TANNA, ENTERING THE NEKOVIAR SPIRIT.
Port villa 21st of September 2007
Strolling into town I meet the mother of Vanessa quai, the most popular and famous singer here in Vanuatu and probably the pacific region. Vanessa is celebrating her 10th year in the music business.
Tonight a hip hop competition takes place. I give it a shot and arrive early on the scene.
I meet Vanessa, and having just heard about a benefit concert she performed in Honiara for the victims of the tsunami that hit the ghizo area, chat with her about the solomons and our friends in the western province. She is 21 years old. So she has started to record music by the time she was 11.
The whole crew on the sound system comes from the Solomon. Of course I have to have a talk with everyone.
Sound check, and a quick rehearsal where I hear the fabulous voice of Vanessa.
The crowd start to come in.
After the few mc talks and a couple of thanks to the sponsors, blablabla, the real stuff comes on.
Hip hop is spreading like wild fire around the world. And the kids here love it. With the powerfull energy of the Vanuatu people it is going to be hot. After a first presentation performance of each group, the real deal is now happening on stage. The battles.
The temperature is rising and everyone gets exited. Including old mamas that watches every moves and react to the dancers.
The moves are unique. During the presentation it felt more like imitation LA or NY. But now with free style they let it rip. The tension rises and tingles of fear appear. Oaudience gang member join on stage for a showdown.
Port villa needs to watch out. If the energy stays in the stage and in battles all is ok. But to imitate the life style of gansters rapper, now the city needs to worry and watch these group. Hip hop brough by the black community in the big American cities calanise social and political violence. Nothing of the sort exist in Vanuatu as yet. Totally a urban phenomena, the memes now travel. Few robberies are now common in villa.
Cement is pouring in. from 3 container a week 2 years ago it is now a constant flow of 70+ containers of cement alone coming in.
Australia has built a huge embassy/fortress on a hill overlooking the city, right next to the parlement of Vanuatu.
80% of the coast of efate is in foreign hands, mainly Australian, many realestate speculator. Once upon a time air Vanuatu produced a great in flight magazine with diversity. Now it has been replaced by a magazine( at least on one of the flight I was on) gold coast, with a big article tittled “discover Vanuatu. Mainly a advertisement campaign for highend resorts, mostly aussie owned and real estate opportunity.
How ironic since Vanuatu is promoting the year of kastom economy. Well not much is going to land on their door. The money invested and made goes straight back to Australia.
A few knights are now on tour to educate the more rural area of what is happening. But they are few.
The strongest unity that I felt as a “we will not surrender our way of life” comes from Tanna. There is a say that no one will mess with a man Tanna.
And from what I experienced there is enough (hopefully) power there to hold on and not sell out.
After the hip hop battles, I went to check out the aussie scene. I couldn’t stay. A good night rest before my expedition to the roots of tanna.
22nd of September 2007
called Philip in Tanna without success I jump on the plane. The plane is full of tourist, mainly to watch one of earth grand show, the eruptions of yasur, Tanna’s volcano.
And maybe many for the Nekoviar ceremony?
Somehow a young Tannese man sit next to me. With a little girl on his lap. He comes from Samoa, where he played with the national Vanuatu team of football. He comes back after 5 years. His name is jean Nako. French speaking.
As no one that I know is at the airport he offers for me to go with him. He lives in ikiti, a village close to the ceremony.
Someone recognize me from the last time we were there and watched the movie that I made there “the voice of kava” and assure me that he would relay the message that I am here in Tanna to Philip.
We jump in a truck for a one hour ride. By the sea shore, rows of leaves are drying with the sea breeze. I recognized the leave by their smell. I had them around my arms in simbo, during the warrior dance “eomba”.
We arrive in the most peacefull place and straight away, the small girl is kissed and hugged, and carried in the arms of the chidren, already playing with her. Nako is a star, and everyone comes to greet him. Little did I know, his grand mother is the wife of one of the 4 chiefs responsible for this area “nekoviar”, and he is the one that started it to begin with. I can’t believe it.
