More More Moai

Moai on the beach. This time with a blue sky behind them.

Yesterday, I did the Grand Tour of Easter Island.

By the way, "Rapa Nui," the allegedly indigenous name for the island, is Tahitian. It's not native. It came into use fairly recently. The name is as "authentic" as calling it "Easter Island" or "Isla de Pascua." Locals do call it "Rapa Nui. Chilenos call it "Isla de Pascua." Tourists call it "Easter Island." Which one of those am I? Well, I guess for me it'll be "Easter Island".

Oh. There's a moai on the grounds of my hotel. I didn't ask, but I'm fairly certain this is not "authentic." I don't think it dates back to the time of the moai, before the moai were obliterated after the cult of the bird-man took over the island. I don't even think it dates back to the 20th Century. But who am I? An archaeologist?

Hotel grounds aside, there are a few important moai to be seen in close proximity to the village of Hanga Roa. But first:

The local Catholic church. It doesn't have the majesty of Gothic architecture, but it beats suburban-American ultra-bland.

And, on the way to the neighborhood moai, down the hill from the Catholic Church, is the Catholic cemetery.

There's even a moai doubling as a headstone in here.

Pretty sure that contradicts official Catholic dogma. but, hey, we got Pope Francis now. Anything goes.

But the walk isn't long to my destination du jour: Ahu Tahai.

That one is for those who like a horse in the foreground of their moai shot.

This one is for those who prefer their beachfront horses sans moai:

Or, if you prefer, a dog's life:

Back to today's featured attraction.

It's not them. They're not today's featured attaction. Impressive as a line of moai on a beautiful beach (on a sunny day!) may be.

These are just the opening act: a line of five moai, with the sixth is gone and not to be replaced or re-raised ever again (they don't do re-raising of fallen moai anymore) (it doesn't fit with the ethos of modern times).

Let's meet the star of the show:

Not the one in the front. The one in the back.

That moai!

Notice something different about him from all the other moai everywhere? Those eyes.

At one point, it was thought that moai had no eyes.

Sort of like me in the picture with the moai with eyes in the back.

Then, fairly recently, archaeologically speaking, an archaeologist found a pair of spheres that (a) looked just like eyes and (2) were just the right size to fit into a moai's eye socket. Many other pairs of eyes, in various states of damage, have since been found. But far fewer eye pairs than there are moai. Which has led to two conflicting theories. Everyone now agrees that at least some moai had eyes. And everyone agrees that because the eyes were made of fragile coral, most of the eyes have been lost to time, predominantly due to the moai-tipping wave of destruction that struck a few hundred years ago. But some believe all had eyes at one time and some believe only some had eyes even when moai had eyes.

The original pair of eyes that were found have since been placed in the local museum. The eyes in this moai -- who not only has eyes but a topknot -- indeed this moai really truly has it all -- are recreations, not originals. And the local museum is located just a few steps from this moai is standing. Amazingly convenient!

Unfortunately, the museum is closed. It's not the same strike that closed museums in Santiago. This is a dispute between a prominent local family and the Chilean government, with the family insisting that the museum was built on land improperly confiscated from said prominent family. So said family bolted the museum shut. Several years ago. The dispute has not been resolved.

Museum: cerrado. It's becoming a theme of this trip.

In case I did not mention it before, the red volcanic stone used for the topknots is incredibly, almost weirdly, light. "Light as a feather" is not too far off the mark.

Makes sense that something placed on top of a multi-ton statue, after it has been placed erect, would need to be made of the geological equivalent of balsa wood.

A different horse, this time north of the two-eyed moai:

The two-eyed moai posing dramatically:

This is a sign I've never before seen anywhere:

Don't step on the giant heads! You would think people wouldn't need such a warning, but, then again, that is the world we live in.

One last look before we move on:

I'll do a short post on the rest of my day later.