaking in spite of it. The earth’s core was jumping up, and I could see it! How utterly UNbelievable.
Hot lava sputtered and spewed almost like clockwork, every few minutes as Mount Yasur continued to bellow.
The last major eruption was in 1997 and since then, it has sat at a level two risk for many of the years over the past few decades. Aside from a few haphazard stakes in the ground, there was really no safety rail or limit to where one could stand – aside from the innate human desire to not plunge to your death standing at mouth of an active volcano!
Like never before, grade eight geography came alive. Mother Earth’s vitality and power was unquestionable. My existence seemed as brilliant as it did totally tiny. Physics and chemistry were on display while, if you willed, philosophy and theology were also in the arena.
As twilight took over the sky, the show became even more impressive. The spew of molten seemed to catapult higher and longer – or maybe that’s just because we could see more against the darkening sky. I thought of the myopia of my vision. Mount Yasur was showing off from the get go, yet as my eyes adjusted, as my context changed and afforded more contrast, I interpreted the (cyclical) event differently.
How often do we read things from our (limited) vantage points while the Truth is being told, sometimes graciously and patiently waiting (sometimes demanding) for our sight (and action) to acclimatize to it?
And just like that, the thunderous bolt signaled another eruption.
The grey to royal to navy to dark to charcoal transition in the sky happened quickly. As it did, the pink to coral to orange to fiery red equally upped the ante in their vibrancy.
The liquid lava danced up, out and about like each drop was a ballerina making her debut on stage. We stood hugging the perimeter, my mind shifting away from the logistics and location to my feet, and more to the sensation of my sights and spirit. The crescendo and decrescendo of each drop dazzled. The choreography had us hooked to the sequence as molten lava catapulted like Olympic long jumpers, with a clearance that was higher and wider and with what seemed like less breaks in between. Landing on the land, the dollops sizzled like bright embers on campfires not yet ready for the night to swallow the scene.
I was standing here in Vanuatu, front row, at the edge of an active volcano.
Like (liquid) fireworks orchestrated to mark a momentous moment, the cascading glitter leapt up to meet a mesmerized me, showcasing an elegance and magnanimity that was beyond human creation. I could hear it and see it: spraying, sprinkling, spewing, splashing and sploshing as it had done (and may continue to do) for millennia.
But this was also a show for itself. Whether I came to witness it, write about it, rank it or revel in it, the brilliant performance wasn’t specifically for anyone else. I contrasted this to the displays we concoct often as an attempt to highlight our achievements and accolades – for someone else to see.
I wondered the ways and plays we enact for others, to notice, to bolster our CV, to be seen as better, to attract a mate or garner respect from another … perhaps even for ourselves to say to our own self, “you are good enough”.
Every day, we have choices in how to use up our battery and breath. Today, I was grateful I chased the chance to witness the earth’s deepest layers lingering at a level I could witness and honour (in safety and satiety). Standing at Mount Yasur, I murmured to myself, “for this one life you’ve got my love, let’s keep makin’ the most of it.” #YOLO.
May we spend our (limited) time living life Fully,
Amazing! I didn’t realize one could stand so close to the erupting volcano!