After a rest under the shade of a mango tree(not yet ripe), we set to watch the opening of the dance name consesua in a nakamal half an hour away. Raspberry are in season, and I keep picking them up as we walk past fresh water creeks, and virgin forest.
I came here to film the whole thing, but the men in the nakamal decided not to let me do that. That would all change the next day.
The dance is powerfull with precise movement and that dance I will see 3 times.
After the closing of the dance it is time for kava, Tanna style.
We head for chief Tom’s Nakamal. Here the kava root is freshly harvested and chewed, then squeezed.
The sacred fire of the clan is burning, some food is brough down.
The banyan tree seems to all look at you. After the first shell I finally feel that I arrived. The voice of kava is in me again.
We then go to eat a bite in chief tom’s kitchen.
Remember, the nearest electricity is in lenaken, an hour drive away, 6/7 hour walk.
Pigs and taro cooked by Nako’s grandmother. It is social time, everyone around coming to shake hand.
I will sleep in Tom’s house with Nako for the night.
23rd of September 2007
Sunday, and I am asked if I want to go to church. There is a French catholic mission near by. I first ask if everyone is going. Yes yes yes was the answer.
The sermont is quickly expedited and I would later on see one of the preacher in full swing during a dance.
The singing is great and within a hour the whole deal was over. There I am told that Philip has organized to have me sleep in yesup, where the whole event will take place.
I decide to stay one more night with nako and tom.
After a rest, we go to another village to watch the woman getting ready for their dance.
There, I am now allowed from then on to film everything.
We arrive in the village to watch everyone getting ready. The dance is called napen napen.
The dance last over an hour and a half with at least 30 songs. Each song with their own lyrics and actions, meticulously choregraphed. The gesture is what counts I am told.
The main beat of the dance is made by hitting a woven pandanus bag filled with fern wrapped in a special leave.
I am blown away.
Before the dance is finished I follow 2 man that will dig a huge 12 years of Kava plant to be brought up the next day to the main nakamal of yesup.
We walk first through gardens of taro and yams, and kava.
We first sharpen 2 sticks with the ever present machete. The roots need to be followed to the end and extend for a few meters. The earth is moist, clouds are covering the sky. The huge one meter wide plant is dugged carefully without breaking the leaves. For ceremonial kava, the plant should be kept whole.
I help then dig out the kava that we will drink tonight. There we cut the stems to replant.
It is believed that all kava plant are female and only replanting works. I learn how to cut the stem and plant one myself, to be kept until I might return.
Still wondering how one man can carry such a huge plant through the bush we arrive back at the village. This time the men are not allowed in the nakamal where the woman danced. Who know’s what they are performing now.
I am over the moon to have planted a kava that will grow into a healthy plant.
Datura plants with huge white trumpet as flower are in bloom everywhere.
Time to get back and drink kava. By now the rain is pouring. Not a good sign with the ceremony starting in 2 days.
Songs are heared in the distance. Pigs are brought up to yesup.
Two shells of kava, and the moon is getting fuller. She just has the chance to show herself between the dark clouds that covers the stars.
Meeting again I the kitchen, with new arrivals. By now everyone knows my name and I feel home. We eat roasted breadfruit and fried pork, and the yam collected in the kava garden.
Another night of deep dreams.
24th of September 2007
one day before the ceremony starts.
In the morning we head to yesup to meet up with the chiefs.
As we arrive, and the rain keeps pouring, I am greeted by naser and jean. Naser is strong, with a unbreakable mask. He emane strengh. I can feel it. Jean, a teacher hooses kindness.
We go to visit the pigs pen. On the last count, 73 pigs will be killed on the last day.
One party with pigs arrives. 30 people in all, singing.
After the pig is brough down, a dance, a whirling dance where I am drawn into camera in hand. Unlike the more gestuarly complex dances prepared for the nekoviar here I feel I can be in. a great feeling.
The rains now has started again. it would mean disaster for the event, since the planning took years. The date has been pushed back already a month, to include all nessassary parameter. Enough pigs, enough kava, weather and stars consideration( full moon for light in case no light can be brought up from lenaken), readiness of the dancers….
