ISLAND LIFE
TAHITI TREATS Spa treatments, encounters with sharks, friendly locals and a crash course on pearls help one writer tap into the power of mana, the spirit of French Polynesia. BY CHRIS RYALL
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ai, my Tahitian massage therapist, slides her oilcovered hands over my body, kneading and releasing the web of knots I have from head to toe. As I lay motionless on the massage table in the middle of a mangrove forest, I hear the faint, distant sound of waves rolling into shore. This idyllic setting allows me to fully embrace the concept and power of mana, the life force and spirit of Tahiti. Mention Tahiti to anyone and they immediately think of honeymooners, luxurious over-the-water bungalows, crystal clear azure waters, swaying coconut palms and white sand beaches. But it is so much more than that. Each of the 118 islands that make up French Polynesia has its own distinct character, landscape and charm. The island of Tahiti is the largest island with almost 200,000 residents. Peering out the airplane window on the final leg of my journey from Los Angeles to Papeete, the island’s verdant valleys and lush rainforest trigger an unexpected and spiritual response from me. It’s my first experience with the mana I will understand more about during my stay.
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I feel it again with a taste of poisson cru, the Tahitian national dish. Featured on almost every menu whether it’s an upscale restaurant or a food truck, it usually consists of raw tuna (marinated in lime juice) swimming in coconut milk with cucumber, tomato, bell peppers and onion. Surprisingly sweet and refreshing, my taste buds approve heartily. Heimata Hall, owner of Tahiti Food Tours, is my dinner companion on the island of Moorea. He followed his foodie passion and started the company a few years ago. Tahitian cuisine, he says, is a blend of Tahitian, Chinese and French influences. In French Polynesia, seafood such as mahi mahi and tuna are staples along with the breadfruit plant (uru), coconut, bananas, pineapples, lime and root vegetables like taro. Hall, like myself, has a fondness for street food and roulettes (food trucks) and prefers taking visitors to these spots rather than high-end restaurants. I savour the robust flavours of suckling pig, chicken, local fruit pastilles and vegetables while observing a cooking demo of a traditional ahima’a (a Polynesian oven) at Chez Tara on the island of Huahine. Volcanic stones placed at the bottom of a large hole and a layer of wood and coconut husks over the food
