Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of brown run by. A child of five or six raced past me, his skin melted and pooled like layers of wax. It looked as if it would slide off his body, leaving nothing but unprotected muscles and bones. He raced and raced, as if time and space would only allow him a few moments to expend all of his energy before death. And then he laughed, a series of high-pitched giggles, joy seemingly coming from nowhere."The other day, we sat on the beach and ate fresh fish. We were offered the heart and liver, which left our lips smeared with blood." – Atafu, February 20, 2007
Residents of Atafu fish together and share food communally in a traditional system called inati. They offered me these two fish on one of my first days on the island.
To cook coconut crabs, islanders make a pile of coconut fronds, drop the coconut crabs on top, and light everything on fire. In mere minutes, the crabs are cooked, and then kids drag their hot bodies from the ashes and place them on plates that they weave from coconut fronds.