(and as it turns out magical for me, since I dreamed about seen the nekoviar ever since we first got here 2 years ago, and that maybe it would happen as we are in vanuatu. I remember mentioning it since fiji. I already planned to take some time off from infinity then, at first to spend time with eddie, the sand drawer. Somehow it happened all so fast, the date came through and confirmed while we where in villa. We went to the banks islands, where another small art festival took place. Then I had to figure out a way to be able to afford the trip. The banks are at the top of Vanuatu. With the help of the cultural center, and david at vanuair, the office of tourism sent a letter that gave me 50%off the ticket price. In the mean time I met a lot of the players, and the family helping spirit of the ni Vanuatu that read through me and saw my inner drive.)
now we moved to the smaller nakamal of yesup to watch the opening of that nakamal with the dance called Nao. 50 dancers at least are preparing long fat stick of “Roseau” a type of reed in a bundle. The rains keeps drizzling right now.
All the reeds will need to be burned after the dance and new one made for the final dances in the main nakamal.
The first conch blow has run. Meaning everybody start moving. Man are sitting around the fire eating breadfruit, and mentally preparing themselves. I am now in the hands of Philips relatives, nako has gone to lenaken.
The second blow of the conch gets everyone moving towards their stick and sarong put on, a few leaves in the head.
As the 3rd conch blows, everydancer moves in the center of the nakamal. Now the rain is pouring. But you cannot turn back. The dance has to be performed. So for a hour, in slippery grounds, feets and sticks are stomping the ground. The mud splashes all over and everyone seems to have a lot of fun.
By the end everyone is muddy from head to toes. I film it all from the safety of the covered hut. The nakamal is now open.
Time for kava is coming up. By now I am settling with philip’s sister family. Her husband can’t speak any English or French, but we communicate with our eyes. Earlier on during the day I met the whole family, and had corn with coconut milk for luch, with grated yam “pancakes”. By now my palate craves the simple food from the garden. No spices.
We drink kava at the nakamal. Once again the voice of kava comes in. it is still raining. How many are wondering if they might not have made a mistake?
So far no visitor has showed up yet exept Gerard, a French mathematician living in noumea, retired that came a month ago and stayed and stayed.
Food cooked under the fire and ready for bed. Tomorrow is a big day.
25th of September 2007
as by miracle, the sky start to clear. Unbelievable. Someone is working hard here.
the men are now calling the womans. Dancing in the nakamal in circle, the atmosphere is rising. Meanwhile al around in huts, the lady are preparing themselves with bright colors they paint intricate design on their faces. Layer upon layers of grass skirts. Each group with their distinctive style.
As Jacob (in charge of all the media at the cultural center) points out, what matters is the meaning of the songs, the gesture and the language. The costume is up to the individual.
There is great care in the costume. I heard the words beauty magic. And beautifull there are.
The day before a beautifull woman handed me a handful of raspberry. A garden of eden sight. Tannese know what they have, refuse pesticides, fertilizer, and believe that the spirit of the earth and tanna is enough. Everything comes from it all. All connected.
The voices now in the “arena” is rising. The arena has been prepared since month, with the help of a buldoser, that widened the road a bit( might as well). Other wise everything is done on foot here.
Banyan tree, 3 huge ones have cabana built in them, to view later on the whole ceremony better. And to protect you as I will learn later.
The first group of ladies arrives. Huge roars from the men that are now satisfied and are leaving the nakamal. Each coming in line, closing with the children the ladies drop a pice of lap lap to a pile and take their place. There will be 8 groups.
As their start their first song, beating hard on the napen, the other groups are getting ready.
Slowly but surely the entire place gets filled up with bright colors. Maybe 500/600 woman are now dancing. Young man imitate the lady performing the action of their dances, to intimidate them, as if they make a mistake need to pay back something candy….
The men are also here to watch for a possible bride I am told. Checking and possibly choosing a girl that they like.
Meanwhile a team act as security. They will later on carry the pigs, become security for the big night.
All day the ladies will dance.
Meanwhile more pigs are coming. A few visitor show up but none stays more than a few hours. I just don’t get it.
