As the boat approached Mana Island, the waters were colored so many blues, we saw that this was really a much more desolate island–we only saw a few people on the beach. Once we got off the boat, we headed for the backpacker’s hostel, and decided where we should stay. After walking around quite a bit, we ended up in the first place we had found, and decided it would be the best. After we got our stuff settled, we headed for the beach where we met some other people. Two deaf, one from AUS and one from NZ, some US girls and guys, and some UK guys. Everyone just was hanging around and carving coconut shells, swimming, sunbathing, and completely living the life of a shipwrecked island. The island is inhabited by two villages, one of which our hostel was in. That evening, the local school gave a singing performance after our dinner. It was a great cultural experience because the locals all would introduce themselves, and learn our names, and ask where we’re from and such. It was really cool. After the performance, I dozed in a hammock right next to the ocean being swayed by the wind.