As I recap the logistics, it seems to me, getting to Mount Yasur - an actively sputtering volcano (that humans could somewhat safely see) - requires some level of devotion. And while the most efficient way was still circuitous, our charter plane offered the postcard views I’d looked for at ground level.
Sitting nearly on the pilot’s lap in the cock pit, science met art as all nine of us took to the clouds.
An hour later, south of Efate, we landed on Tanna island, population 29k. A quick stop at the local market showcased the uniforms (yellow shirts on Tuesday, green on Fridays) and the limited goods. I bought a stem full of peanuts, surprised to see them bunched like this.
It’s incredible how some ‘small thing’ can trigger a flood of memories – my dad’s love for roasting and boiling these, how we’d put peanuts into Coca-Cola (especially in the glass bottles) as a treat beachside in East Africa, and the list goes on.
I thought about these unexpected trips down memory lane and what we would pour into our peeps and planet if we were to ‘take action’ every time this happened: connect with dad in real time to share this moment, offer gratitude for the childhood frills, consider a ritual worth reviving … insert your own idea here______________.
What catches and keeps our attention? What makes it into our memory that stays imprinted on us for months and years? I wondered if I was awake and aware of this algorithm, or simply sorting and storing on autopilot.
Soon after our nonchalant briefing and boarding, amidst the blue ceiling, a feeling of awe enveloped me. Suddenly, I was transported to the closeness of the clouds I felt skydiving in New Zealand. Instead of a parachute, this time I floated through the free air, just like the minute droplets of water and particles of ice do, shielded from these clouds by this tiny carcass of an aircraft. I suddenly saw the reflection of our plane, like it was encircled within a hologram stamped against the wispy white sky. I thought of the other winged wonder, a little butterfly I’d noticed earlier in the garden as I sipped my morning (French Press!) coffee, and how its existence was even smaller from this height, but yet, no less mighty and majestic.
What impact do I make when I connect with others and how does that change depending on their viewpoint - be they cliff top or beachside.
When we pivot our position, so too shifts what we scan and see. Ground floor, penthouse, 30k foot views dictate the depth and dimensions of what we deem noteworthy - externally, but also within the shell of ourselves
Once we touch downed, a complex and circuitous 4W drive course ensued for the next two hours. Jolts and jitters were incessant, making it look like we were all shaking our heads with each bump, saying ‘no, no’ throughout the entire ride. The slight showers brought on deep appreciation that the clouds held the rest of the rain high above, lest the mud trenches entrenched us further.
The view of Mount Yasur from afar was looming and as we neared it, the regular rumbles grew in intensity – much like those hunger pang growls that get less and less polite as the final feast is nearly set.
To be in the proximity of a live volcano - be it in the sturdy SUV or swooshing through the skies - requires one to go through great lengths (and heights) for the full experience. And while the lava was a show stopper (stay tuned for the stellar views in the next post!) there were so many other natural wonders enroute.
May we see with clarity, compassion and kindness, regardless of our vantage point,
You are doing it all, girl!!! What a view from the airplane!! Nice market too.
Take care and thanks for sharing
Amin K