In the early afternoon, Philip is here. Great to see him. He couldn’t find any transport and walked for 9 hours to get here. He told me that including his family said that he couldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t come to see me. We talk and remember our times. The film “voice of Kava”was a hit, traveling even to ambae, with the only copy that I sent. The woman that had their boys circumpsised cried.
As the light fades, it is time for kava. We have to hide in the bush this time. To many people around. And the ladies should not see the men drinking kava, since they cannot drink it.
As it turn out, the men around are all from port resolution where we anchored with heraclitus a couple of years back. But infinity was there as well, and took the entire football team of port resolution to port villa. They all remember Clemens. What is their surprise when I tell them that we are now sailing with the infinity, and everyone has been on board already. Kava works in mysterious ways.
I also met 3 french guys from noumea, that delivered medical supplies with a helicopter
While waiting for my connecting plane in santo. Organized to possibly meet to fly over yasur. Never made it but mentioned to them Ronnie, the shaman weather maker of port resolution. They took him on board to look at yasur from above. Good to have news from your friends.
With Philip we talk about where we are at. I explain our situation with infinity. I am reminded constanly that I am a man tanna already, and whatever happens I would always have a home here. The know how to live well without hardly any money is still alive here. You can just come.
They practice their values and a man is a man.
After kava food, yams and taro, and taro leaves. The last night of decent sleep. I have been cold, higher altitude, rain and cold temperature. But holding on. I am bare foot since 3 days, a better grip in the muddy path. And I have been moving like a butterfly, trying to get different angle for the camera. The energy is intense and many shot hopefully will show that intensity.
Worried about battery as no electricity has showed up yet. I even have a blister on my knuckles.
Gabriel let me use his tree house. A perilious climb each time with a bamboo ladder where the sticks keep falling off, and a walk over a branches to reach the platform, all with a high definition camera in the hand. But it needs to be done.
26th of September 2007
early rise, as more pigs and kava are coming in. the ladies are already busy preparing the lap lap. A quick breakfast and here we go. This time we are crossing two mountains to reach a nakamal where the toka dance will take place, open it up to be able to travel to yesup in the main nakamal. The path is small but whehever slippery a stick to help you is already in place. This time the procession arrive from the bush, announced by the blow of the conch. And the men are ready with costumes.
Many people are now gathered around the nakamal. Intense, marvelous, amazing, powerfull. All superlative words for a dance that seems effortless but having some experience in theater realize the presision and preparation nessessary for this level of “performances”. Mystical as the energy is now directed towards the nakamal in yesup.
As the dance isperformed, everyone rushes to get to the next nakamal. Another mountain away only.
There the sky is now bright blue, the nakamal overlook the pacific ocean, and more people are arriving. I just can’t figure out from where. It seems like we are in the middle of nowhwere, not a house in sight.
The dancers are amazing. They will stand inches from my lense with all power in their dance. The dance is the 2nd toka. The energy rises and rises. Amzing footage I hope if I stayed steady. Hard when you have 50 warriors, as the toka is considered male, versus the other 3, Nao, Naser and consesua being female, storming towards you.
I climb over the nakamals hut, to capture the actions of some of the dances better. Men transform into birds, boxers, deer….
As the dance finishes, and the next one to far to walk to in time, we head for ikiti. Time to rest for a while. Catch up with Nako.
The conch blow. So we get ready for the opening of consesua. There again, more people have arrived and the atmosphere is electric.
We then move on to see naser opening up and rushes to see the opening of Nao in the main nakamal.
The sun is setting. The mens dance are completed and it is time for kava while the ladies are now preparing to dance all night.
I am warned that this evening anything can happen. Bad things to, since the killing of the pigs the next day mark a new beginning where everything from the past is forgotten. Man guard their ladies carefully. A team of a hundred will act as security.
The outside word has no jurusdiction here. No government or police is allowed to use any power.
The kava is drunk again in the bush. The voice of kava enters.
Now a huge crowd of close to 700 people maybe a thousand are now warming up the arena. This is real. Intense, intimidating, powerfull. The call is irresistible. Electricity showed up in the form of 2 small generator that light dimly the place.
