A New Zealander invited to visit the Banabans of Rabi Island, in Fiji, takes a flight to Nadi (three hours), a bus to Suva (some five hours), an overnight boat to Savusavu (about 12 hours), and a hired car to Karoko (another four hours). You then wait for an indeterminate period of time for a fishing boat to turn up (requested the day before by telephone from Suva) in order to make the crossing to Rabi (a last 45 minutes or so), as there is no scheduled transport to the island. You wade through the tide at both ends of this final leg—and wonder why 4000 people have to live on an island without a wharf.

You spend just a few days with the Banaban people and feel refreshed by the clear-eyed, friendly faces of all ages that smile at you and greet you as you pass. There is no cash economy here other than a limited number of jobs paid for by the Rabi Council of Leaders, but a subsistence economy keeps people industrious and fed, and tolerates no waste. After fish and dalo for breakfast, it will be fish and maybe rice for lunch, and fish and breadfruit for dinner. But different—and delicious—fish, prepared a different way on each occasion, and the freshest you’ll ever eat. There may be pawpaw or mango to follow, and you soon learn not to spill the milk as you drink from an exquisitely refreshing moimoto, or drinking coconut.

Don’t these people seem happy and healthy? And wouldn’t anyone be pleased to be so removed from the hectic pace of the modern world? Well, yes and no.

There is no grid electricity on Rabi. The island’s four villages—Tabwewa, Uma, Tabiang and Buakonikai—run diesel generators for only a few hours of an evening. Maybe someone will play a video or DVD in their house, and visitors will gather; maybe they’ll light a hurricane lantern. But fuel is expensive, so there’s incentive for high school children to rise at 4.30 a.m. to get the full benefit of the daylight hours. They’re ready to leave on the school bus at 6 a.m.—if it’s running. If it’s out of service, which isn’t unusual, the walk takes two hours, which means energy is expended and precious study time lost. The sum total of public transport here is two buses brightly painted with the logos of Stagecoach New Zealand, Reef Shipping and various Kiwi communities and wishing “Mauri Mauri—Greetings from New Zealand”.

So who are the Banabans? How long have they lived on Rabi Island? How come education is so highly valued here? Why are those two buses painted like that? And what might these questions have to do with New Zealand? Even the short answers are long ones.