On the Pacific island of remote Rapa Nui – is known for many as the Easter island – iconic moi sculptures stood silently against the wind, staring at a changing landscape. Once to honor the ancestors and carve with spiritual meaning, these monumental stone figures are now facing a slow, but tireless threat: the forces of nature and time.
Carved centuries ago, there was never to face the extreme situations brought to the moi from the soft, porous volcanic tuffs, Moi brought up to the 21st century. Sea levels, wildfire, acute storms and temperature changes are intensifying their decay. Some idols have torn or topped. Other people are darkened by the soot of wildfire, their surfaces are carved out of wind and rain. Even sea spray, rich in salt, is operating the stone quietly.
The damage is not always dramatic – but it is stable. The animals rub against them, the rainwater moves in small fractures, and the crystal of salt spreads inside the stone, slowly separating the sculptures from within. Moi, once the parents of the island, now need to protect themselves.
Local protectionists and archaeologists still do not stand. The drones now scan the sculptures to detect the early signs of erosion. Protective coatings are being tested to deteriorate slow. And in a controversial step, some experts are also considering transferring weak moi to safe ground – or allowing nature to take their course.
A local historian says, “There is a deep debate here.” “Are we protected the past, or are interfering with its natural return on Earth?”
For many Rapa Nui residents, Moi are much more than historical artifacts – they are the soul of the island, a living relationship and simplicity and flexibility for the ancestors.