I have at least 3/4 people with me at all time. As the first group of ladies enter, the whole place goes wild. A crowd of young man keep undulating through the arena, running like a ske. Armed with sticks, some with deer antler attached to them form a wild exited army. Nothing can stop them. I keep filming in the dim light atmospherical shots, when the waves of men corners me against a banyan tree, pocking with their sticks. I snake my way out ot it. Camera crew have been know to loose cameras and all in the arena. It is all real. Their could kill me if their wanted to and the ceremony would not stop. And no judicial power would have any legal power to do anything about it.
The night is really a free space. And freedom where everything is permited is a dangerous game.
But their control the energies like I have never seen before. And it rises, and rises, and rises. Peeks brings me into tears of admiration. Most of the world would tear each other into pieces with this intensity.
Now I took refuge in the tree house, determined not to sleep. And the music intensifies, peeking. The hord of youngsters with their shark stick won’t sleep either.
In the middle of the night I get back down, in the arena, with protection from body guard this time. Some young mans keep dancing with the lady. Some chiefs keep flashing their torch light as soon as their feel the vibes gets too hot. I am in awe.
It is now 4am. I hear the chiefs deciding that the first men’s group should strat coming on at 4.30 am. As the last of the ladies sing something extraordinary happens. All together the crowd turns into a human waves, going back and forth, running faster and faster.
Suddenly the men enter. Greeted by the crowd, touching in vibration the men are pulled in as by magic. They carry a long pole made out of hawks feather, 20 feet high, representing a high chief and the connection with the god of the earth. They whirl and a big hooooooooooo. The pole is brough down, secured against the giant banyan tree.
Now the first dance, the Toka dance starts. Everyone gives everything their got. The actions are incarnations of past and present stories. The earth is shaking. The first sign of dawn appear. The stars shine bright. Not a cloud overhead.
As
The dance finishes, the waves starts again, calling in the next group of dancers. Again, I am in awe by the raw power of it all. I keep my camera steady, even in the dim light something transpire through.
Another Toka dance. Again with the long pole. Again the dancers give their best.
Next Naser comes on. The warriors. Unbelievable energies. The crowd goes wild.
Then it is consesua to appear. The object with wich the men dance are carved birds, hawks.
To close the men’s, it is the turn to the Nao dancers. They come in with two poles. They are the host nakamal.
The ladies are jumping up and down to the beat of the songs.
The sun now has risen, shining through the forest of Roseau poles.
The ground is now fuming, stomping. What a finale from the men.
But the day has just started. By 9am a exchange of laplap cooked by the woman the previous day is performed. Every clan will exchange laplap with another.
And now the time for the killing of the pig. La tuerie des cochons.
In procession two clan meet in songs that challenges the other. On one carrying pole is a pig with a man, chief sitting on top. Behind is the most enourmous kava plant. Some are 15/20 years old. Grown especially for ceremonies like these.
Meanwhile ladies are dancing, running singing up and down the nakamal.
This goes on until all the pigs and kava is brought in. 73 pigs, and 73 kava plants. The pigs are then clubbed, by a specialist. The clubber. No pig should remain alive. The sacrifice is to start anew, to cancel whatever might have happen during the night. I have seen the faces of the chiefs watching, sensing, feeling. They can be proud.
Now all the pigs lay dead, while some dogs licks the blood drips. Chichen are lokking for pieces of lapalap.
A old man from the custom village hands me a piece of roasted taro. I had no idea I was that hungry.
I sit in contemplation on top of a huge kava plant while some chiefs are now conducting the alignement of the pigs and the kava.
The day before I went with them as their walked the line already.
Now all the pigs are in perfect alignement, and the last rite is performed. One man, will be big man one day, walk over the pigs, and brings back the other way a toka pole.
Now each man chooses a pig. In a month time another exchange will take place. But the time, the one that choose the pig will return one of the same size, value according to the species.
A man here without pigs is not a man. Their plant their toka pole onto the pigs that their choose and it is now over.
Little by little everyone is packing up, carrying, dragging their pigs or kava roots.
Tonight kava will flow. And pig will be eaten.
We will drink kava in a nakamal for the people of imake. I am with Jacob and Philip.
