Travel has a way of surprising us—sometimes with breathtaking sights, other times with unforgettable encounters. My story from May 1996 is one such memory, a moment that stayed with me long after the plane touched down.
The Young Polynesian Girl and Her First Flight
It all started at Faa’a Airport in Tahiti. The manager of a well-known cultural village on Moorea asked me to look after a young Polynesian girl named Maimiti during her flight. I already knew her as a dancer from the village, so I happily agreed. After all, she was a striking young woman. She arrived at the airport with her entire family—large Polynesian families are quite common in this region. She was pulling along about twenty relatives, all eager to see her off. It was a heartfelt farewell, full of love and tradition.
An Innocent Girl’s First Steps into the World
As soon as her family left, Maimiti clung to me, following me everywhere. For her, this was her first time on a plane—and her first journey outside her homeland. She was supposed to join her colleagues, who were touring Europe and currently sailing around Scandinavia. She was nervous, shy, and overwhelmed—completely different from her usual confident self. The airport was bustling, and soon, we were called to board. Maimiti didn’t want to leave her family. She was scared, and I could tell she knew she’d miss them terribly during her six months in Europe.
A Heartfelt Goodbye and Cultural Farewell
In the transit area, she begged to see her family one more time. I told her it was impossible now—the plane was about to board. But she didn’t care. In tears, she dashed past security, pushing through French police, her shell necklaces bouncing as she ran. Those necklaces—kilos of shells given to her by her family.
The Tiny Airport and the Big Plane
Faa’a was a small airport—no jet bridges yet—so we had to walk across the tarmac and climb stairs into the Boeing 747-400. When she saw the enormous plane, she paused, stunned. Her eyes widened, and she struck a funny, surprised pose, shouting, “Jihiii! Big, big, big!” I quickly searched for a seat next to her. Luckily, two spots were free, and she sat there, nervously peering out the window. When she saw me, she beckoned me over eagerly.
First Impressions and Little Adventures
I asked a flight attendant if I could sit next to her for the duration of the flight. She was delighted—probably thinking I’d be a handful. I explained that this was her first flight, and her boss had asked me to look after her. The safety instructions came on, and she looked at me with curiosity when I told her the seatbelt was similar to one in a car. She was satisfied with that explanation, though in Tahiti, hardly anyone buckles up in cars only once a month when French officials visit the island.
Liftoff and Wonder
As the plane started to roll, she was mesmerized by the runway lights—bright, colorful at night. When we finally took off, her eyes widened in amazement. She looked at me with a mix of awe and shock, asking what was happening. I told her, “We’re taking off,” and she cheered, “Jihiii!”
Turbulence and New Experiences
Suddenly, turbulence hit. The plane bounced and jolted, and she clung to my arm, frightened. “Is it dangerous?” she asked, her voice trembling. I reassured her it was safe—though I was feeling the same way myself. She found comfort in my words and soon began to relax.
Later, they served food. She was surprised to see something to eat! Watching me eat with a fork, she tried to mimic me—Tahitian tradition is to eat with fingers, but she hesitated, unsure. When I told her she could eat with her fingers, she finally tried but quickly realized the meal wasn’t Polynesian and didn’t taste good to her. She offered me her portion, which I gratefully accepted.
Playful Moments and Cultural Curiosities
She started stuffing grapes into my mouth—probably amused I was eating them. Grapes in Tahiti are extremely expensive because they must be imported, with import taxes reaching up to 300%. Afterward, she asked if she could take off her sweater, preferring a pareo instead. I asked if she had something underneath. She lifted her shirt to show her white bra and her toned, tanned upper body. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Change if you want,” I said, “but quietly, others are watching.” Men seated nearby, with their wives, kept sneaking glances. Then she wanted me to take off my shirt. I hesitated, trying to explain that I couldn’t do that in a plane. She insisted—“Why not? That’s civilization!” I answered .
That comment made me reflect—why can’t we be as free, as natural, as these people? Why do we impose so many rules? She didn’t understand, or maybe she didn’t want to, and kept pushing me to reveal more.
A Dreamy Flight Across the Pacific
I unbuttoned a few buttons, and she grabbed my collar, tearing it open to see my chest and hair. “Jihiii!” she cheered. I quickly fastened it again. As dawn approached, we flew over the vast Pacific Ocean. She asked if she could dance. I said yes, and she started dancing in the aisle—no music, just her moves. It was adorable. Then she sat beside me again, curious and wide-eyed.
The California Coast and the End of the Journey
When she saw the coast of California, she asked what it was. I explained, and her eyes widened in disbelief—her islands are tiny, green, and close-knit, while the coast was vast and brown from afar. She wanted to know if the land was bigger than Tahiti. I told her, “A thousand times bigger, and even more.” That seemed to blow her mind.
She pressed her nose to the window, leaving a mark, as we flew over Los Angeles. She kept asking, “Big, big, big… aren’t there any people?”
A Bittersweet Goodbye
Finally, we landed. She asked, “Where are we now?” I said, “In Los Angeles—where else?” She excitedly shouted, “America? America! America!” That was the end of our journey together. She was flying via London to Paris, and I was heading back to Frankfurt. Luckily, I met an older French couple I knew from Tahiti, and I asked them to look after her. They liked her immediately and happily took on the task.
Tears, Promises, and a Lasting Connection
The farewell was tearful—she was happy and sad at the same time, and so was I. I’d grown fond of her during those six months. I promised to return to Tahiti in October, and she wanted me to come aboard her ship in Scandinavia. Later, she wrote to tell me she’d miss me terribly.
Six Months Later: A Changed Maimiti
When I saw her again in Tahiti, she barely recognized me. Rumor had it she’d been drinking too much in Scandinavia. She looked worn out, hollow, utterly different from the vibrant girl I’d met. I lost interest in her, at least as fast as she was poisoned by the cheap alcohol she got addicted to in Scandinavia.
Reflection: Travel, Connection, and the Human Spirit
That flight with Maimiti was more than just a trip—it was a fleeting encounter with innocence, tradition, and the universal longing to connect. It’s stories like these that remind me how travel can open our eyes to the beauty and complexity of life in different corners of the world. Sometimes, a brief moment with a stranger can leave a lasting impression, whispering to us about the shared humanity that links us all.
Discover more from Lizz and I
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.