Sustainable in FRENCH POLYNESIA | An Honest Review of My Travel

How can I reduce plastic waste related to periods?

I took a long time to make this plastic-free swap due to the embarrassment factor if it goes wrong. When I finally did, I went for the menstrual cup. Because I wanted to be prepared for leaks, I also got some menstrual underwear from Modibodi at the same time. (As the menstrual underwear was not the primary product, I went for the light-moderate flow version.) I tried this combination for several months until I felt confident enough to travel with them.

This is a plastic-free swap which I foolishly left for too long. If I were to do my zero waste journey again, this would be among my first swaps. Once you get over your squeamishness and realise that your nether regions are not as delicate as you feared, it’s just so convenient. The amount of money you save is a no-brainer. Sanitary pads are bulky, and you either have to buy every month or reserve considerable shelf space to stock it. I don’t miss it at all.

Note: At the time, washable menstrual pads were already available. I chose against it because I knew that whichever zero waste option I chose, it would have to work for travel as well. While I can imagine putting the menstrual underwear into the laundry and hanging them up at a hostel, I could not see myself hanging up the washable pads!

What were the additional benefits of using a menstrual cup?

Aside from the general benefits of moving away from disposable menstrual pads, a big benefit of the menstrual cup for me is that I can now swim even on my heavy flow days.

It’s also more discreet, which turned out to be handy on a catamaran. With a menstrual cup, you only need to empty the contents every so often, and rinse before re-insertion. (Actually, in a pinch, I’ve found it’s really just fine to re-insert without rinsing.) Sanitary pads would have been very noticeable since garbage had to be taken back to shore for disposal, and we didn’t generate a lot of other waste.

There’s also one side benefit that could be important to some women. The menstrual cup can help women with vaginismus re-train her cervical muscles.

What were the additional benefits of using period underwear?

The primary travel benefit of using menstrual underwear vs washable pads is that it is discreet. You can’t really tell the difference between them and regular underwear in a casual glance; they just look like larger sized underwear. In a pinch, you can also wear it when you’re not on your period. So, this means you can actually pack it as underwear, rather than having to pack underwear and washable pads.

Are there any downsides to switching to a menstrual cup?

The upfront investment is considerably higher than a pack of sanitary pads. That said, over time, this is among the most financially sensible zero waste swaps. From a travel standpoint, it may not be a good option if you’re travelling to places without clean water in bathrooms when you’re in transit. Also, I guess you can’t rescue another woman traveller if she has her period unexpectedly.

Women from certain cultural backgrounds may find this option unpalatable, because of the taboo on inserting things into your vagina. The truth is, mine is one such cultural background. But the cup really doesn’t go very far in at all, and if you’re travelling with others, it’s a lot more discreet. So that modesty bonus is enough for me to overrule my limiting beliefs.

Are there any downsides to switching to period underwear?

You want good quality for menstrual underwear, because those would be the ones with low leakage potential. But good quality costs money. I still think it’s a good swap to make, and the earlier the better so that you start saving money sooner (that you would have spent on disposable pads). They also take a little bit longer to dry than normal underwear because of the multi-layer absorbent portion. But it’s about the same amount of drying time as, say, jeans. So it’s not that big a deal.

Would I keep using a menstrual cup for travel?

It’s not only my default, I carry one in my handbag instead of the ’emergency sanitary pad’.

Would I keep using period underwear for travel?

If there’s a chance I might have my period while travelling, I’d pack this on top of the menstrual cup.

3. Supporting sustainable businesses and communities in French Polynesia

Tourism is an important industry for French Polynesia. As a rule of thumb, when a destination is heavily marketed for tourism, I’d put in some extra effort to search for local businesses so that tourism leakage can be reduced.

For more on tourism leakage and why it’s an important sustainable travel issue, I recommend Curiosity Saves Travel’s excellent article. To give an indication, the UN estimates that for most all-inclusive package tours, for every $100 spent only $20 stays in the host country’s economy. In other words, depending on how you spend as a tourist, the tourism either really helps the local economy, or further exploits the host country.

How easy was it to spend locally in French Polynesia?

I generally try to favour local businesses when I travel. This is not difficult to do in French Polynesia. Local businesses are the norm. Accommodation, food, souvenirs – if you don’t come on a package resort stay, chances are you’ll be spending local for these. There’s even locally canned juice, made from Polynesian-grown fruit (the brand is Rotui, if you’re wondering).

However, there was one thing that I came away wishing for. There doesn’t seem to be any dive centres in Rangiroa run by indigenous Polynesians. This used to be the case in Southeast Asia, but it’s normal these days to have dive centres run by Southeast Asians. I bring it up because the vibe is different between dive shops run by natives and those run by non-native westerners. The portion of my Rangiroa trip when I was diving was the only part when my local immersion was disrupted. I hope one day Rangiroa would have Polynesian dive masters taking divers out on the reef.

1. Logistics, fuel & energy in Tahiti & Rangiroa

• Vini is the only mobile data service provider in French Polynesia. The best data speed you can get is 3G; but I guess it’s reasonable considering you’re in the middle of the ocean. It’s also more expensive than you would be used to, if you’re coming in from continental countries. In addition, it’s not very reliable. For example, when I was in Tahiti it was down on the third day. Make sure you download to your phone things you will need beforehand, such as local maps and translation dictionaries.
• Tahiti seems to be mostly powered by fossil energy, judging from the fuel storage near Pape’ete port. There are gas stations all over the island. When I was there, diesel was 142 XPF per litre, which is about $1.40 per litre at today’s rates. So, budget accordingly if you plan to rent a car. There’s some rooftop solar in Tahiti, but not much.
• There is also a local bus service in Tahiti. It is challenging to work out, but if you’re fluent in French it’s doable. This is significantly cheaper, and can take you all around the island.
• Life in Rangiroa is fairly low energy, and seems mainly solar powered. There were solar panels on the bank and the school.

