I first learned of Kiribati through Google Earth images and panoramas back in 2015. Like most people, I had never even heard of Kiribati, and I was pronouncing it the way an outsider would (Ki-ree-bah-tee). But what drew me in was the simplicity of life that seemed to exist across those small, low-lying atolls. What really sold my innocent traveler heart was the image of Tabon te Keekee’s overwater buia in North Tarawa. Fast forward three years later, halfway across the world and already deep into my first true Pacific Islands voyage, and I arrived in what would become one of my favorite places I have ever experienced.
My Experience Traveling Through Kiribati
I arrived in Tarawa on a rare and unique route that existed in 2018 from Funafuti to Tarawa. With no real plans beyond my booking at Tabon te Keekee, I hitched a ride and found myself settling into what had already felt like a dream long before I got there.
The simplicity I had imagined turned out to be real. On my first morning, I looked out to see two men net fishing in the lagoon, heard the sounds of children at school next door, and felt the kind of quiet, peaceful energy that immediately slows you down. Staying in North Tarawa gave me that first taste of Kiribati through stillness, but that was only the beginning. The journey would later take me from the quiet calm of North Tarawa to the busier pulse of South Tarawa, and all the way down to Betio, home to the Battle of Tarawa and a much more layered side of the capital.
But like Tuvalu, the deeper Kiribati experience really begins once you move beyond the main center and into the outer islands. I flew with Air Kiribati, which by local standards is quite expensive, though there is also a boat option if time is less of a concern. I ended up making my way to Butaritari, where the pace of life felt laid back but the personalities were open and warm. It also happens to be one of the greener islands in the Gilberts, with higher rainfall and more abundance on the land.
From there I went to Abaiang, where time seemed to move at its own pace. The people there were more reserved at first, but still kind and open once you met them where they were. Those experiences helped me understand that Kiribati is not one thing. Even within the same island group, each place carries its own energy.
What Most People Get Wrong About Kiribati
One thing to understand about Kiribati is that this is not the kind of place you visit for polished island luxury. I would not even call it a backpacker destination in the usual sense. And while development has come a long way compared to what people might expect, anyone going to Kiribati needs to be willing to lean into a more open-ended kind of travel.
There is infrastructure, but it is far from perfect. That is not necessarily a weakness. In many ways, it is part of what makes the experience so real. Kiribati has a way of forcing you out of your comfort zone and into the actual rhythm of the islands. You cannot stay detached from the place and still expect to understand it. The more you let go of expectation, the more the islands begin to reveal themselves.
Daily Life in Kiribati
Like elsewhere in the Pacific, daily life in Kiribati is deeply rooted in family and community. Hospitality is strong, especially for visitors who arrive with humility and a genuine interest in learning rather than simply passing through. There is a warmth in the way people receive you, but there is also a pace that asks you to slow yourself down.
Kiribati moves slowly, and I mean that in the best and most honest way. Slower than places like Samoa or Fiji, and slower in nearly every sense. Movement, conversation, daily activity, even the way time feels, all seem to run on a different rhythm. If you come expecting efficiency in the modern sense, you may find yourself frustrated. But if you come ready to settle into the pace of the islands, that slower rhythm becomes one of the most meaningful parts of the experience.
What stayed with me most was how life did not feel staged or performed. It simply was. People moved through their days with a natural sense of presence, and that in itself taught me something.
The Culture and Connection to the Ocean
Kiribati, like Tokelau and Tuvalu, is a place where the relationship to the ocean is impossible to separate from daily life. The lagoon and the open sea are not just scenery. They are sustenance, memory, movement, and continuity. They provide food, shape knowledge, and hold generations of understanding passed down quietly over time.
You can feel that connection even without someone having to explain it to you. It shows itself in fishing, in the way people move through the environment, and in the natural relationship between land and sea on an atoll. Even without going deep yet into formal voyaging traditions, it is clear that ocean knowledge is still part of how life is understood. That is one of the reasons I know I need to return with One Ocean, One People. There is more here to listen to and learn from.
The Reality Few People Talk About
Kiribati is beautiful, but beauty does not erase reality.
Like Tuvalu, Kiribati faces very real environmental pressures. Most of the islands are atolls sitting only a few meters above sea level, and king tides are part of that reality. Climate issues are often discussed from the outside as headlines or symbols, but on the ground they exist as lived conditions that affect homes, roads, land, and the future itself.
At the same time, the simplicity of life that can feel beautiful to a visitor can also create real challenges when times get hard. Access to resources is limited, and support from countries like Australia, New Zealand, Taiwan, and the United States becomes significant during times of need. These pressures, like in many other island nations, can also push migration. For some I-Kiribati, leaving is not only about opportunity but about survival, infrastructure, and the hope for something more stable. None of this takes away from the beauty of Kiribati, but it adds the kind of truth that needs to be acknowledged if one is going to speak honestly about the islands.
What Surprised Me Most
What surprised me most was not the landscape, though that was beautiful in its own way. It was the energy of the people.
There is a raw love and compassion in Kiribati that stays with you. It does not matter how rough things may be at times, or how limited life may appear from the outside. The heart of the people is big. There is warmth, humor, generosity, and a kind of openness that is hard to explain unless you have felt it yourself.
That was the part that stayed with me the longest. More than the atolls, more than the remoteness, more than the novelty of being there. It was the people.
Who Kiribati Is For, And Who It’s Not
Kiribati is not for someone looking for luxury, ease, or the kind of polished experience that smooths over reality. It is not for travelers with rigid expectations of comfort or convenience.
But for the person who can arrive with openness, patience, and curiosity, Kiribati can become one of the most meaningful experiences they will ever have. This is the kind of place where having fewer expectations can actually become the greatest gift. Because once you stop asking it to be something else, Kiribati has a way of giving you something deeper in return.
For me, it became one of the most rewarding places I have ever had the chance to immerse myself in, largely because of the people and the heart they carry.
Its Place in One Ocean, One People
Kiribati was one of seven stops during my 2018 Pacific voyage between Aotearoa and the life I later built in Hawai‘i. Looking back now, it feels like one of the most important links in the chain that would eventually become One Ocean, One People.
At the time, I did not have the language for it yet. I was simply moving, learning, and trying to understand the Pacific one island at a time. But Kiribati gave me something that stayed. It deepened my understanding of atoll life, of ocean-centered existence, and of the different ways Pacific identity is expressed across places that the outside world often collapses into one idea.
That is part of why it matters so much to me now. Kiribati is not just a past experience I look back on fondly. It is part of the foundation of how I came to see Oceania as connected, and why this work matters.
Final Thoughts: Kiribati Beyond the Surface
To this day, Kiribati remains one of my favorite places I have ever had the privilege to experience, and in some ways, to become part of for a moment.
From the warm energy of Butaritari, to the quieter but still loving nature of Abaiang, to the kids in Tarawa yelling “I-Matang” and asking for a selfie, it is no surprise to me that returning feels almost automatic. This time, though, I would return with a different lens. More island experience. A clearer mission. And an even deeper love for Kiribati than the one I left with the first time.
Because that is the thing about Kiribati. It gives you more than what appears on the surface. It is not just another remote Pacific destination. It is a place with heart, with depth, and with a way of staying with you long after you leave.
And for me, that love is easy to carry forward, because it was first given so freely.
Oh by the way, it’s ki-ree-bass 🙂
How You Can Be Part of It
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.
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