I find that traveling is the best form of education a person can get from the world we live in, and have a wonderful time in the process. The art of travel requires a great deal of skills to develop personal character. Traveling is a passionate life. It takes a person of courage to carry that backpack, from one country to another, from one continent to another. Low-budget trips force you to blend in; to learn how to meet people and communicate effectively. Travel breaks preconceived cultural barriers, helping the individual to appreciate and understand different cultures.

Traveling broadens perspectives and teaches new ways of determining quality of life. A good traveler is flexible, capable of adapting to each new situation and adjusting the rhythm to his own style. Traveling can be the last bastion of maximum freedom.

The backpackers I met here on Moorea, a society island adjacent to Tahiti, are a mature and highly intelligent group of world travelers with a great understanding of their travel experiences. The topic of discussion and laughter includes customs, currency exchange scams, bartering, and the different treatment of innocent travelers by customs officials, depending on their nationality. Stimulating conversations covering similar and varied observations of people, cultures and their respective governments, places ranging from Nepal to New Caledonia, Fiji to Chile, to Syria and Easter Island.

As the days passed, so did different segments of travelers, European nationalities and languages ​​always changing around the campsite. Strong friendships quickly emerged, and it was always a warm and emotional scene at 1:45 PM when we said goodbye to the departing travelers on the bus that would eventually take them back to Papeete, Tahiti. Fortunately, for those left behind, a quick dip in the cool, clear lagoon would quickly help dissolve the tears.

Throughout our stay on the islands, each traveler, through our daily discussions and actions, conveyed an intimate sense of what their idea of ​​paradise would be and how they are discovering it at their fingertips here in French Polynesia.

For Diana, a Canadian woman from Toronto in her 30s is discovering her paradise on her daily walks around the island of Moorea. A person who goes to bed early, like many people on the island, gets up before dawn to begin their hike to Cooks Bay. Through these walks, Diana has found solitude, the delicate calm beauty of flowers and the warmth of people that gave her an inner peace like none she has ever known. She says she is the happiest here she has ever felt in her life.

For Miguel, our kind and cordial sixty-seven-year-old Italian gentleman, he was discovering his paradise by participating in youth company, chatting with other soul mates who also enjoyed traveling, and the vigor this brings to oneself. Miguel said he is the only person in his small northern Italian hometown of 4,000 who has traveled beyond Italy. His wife and neighbors were old in spirit and spoke of life in depressing terms. There was too much life breathing into Miguel’s bones to submit to that lifestyle for long.

For Luke, the artist, an Englishman living in Zurich, these islands helped him find inspiration for painting and photography.

For Walter and Carol, a middle-aged Canadian couple in Toronto, they are finding their own paradise by enjoying life’s pleasures through travel on a modest budget, spending more of their few dollars sharing a tent. Walter had always wanted to dance among Tahitian dancers and was delighted to get his chance.

In the holographic universe, there are no coincidences, only holographic signals. For Walter, this signal came at the “chance” meeting of an older gentleman who offered him and his wife Carol a trip back to camp. The man said he was originally from Croatia and had emigrated to French Polynesia thirty-nine years ago. The man then began to sing a Croatian song that Walter had not heard since he was a child, sung by his mother; sang along with the man. Walter said it was very difficult to hold back the tears.

For Beverley, a beautiful British blonde, her idea of ​​paradise was to complete the remaining days of her trip by finding a great beach and getting a perfect tan before heading back to London. Gradually, the gentle lure of the surroundings would make her stop and begin to recognize a deeper richness in the meaning of her serene surroundings.

For a young Norwegian, a successful salesperson for a Norwegian telecommunications company, it meant leaving the rat race and pursuing his own creative artistic endeavors. He wanted to find inspiration and confirmation from others that his dream was the right way to go.

For Dan, a young London accountant, paradise meant the freedom to roam, choose, sit back and marvel and enjoy the whole beautiful scene.

For two young French women, paradise was a place where they would find romance. For a young Frenchman from the south of France, paradise meant always being by the sea, while for others, paradise was simply a place not to be in a hurry.

And finally there was Hermes. A French Adonis, his broad shoulders, tan, muscular physique, wavy dark black hair, and a deep, resonant French voice could easily make any woman swoon and undoubtedly some women have, as I attest with envy and boredom. However, I did not see any desire on Hermes’ part to harness this power that he could easily wield over women. In the course of the few days I was able to meet Hermes; he really was a very sincere and noble gentleman, who also loved to sing. It could easily have been the French version of Elvis. It became obvious that being a gigolo to silly American women was not the level of behavior he wanted to choose. His idea of ​​paradise was sought elsewhere. Like Gauguin, Hermes decided to travel by freighter to the mystical Marquesas Islands. When we said goodbye at the camp lavatory, Hermes demonstrated with curved hands that the women of the Marquesas are the most curvy and beautiful. He has a very broad smile. Even our jovial Frenchman Adonis can find his own paradise.

For me, the Marquesas will have to remain a mystery. The paradise I was looking for I have already found.

You may wonder, is it possible that this place called French Polynesia could seem so ideal, a paradise that still exists in a world that often seems weighed down by human tragedy and suffering? Have I painted an accurate picture of this environment and its people or are there signs within this culture that describe a lost paradise?

In fact, there were hints of a paradise under a gray sky. The city of Papeete lacked any visible aesthetic charm, except along the waterfront. Rubble littered the downtown streets. Clouds of exhaust billowed out of the numerous passing trucks, cars, and motorcycles, practically suffocating me like an innocent bystander. Peugeot dealers must have deemed cleaner gas and catalytic converters unnecessary.

The ominous signs of Western influence weren’t limited to Papeete either. A wary eye could hardly ignore the plastic debris that lay strewn along Bora Bora’s beaches, or the discarded structural debris from the abandoned plans of a hotel conglomerate.

People were also not immune to unpleasant outside influences. To circumvent prudent Tahitian land ownership provisions, which restrict ownership to locals, not foreigners, French banks have insidiously encouraged rampant materialism and exorbitant debt among many of the Tahitians. Unaccustomed to this practice and financial responsibility, payments inevitably cannot be made and banks sixteen the land that was put up as collateral.

And while the storms were thankfully limited to weather unrest in French Polynesia, the storms of political unrest were seriously piling up across the Western Pacific theater. In a Tahitian hostel, we couldn’t help but laugh at the misfortune of a Swiss traveler who had stumbled across all of Oceania’s “hot spots” on his way here, including New Guinea, New Caledonia, and Fiji. “Man, don’t bring bad luck to our paradise here!” we exclaim.

However, this rising tide of negative influences can still be stopped. People can be educated and encouraged to have a greater awareness of the destructive effects that modern debris has on the environment. Efforts could easily be made for a community cleanup effort and the establishment of recycling facilities.

The people of French Polynesia are friendly, but they are far from oblivious, and easily fooled. In 1996, Tahitians voiced their strong disagreement against French nuclear tests and the practice was stopped. No, I believe that the human tools necessary to resist looters and profiteers are present among the fine people of Tahiti. Paradise lost can quickly turn into paradise regained. It just takes effort.