Nauru

June 29–30, 2014

Allow me to present Nauru. The smallest island state in the world and the only republic without a capital (they couldn’t find a village to match the title).

The best possible map of the island is presented right at the airport. A phosphate pit in the center and some inhabitants along the coast.

The population is 10 000. The island is infrequently serviced by Our Airlines.

A license plate.

A “Caution, Children” sign.

A police station.

A post office.

The island has exactly one ATM, and it’s out of order. I stayed at the best hotel (two stars), where nothing worked, including the Internet. In the lobby, I was approached by the two pilots of the plane that had brought me there, who asked whether I had hot water in my room. No, guys, I don’t have hot water in my room either.

The entire island is surrounded by impenetrable rocky outcrops.

The only place where boats can dock had to be cut through the rocks.

The settlements are nothing to look at.

As are the buildings.

One doesn’t come here for beauty.

One comes here for phosphates. Birds shat on Nauru for ten thousand years to create an incredibly rich phosphate deposit. It took Nauru just a couple of decades to turn the deposits to shit.

There were a lot of phosphates here. The entire island consists of volcanic formations with phosphates on them. This is what a spent crater looks like (there’s a building roof in the background for scale).

In the second half of the 20th century, the islanders decided to gain independence (to pay less taxes) and sold the extraction rights to Australia, thinking the influx of money would be endless. Over the course of twenty or so years, capitalists excavated practically everything there was to be excavated, leaving the Naurians with a bunch of craters and jack shit.

I was convinced that there was nothing left of Nauru. But I was completely wrong. The island is still being actively excavated. Every day, 365 days a year.

The loading terminals even broke down due to intense use. The warning sign attests to this.

What can you do? Build new terminals!

Maybe in fifty years there really won’t be anything left here. But for now, a little bit still remains.

Work is in full swing.

The machinery is running.

And if it has even a minor breakdown, it’s just tossed out. There’s still enough money for now.

Then again, let’s not be cruel. UN membership also brings in money. That’s why Nauru recognized the statehood of Abkhasia and South Ossetia (price list available upon request).

The locals’ favorite pastime is eating small raw fish while sitting in the water fully clothed.

I got to talking with a taxi driver, who turned out to be an immigrant from Fiji. Twenty years ago, he fell in love with a Naurian woman and moved here. For the first fifteen years or so, he couldn’t understand this tradition, but now you can’t keep him away from sitting in the sea and eating raw fish.