The men chewing my kava is none than the men that made the weather shift. They are two that remain on the island, and he was brought especially for that. There are numerous smaller one, some chiefs like tom has a special place for this type of control.
He is not shy or arrogant about it. Simply admits it.
We will drink two shells. This time I am feeling the spirits. Jacob becomes telepathic in our conversations, and while going for a pee, I feel and see the gates that protects the nakamal. We are in a sacred space. The moon shines bright, almost talks to you. The stars as well.
We are at the beginning of times. On the small fire, perfect, the inside of the pig are roasting, along with yams, cassava, eggs wrapped in leaves.
I am high. Everything speaks. The tree now become friends, swaying in the wind. Strange whirling winds, creating patterns in the leaves. Everyone is quiet, in meditative mood. Attention to the bigger than you. Attention to the sacred.
I am full. Although I am getting an infection due to roughing it in the rain the mud….i am full of life. I am priviledged to experience this event the way I was brought in and supported.
Hands were always ready to help. To carry my bag when the trails where so slippery I could hardly walk. In the arena, where I danced and run. In the kitchen where food always came, in the nakamal for the chewers that knew I couldn’t participate. My jaws could bite into raw sugar cane, pigs heart… but couldn’t do the kava.
I had numerous conversation about all and everthing. Tanna is ever more the secret garden of my beginning.
The dance are pure, essential. Hands and feet and voice. No created instrument. Back to the beat of the earth. I found the melodies and beats afterwards in birds, in insects, in the wind, wispering in my ears.
I have seen many dances in my life. And the raw yet so sophisticated energy, transformed through individuals to create a unity I have not experienced anywhere else.
It is our roots, that we have forgotten, that we are destroying. Yes I found in these days the origins of humans cultures. Passed on and adapted since thousand of years. But the gestures, the song are ancestral.
In the beginning of cultures, there was man and himself, with each other. They are still intirely biospheric. Their connection with our planet is deep. The voices of the earth is coming out. The spirit of the earth is hoosing through.
And man tanna has never capitulated. Their where key to the independence of Vanuatu, they are key to check on the non total corruption of the governement and are now scared to come in and do something about it.
Few years ago they looted the corrupt. No one else. They advised before hand to the “good” guys to close their shop and that they would not touch them. And did just what they said. The government was then very carefull.
They also tolerate but do not follow any religion blindfolden. Thinkers they are.
But their biggest contribution in my book in in the transformation and creation of subltle energies. As some men tries to meditate, in tanna it is for everyone. And together they will survive. That spirit is non negotiable. Not for sale.
28th of September 2007
after a gift exchange in the morning, and the assurance that all the work to film the event will eventually come back to them( 6 month to 8 month time) I leave with so much. For the memorie, I carrie back a napen that was beaten for two days by Philip sisters, two feather decoration, a grass skirt and a consesua bird.
That bird attracted the attention of the airport and somehow was like a magic wand opening doors.
We get in a truck, dropping a flashlight to chief tom along the way, saying goodby, and moving down to lenaken. We were lucky to get transport. Now that the nekoviar is over, very few traffic head that way.
In lenaken, wondering what to do, Philip suggest that I leave if I can, because again of transport. I can take the plane the same day, and he will continue on to imake to see his son. I brought him some dvd to watch. He is delivering them.
I meet jacob’s father, a chief in imake. His eyes are shinning. We keep talking in bislama. Not that the words matter. I feel like he sees me from the inside. A rebel for sure, a keeper of knowledge.
My apprentice ship in tanna has just started it feels, and I know I will be back someday. They are few places like that, that become part of you whenever you go. The spirit of tanna is growing inside me.
The creation of a planetary man, not simply by travel, but by spirit. I will always be gratefull for this teaching.
At the airport, the planes looks full. Irony of history. Some Americans are chatting away, coming from the resort, while a group of muslims are waiting for the plane as well.
Somehow I do not make that plane. How remarquable is the brain washing machine of mass media. I had to think of a bomb, while I was carrying my two pelican cases. So did the customs since for the first time they asked to see what is inside. Somehow I will not make that plane. For strange reason I go on a small plane carrying one old man and another passenger and myself. And that is it.