2. Plastic pollution

Unsurprisingly for a tourism-reliant destination, French Polynesia has a modern plastic habit. The silver lining is that the people are tidy, and keep everything clean from plastic trash. There’s some recycling, but it’s not widespread.

I tried to avoid plastic as much as I could, especially in Rangiroa. Coming from Southeast Asia, I couldn’t bear the thought of these islands becoming inundated by plastic. So much so that I left a RM5 note as a souvenir to my host instead of a RM1 note, because the latter depicted a kite on the back, and I didn’t want to be responsible for plastic kites coming into vogue… (Maybe that was paranoid, but you see, our islands became polluted with plastic within one generation, so I am paranoid.)

3. Water resources

The water situation is different between Tahiti and Rangiroa. Tahiti is a hilly island, enough to generate rain. As a result, water never felt like a scarce resource on Tahiti, albeit there was mention of groundwater preservation efforts in my hotel in Pape’ete.

On the other hand, Rangiroa is extremely flat, and relies on seasonal ocean rain. Water is visibly stored in overhead tanks. My host was curious when she saw me filtering water from the tap for drinking with my portable travel water filter. Rangiroa was the place where I realised I should pack something else when I travel to potentially water-scarce locations: the filter’s backwash syringe. I wouldn’t need to clean the filter until I returned home, which is why I save space in my luggage and leave it behind. But, if I had packed it with me, I could have left the whole set behind as a gift.

1. Caged fish in Pape’ete marina

It was Jon who took me to see the caged fish in the marina. I had told him how much I was into marine life, so he took me walking by the marina in Pape’ete where he had seen the fish. The ‘cages’ consisted of nets fastened on rectangular frames, with fish inside them. Some coral had started growing on a couple of them, and it seemed like the intention was to make a kind of coral aquarium that had free-flowing water.

At first, I was intrigued by all the fish. But, as we stood watching the fish swim back and forth, and back and forth, I realised they were obviously stressed. The fish were constantly at the surface, trying all of the edges for an escape opening. Several were swimming lopsided, as if trying to see whether it could escape through the air. I don’t know when they turn off the lights, and I wonder whether the fish had enough sleep.

2. Polynesian version of Marine Protected Areas

Like any English-speaking person, I am familiar with the word ‘taboo’. I also knew that it originated from the Polynesian word tapu. But it was only when I travelled in Polynesia that I saw how it’s used in the context of conservation. While on Easter Island I saw it on land, on Tahiti I saw it used to demarcate marine protected areas. I also learned the concept of the rahui, which I think means the prohibition of acts that violate the tapu.

My people used to have an equivalent version. However, it was always associated with spirit guardians, so we have gradually left it behind as superstition. Maybe we should have kept the cultural concept of keramat, without necessarily carrying over the animism. Perhaps we could have kept a lot more of our nature by now.

3. Wildlife interaction & tourism

One of the cardinal sins of sustainable tourism is wildlife handling. There are almost no good reasons why a tourist should touch wildlife, especially when it is staged. Even in a natural encounter, ideally you should let the animal initiate contact. That said, the line gets blurred when you’re hosted by local people, for whom these animals are kinda like their stray dogs and cats.

For landlubbers, sharks are an exotic animal. But it is not necessarily so for islanders, as I discovered in Rangiroa. My host told me that when they were little, they would pick up juvenile reef sharks and pretend to spar with them. (This story reminded me of my dad and his childhood friends, who used to do cruel things like tie strings on the legs of dragonflies so that they could see them fly around in circles. He has since repented.)

This culture is why island hosts would often offer to capture fish to show guests. Indeed, my host’s husband strung out a net to catch a Picasso triggerfish at the motu when I was joined by a Swiss couple, which upset my host since they were supposed to leave the fish alone at the motu so that they would stay docile for the tourists to see.

Fortunately, the Swiss tourists were somewhat aware that what’s ok for locals to do, is not always ok when multiplied by all the tourists. In fact, Bjorne even disapproved that the Tuamotus export fish to Tahiti. He felt that Tahiti should not have depleted its own fish stocks, rather than rely on imports from other archipelagoes. But I guess, at least it’s alternative income for this region.

4. Fish feeding in Polynesia

That brings me to another topic with a similar context. When I say that the fish are like stray cats in Polynesia, I really mean it. It’s common here for people to toss food scraps into the water. Technically it’s fish feeding, but it’s not done on purpose. My host said only the surface feeders come to the shallows to eat the scraps anyway, and those are not grazers on the coral reef. As far as I could tell, it’s true. And as far as I could tell, the coral reef in Rangiroa isn’t overgrown by algae, so it looks to be quite tolerable by the ecosystem.

But again, something that’s sustainable within local practices, may stop being sustainable when done as a tourism activity. Fish feeding is one of them.

5. Honourable mention: The iNaturalist app

It was after my trip to French Polynesia that I discovered the iNaturalist app. I saw animals in Tahiti and while snorkelling, that I couldn’t quite identify. Then I saw this app mentioned on social media and tried it out. Although I do have a bit of a biology background, you don’t need much of it to use the app, as long as the photo is good.

Carbon offsetting information to Tahiti

A return flight between Kuala Lumpur and Fa’a’a via Auckland produces carbon emissions of approximately 10,280 lbs CO2e. It costs about $51 to offset this.