Putting aside the grounding, my memory of Nanumea, from this distance, is the flies.

Never before or since have we been so tormented. The other memory, especially from

this distance, is how Polynesian it was. This became evident only once we had passed

through the portal into Micronesia. I remember remarking to Janet almost immediately

we stepped ashore in Betio, Tarawa, "This is different. This is very different."

Up to Betio we had been sailing in a Polynesian world, Fiji included. New Zealand

included. Our previous offshore passage too. All Polynesian. You'll be saying that Fiji is

Melanesian, which it is, but Fijians have rubbed shoulders with Tongans and Samoans

for hundreds of years. Some things rub off. The Lau Group, that enchanting string of

Islands to the east of Viti Levu, is arguably more Polynesian than Melanesian, more

Tongan than Fijian. Either way, in hind sight, we had been living in familiar territory

with familiar sounds, a familiar feel. At the time, of course, we didn't see it that way.

Each island, each new place was exotic and different.  But looking back from Micronesia,

it was all Polynesian, Nanumea as much as any. We had little of the language but we had

an understanding of how things were done. We could make assumptions and be

somewhere in the ball park.

After Nanumea it was a different world. Not least of the differences is where NZ stands

in their world. In the Polynesian world New Zealand, in tandem with Australia, is the Big

Smoke, the place to aspire to. Saying we were from New Zealand elicited a brighter eye,

a recognition and more often than not, a story of family down there or a powerful desire

to go there. Not so in Micronesia. In these islands the Big Smoke is the US.  Few aspire to

visit New Zealand, fewer still have been.  It's not on their radar. Its mention elicits no

gleam in the eye. New Zealand is just another country.

Different too is the manner in which Micronesians and Polynesians occupy their bodies.

How they move - their presence. To us, Polynesians often display a recognisable grace

and style in the movement of their, generally, very large bodies. Think Jona Lomu. 

Kailopa, a Tuvaluan, had that grace of movement in spades. Despite a crook knee and

very painful elbow, he could move.  I saw him dance on Kioa. You'd never know he was

in pain. His feet barely moved. Economy of movement.

Micronesians we've met are smaller, more compact. They have no more feel for rhythm

and song than we do.  Gone is the broad open face of the Polynesian.  But, as

everywhere, they are happy to meet, generous and gracious.