I land from Tanna in port villa in the late afternoon. I am barefoot. My flip flops got lost in the whole toka event. Back to the guest house hibiscus. The night security man is from tanna.
I head for napfest to grab a bite to eat. Band are playing. In the crowd, eddie spots me. We hang out but I am beat up. I even refuse a bowl of kava. I try to get back but collapse half way. I nap in the grass and make it back for a good night sleep.
Port villa, 29 of September 2007
I spend the morning scrutinizing all the shops. And all I can see almost is Chinese businesses, selling cheap goods, busy on their calculators all day long.
The hardware shops are growing like mushroom, a good indication of what is going on here.
I indulge then in a caffee au lait with two croissant while reading the newspaper.
Interesting article on the depletion of the tuna stock, a rally for the pacific to unite and keep the big superpower at bay for a while, or at least some kind of control. The festival in gaua made it with lots of pictures, and the rugby world cup with the win of fiji. Quite a few players are from Ngau. A name that keep popping up. The last dance in tanna was also Nao.
Anyhow, talked to lot’s of bus drivers. Get to a second hand shop to get a pair of jeans.
The lady is a retired nurse from the Solomon islands, and was brought up in the artificial islands of malaita. In villa since 40 years. Wild stories about the condominium, the suposelly alliance between the french and the english. Both kept their systems, to the confusion of everyone, having now to deal with two bureaucracy instead of one.
In sola, the primary school is still in French, while the secondary is in English.
The Australian are in general not well received. If their treat the ni Vanuatu the way they treat the arboriginal community no wonder. I seeing them bossy even slapping a employe.
A anecdote: a Australian watches a ni Vanuatu cut a piece of bamboo to put up a screen. He then takes on to teach the guy that was doing a good job how to “properly” cut bamboo. He fails miserably, try for five minutes, after exaustion the Vanuatu men takes back the saw, finish the job almost to the end but the Australian is not giving in and start trying to break the bamboo with his feet. Then he keeps going on with how to tie it and on and on. The Vanuatu guys watch, smiling. He is suposelly the boss after all. (taking their land, and sending all the money back to Australia. Nothing is put back in.
I meet eddie for kava. But first he has to perform with the kids that he teaches. They will perform 4 custom dances. Meanwhile big band name are playing on stage. We start preparing the kids that are arriving in the museum, along lapita potery, masks, and so on. I become the face and body painter, taking each kid in turn, about 30.
Strolling into town I meet the mother of Vanessa quai, the most popular and famous singer here in Vanuatu and probably the pacific region. Vanessa is celebrating her 10th year in the music business.
Tonight a hip hop competition takes place. I give it a shot and arrive early on the scene.
I meet Vanessa, and having just heard about a benefit concert she performed in Honiara for the victims of the tsunami that hit the ghizo area, chat with her about the solomons and our friends in the western province. She is 21 years old. So she has started to record music by the time she was 11.
The whole crew on the sound system comes from the Solomon. Of course I have to have a talk with everyone.
Sound check, and a quick rehearsal where I hear the fabulous voice of Vanessa.
The crowd start to come in.
After the few mc talks and a couple of thanks to the sponsors, blablabla, the real stuff comes on.
Hip hop is spreading like wild fire around the world. And the kids here love it. With the powerfull energy of the Vanuatu people it is going to be hot. After a first presentation performance of each group, the real deal is now happening on stage. The battles.
The temperature is rising and everyone gets exited. Including old mamas that watches every moves and react to the dancers.
The moves are unique. During the presentation it felt more like imitation LA or NY. But now with free style they let it rip. The tension rises and tingles of fear appear. Oaudience gang member join on stage for a showdown.
Port villa needs to watch out. If the energy stays in the stage and in battles all is ok. But to imitate the life style of gansters rapper, now the city needs to worry and watch these group. Hip hop brough by the black community in the big American cities calanise social and political violence. Nothing of the sort exist in Vanuatu as yet. Totally a urban phenomena, the memes now travel. Few robberies are now common in villa.
Cement is pouring in. from 3 container a week 2 years ago it is now a constant flow of 70+ containers of cement alone coming in.
