I Dream of Kiribati
Mauri, mauri!! Kiribati was a country I had dreamed of visiting for several years. I can’t even fully remember what first pulled me in or why it hit me so strongly. Maybe it was Tabon Te Keekee’s overwater buias, or maybe it was the relics of war still scattered across Betio Island. All I know is that Kiribati grew from, “What the hell is Ki-ree-bah-tee?” into becoming one of my top dream countries. The curiosity kept growing week by week until I just had to see these islands for myself.
I already knew by then that Kiribati was a country with many problems, especially on the capital atoll of Tarawa, and I knew this was one of those places where personal perspective mattered more than outside assumptions. It was only a matter of time before I found myself on a one-way flight from Tuvalu to the land of fair-skinned people, finally about to see what this country actually felt like with my own eyes.
North Tarawa
Flying into Tarawa, one of the first things that hits you is how long and stretched out the atoll feels. Opposite the tiny compact feeling of Funafuti in Tuvalu, Tarawa felt wider, longer, and more divided in personality. That split between North and South Tarawa is one of the things that makes the place so interesting.
I began my time in Kiribati with a four-night stay at Tabon Te Keekee, a place I had wanted to stay at for a long time. Yes, I learned later that there were other places across the Gilberts where I could have stayed for much less than the $120 a night I paid there, but I still found it worth it. It gave me the entry into Kiribati I had imagined for years.
What I loved about that part of Tarawa was how naturally things slowed down. Right next to the resort was a small school where I got to watch culture day rehearsals of dancing and singing. Even just walking through Abatao and continuing past Crooked Bridge toward Broken Bridge gave me some of my favorite simple moments on the atoll. One of the best swims I had in Tarawa happened there, and I was even lucky enough to have two little kids join me all the way to the end. That kind of thing says a lot about Kiribati. Even a walk can turn into something personal.
South Tarawa
After returning from Nauru, I was ready for the more overwhelming experience of South Tarawa. I found a cheap Airbnb in Teaoraereke, paying 147 for six nights in an oceanfront home beside a family. Teaoraereke was far from the airport, but close enough to move around the parts of South Tarawa I most wanted to experience — Bairiki, Betio, and the long walk over Nippon Causeway connecting those spaces.
What stood out to me immediately was that even in a crowded place, there was still so much personality and life everywhere. Kids would yell out I-Matang, ask for selfies, or come over just to give me a fist bump. Even in Betio, walking among the remains of war, there was always some moment of human warmth nearby. One local even handed me a bullet from the war, which sadly got confiscated later at the airport. Betio was full of discoveries like that, war remnants not curated neatly for tourism, but simply scattered around the island like fragments still living in the present. Full dive into the Battle of Tarawa here.
And even on the busy side of Tarawa, culture was still right there. You could still see traditional buias and kiakias, families living, resting, eating, or simply sitting together in them. Motorbikes buzzed up and down the road. People played games, watched videos on phones, and lived life very much in the open. That was one of the biggest things Kiribati gave me: the reminder that even in crowded, difficult places, culture does not disappear so easily.
Butaritari Atoll
Then came Butaritari, and that expanded Kiribati for me in a major way.
I spent a full week there and was the only foreigner on the island. That alone already made the experience feel special, but what made it unforgettable was the timing. I happened to be there for the 75th anniversary of the Battle of Makin, when the entire island came together to put on an incredible event giving thanks to America for helping save their ancestors.
That kind of moment is hard to script and impossible to fake. It made Butaritari feel deeper than just another outer island stop. The island also welcomed me into the maneaba for cultural performances, and I’ve got to say, Kiribati dancing became one of the most beautiful forms of cultural dance I had seen anywhere in the Pacific. The movement, the rhythm, the expression — it all felt so distinct and so rooted in place. Butaritari showed me a richer, calmer, more outer-island side of Kiribati that made me appreciate the country even more.
Harsh Realities on Tarawa
The Harsh Realities of Tarawa
At the same time, Kiribati is not a place you can speak about honestly without also talking about its harder realities.
South Tarawa in particular carries a lot of visible strain. Overpopulation is real. Waste disposal is limited. In many places, there is simply no clear system for rubbish, and that reality shows. Betio was one of the most densely littered places I saw anywhere in the Pacific, and the environmental pressure on South Tarawa was impossible to ignore.
The Harsh Realities of Tarawa
At the same time, Kiribati is not a place you can speak about honestly without also talking about its harder realities.
South Tarawa in particular carries a lot of visible strain. Overpopulation is real. Waste disposal is limited. In many places, there is simply no clear system for rubbish, and that reality shows. Betio was one of the most densely littered places I saw anywhere in the Pacific, and the environmental pressure on South Tarawa was impossible to ignore.
There were other difficult parts too. The food could be delicious, but I still got stomach sick more than once. The dogs could be genuinely hostile, especially in packs, and I know that personally because I was attacked by them in South Tarawa. And of course, there is the long shadow of climate change, with people living on land that is already vulnerable in ways the outside world often talks about too casually.
All of that matters. It should not be glossed over. Kiribati is beautiful, but it is not easy.
Why Kiribati Meant So Much to Me
And yet, even with all of that, Kiribati became one of my favorite places.
That is the part I always come back to.
Beyond the challenges, Kiribati felt like an adventurer’s paradise to me because it offered something so few places do anymore: a country with almost no tourism, full of smiling faces, living culture, open curiosity, and the sense that you were still stepping into a place not yet flattened into convenience for outsiders.
The kids yelling “Hi!”, “Mauri!”, or “Good, good, good!” The selfies. The friendliness. The feeling of being the only outsider and still somehow constantly welcomed into the rhythm of daily life. The dances. The buias. The roads. The war remnants. The laughter. All of it combined into a country that felt very real, very open, and very much alive.
Kiribati had hard truths, yes. But it also had heart.
And for me, that heart is exactly why it remains one of the most meaningful countries I have ever traveled to.
If you want a more memory-driven companion to this page, check out my 25 observations about Kiribati.
Also check out my FULL Kiribati Experience on Youtube
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This work is part of One Ocean, One People, a registered 501(c)(3) nonprofit dedicated to documenting and sharing Pacific Island cultures and stories. All support helps fund fieldwork, travel to remote islands, and the production of educational storytelling across Oceania.
