How does a society carve its soul into a mountain? We journey to the volcanic crater of Rano Raraku, the island’s silent nursery. Imagine a master carver, centuries ago, his knuckles white around a dense basalt tool, a toki. The rhythmic thwack against the soft volcanic tuff is the only sound in the warm air, chipping away flakes of rock to reveal a stoic face sleeping patiently within the bed...
