January is a nice time to travel to the South Pacific nation of Nauru, the tiny island state famous for beach barbecues and refugee resettlement plans. You will be applauded for knowing that the name Nauru comes from the Nauruan word Anáoero, which means “I go to the beach.”
Last week, all 9,000 Naurunians welcomed some curious visitors to their beach. The group was a trade mission (of sorts) from Cambodia. These government adventurers were so keen to be the first to place an “I’ve been to Nauru pin” on the map at the Ministry of Trade that they traveled thousands of miles to the middle of nowhere to accomplish it.
If you want to stay ahead of the average human’s (or government official’s) Nauru knowledge, you’ll definitely want to be aware of Nauru’s status as the smallest state in the South Pacific and second smallest state by population in the world behind Vatican City. Rockefeller Without Borders tried contacting the Pope to see if he had any “messages of refugee settlement hope” to take to the Cambodian contingent on Nauru, but the best we could get was a recording that said “Press 3 for messages of hope,” only to get another recorded message that said: “If you’re calling about oil prices and your collapsing currency we suggest you pray. That’s your only hope.”
Hitting zero to hopefully get a human voice of hope, we landed on a gravelly sounding someone who, upon hearing the name Nauru shouted: “They’re a (bleep) tent city. We’re a (bleep) walled city!” and hung up.
Yes, okay, Nauru does have a thousand tent-sheltered refugees who the Cambodian government says are welcome to relocate from camp to Kingdom (just as soon as Australia’s cheque clears), but for the obstinate Vatican operator to call Nauru a (bleep) tent city does seem a bit harsh.
Nauru is a fully functioning country – which in today’s terms means crime, booze and the six o’clock news. The Vatican City’s refusal to discuss its little brother forced us, as a responsible NGO, to have a good look around the internet for some important facts to share with all of you who, like us, are anxiously awaiting news on just how the refugee negotiations and Tuesday night beach pub quizzes are going (bonus points for knowing that Nauru had presidents named Baron, Ludwig and Hammer).
Nauru sent two athletes, including one for judo, to the London Olympics. The country was also a former haven for money laundering – until the Australian government convinced them that havens for boat people are far less stressful (money launderers demand 5-star accommodation, tents will save money). Sensing some reluctance to give up its lucrative outlaw ways, the sympathetic Aussie negotiators said they’d help smooth the transition into this new, more lawful identity by designing a symbol that would designate Nauru’s status as the tiny-island-state-formerly-known-as-a-money-laundering-nation.
Several weeks ago, the Interior Ministry declared that this was going to be a trip to “present the reality of Cambodia” to these refugees, “not the advertising.” One reality we hope the Ministry presents – indeed advertises and promotes with passion and pride – is that taekwondo gold medallist and national icon Sorn Seavmey could easily put a serious ass-kicking on Nauru’s best.
Nauru uses the Australian dollar as its currency. Rockefeller Without Borders would like to commend the Cambodian government for strategically holding off its visit until the Aussie buck hit some serious American greenback lows. That savings will hopefully be put toward souvenirs, including a little gift for the Germans (we suggest a snowglobe, everyone loves those), who ruled Nauru for more than three decades in the late 1800s. Ask any German about Nauru’s former name, Pleasant Island, and he will tell you that the name was justified given that it was the only place on the equator to get a decent pint.
Speaking, if we may, for all Cambodians, Rockefeller Without Borders would like to tell the soon-to-be-arriving Nauru beachcombers that we have already removed “refugee,” “detention centre,” “tent city” and “person who does not want to be here” from our official government vocabulary. We want you to immediately feel comfortable in the Kingdom. Oh, and we were just kidding about Sorn Seavmey kicking your ass. Sort of.