Easter Island: Out of two and a half years of lockdown

Hardly any place in the world was as isolated during the pandemic as Chile’s Easter Island. Residents had to switch from tourism to another livelihood. Now the island is open to visitors again – and not everyone is hoping for the rush.

It is one of the first flights to Chile’s Easter Island, which the locals call Rapa Nui, since the beginning of the corona pandemic: the island was isolated from the mainland for two and a half years. Only health emergencies were allowed to be flown out. Now the island dares to restart for tourists – and seems caught between hope and fear.

“Before the pandemic, we worked like crazy, there were 14 flights a week and countless cruise ships,” says tourist guide Terangi Pakarati. “Then the electricity suddenly stopped.” Terangi strolls across the vast meadow on the east shore of the island, where the 15 world-renowned towering Moai statues are enthroned near the surf. They symbolize former leaders of the island people. The faces made of volcanic rock used to be admired by visitors from all over the world, who used selfie sticks to take pictures of themselves in front of them. Now Pakarati is mostly alone here, waiting for guests.

Rapa Nui looks as natural and wildly romantic as it was probably only before the mass tourism era. This had given the island tremendous growth: 80 percent of the economy depended on tourism. Now business is slow to pick up. Instead of more than 7000 tourists, there are now only around 100 visitors on Rapa Nui at the same time.

Pandemic concept successful

In the past two and a half years, the island has been one of the most heavily and longest isolated places in the world. As soon as the first Covid cases appeared on the Chilean mainland in March 2020, the borders were closed. Because the only clinic on the island has only a few ventilators and no intensive care unit. Severe corona courses should have been flown to the Chilean mainland – with a linear distance of around 3500 kilometers and a flight time of five hours, the decision was therefore made to go for almost complete isolation.

As far as the fight against the pandemic is concerned, the path taken was successful: according to the Ministry of Health, only 53 cases have been recorded since the beginning of the pandemic. The concern about the virus was probably also a consequence of past experience. For centuries, Rapa Nui suffered from imported diseases. In the 18th century, syphilis and smallpox ravaged the island. So much so that the population had temporarily shrunk to 111 inhabitants.

Locals have become self-sufficient

But the long isolation has left economic scars. The absence of visitors was a severe financial blow for many residents. “Probably only 30 percent of the hotels and restaurants survived,” says hotel owner Edgar Herever. He himself had to close his hotel “Wai Moana” and still pay the high additional costs for electricity, gas and water. Because there was no work, many employees left the island. Since 2020, around 2,000 of the almost 8,000 residents have left the country.

A year ago, Herever no longer wanted to mope and opened his restaurant to the local population. From then on, instead of tourists, the locals met at dance competitions and local cuisine, also because Edgar lowered the prices. “We developed a new sense of community during the pandemic and grew together as residents,” he says.

Diana Edmonds-Tucki also feels a new sense of community. When the island closed down, she and her husband began planting more vegetables and fruit trees and doubled the number of their beehives. They also built a chicken coop. “We could no longer afford the expensive groceries from the mainland – so we became self-sufficient,” she says.

Since then, the couple has not only produced yoghurt and eggs themselves – they are also energetically self-sufficient: A home plant for biogas is located behind their house. Gas for the kitchen and fertilizer for their fields are produced from the organic waste. Ten solar panels also provide hot water and electricity. They are not alone, she says: “All the islanders have become gardeners and have returned to organic farming.”

Away from mass tourism?

Before the pandemic, almost all goods and food were imported from the mainland, but the island had to be largely self-sufficient due to the isolation. The local government distributed seeds for growing vegetables, and bartering began: fishermen received meat or eggs in exchange for crabs or crabs.

Above all, the tourism industry around its association president Herever pushed for an opening. In the meantime, visitors to the airfield are once again being greeted with wreaths of flowers and hugs. But despite all the joy, there are also warning voices. Before the pandemic, two planes arrived per day and a total of almost 160,000 tourists per year. A veritable tidal wave for the small island, as many people say. Not only Guide Pakarati hopes for more sustainable tourism with lower visitor numbers.

For the few tourists on the dream beach Anakena their stay is a unique experience. Miguel Rivera, who comes from Chile’s capital Santiago, enthuses: “We are completely alone here, where otherwise hundreds of people cavort.”