Australia has built a huge embassy/fortress on a hill overlooking the city, right next to the parlement of Vanuatu.
80% of the coast of efate is in foreign hands, mainly Australian, many realestate speculator. Once upon a time air Vanuatu produced a great in flight magazine with diversity. Now it has been replaced by a magazine( at least on one of the flight I was on) gold coast, with a big article tittled “discover Vanuatu. Mainly a advertisement campaign for highend resorts, mostly aussie owned and real estate opportunity.
How ironic since Vanuatu is promoting the year of kastom economy. Well not much is going to land on their door. The money invested and made goes straight back to Australia.
A few knights are now on tour to educate the more rural area of what is happening. But they are few.
The strongest unity that I felt as a “we will not surrender our way of life” comes from Tanna. There is a say that no one will mess with a man Tanna.
And from what I experienced there is enough (hopefully) power there to hold on and not sell out.
After the hip hop battles, I went to check out the aussie scene. I couldn’t stay. A good night rest before my expedition to the roots of tanna.
22nd of September 2007
called Philip in Tanna without success I jump on the plane. The plane is full of tourist, mainly to watch one of earth grand show, the eruptions of yasur, Tanna’s volcano.
And maybe many for the Nekoviar ceremony?
Somehow a young Tannese man sit next to me. With a little girl on his lap. He comes from Samoa, where he played with the national Vanuatu team of football. He comes back after 5 years. His name is jean Nako. French speaking.
As no one that I know is at the airport he offers for me to go with him. He lives in ikiti, a village close to the ceremony.
Someone recognize me from the last time we were there and watched the movie that I made there “the voice of kava” and assure me that he would relay the message that I am here in Tanna to Philip.
We jump in a truck for a one hour ride. By the sea shore, rows of leaves are drying with the sea breeze. I recognized the leave by their smell. I had them around my arms in simbo, during the warrior dance “eomba”.
We arrive in the most peacefull place and straight away, the small girl is kissed and hugged, and carried in the arms of the chidren, already playing with her. Nako is a star, and everyone comes to greet him. Little did I know, his grand mother is the wife of one of the 4 chiefs responsible for this area “nekoviar”, and he is the one that started it to begin with. I can’t believe it.
After a rest under the shade of a mango tree(not yet ripe), we set to watch the opening of the dance name consesua in a nakamal half an hour away. Raspberry are in season, and I keep picking them up as we walk past fresh water creeks, and virgin forest.
I came here to film the whole thing, but the men in the nakamal decided not to let me do that. That would all change the next day.
The dance is powerfull with precise movement and that dance I will see 3 times.
After the closing of the dance it is time for kava, Tanna style.
We head for chief Tom’s Nakamal. Here the kava root is freshly harvested and chewed, then squeezed.
The sacred fire of the clan is burning, some food is brough down.
The banyan tree seems to all look at you. After the first shell I finally feel that I arrived. The voice of kava is in me again.
We then go to eat a bite in chief tom’s kitchen.
Remember, the nearest electricity is in lenaken, an hour drive away, 6/7 hour walk.
Pigs and taro cooked by Nako’s grandmother. It is social time, everyone around coming to shake hand.
I will sleep in Tom’s house with Nako for the night.
23rd of September 2007
Sunday, and I am asked if I want to go to church. There is a French catholic mission near by. I first ask if everyone is going. Yes yes yes was the answer.
The sermont is quickly expedited and I would later on see one of the preacher in full swing during a dance.
The singing is great and within a hour the whole deal was over. There I am told that Philip has organized to have me sleep in yesup, where the whole event will take place.
I decide to stay one more night with nako and tom.
After a rest, we go to another village to watch the woman getting ready for their dance.
There, I am now allowed from then on to film everything.
We arrive in the village to watch everyone getting ready. The dance is called napen napen.
The dance last over an hour and a half with at least 30 songs. Each song with their own lyrics and actions, meticulously choregraphed. The gesture is what counts I am told.
The main beat of the dance is made by hitting a woven pandanus bag filled with fern wrapped in a special leave.
I am blown away.
Before the dance is finished I follow 2 man that will dig a huge 12 years of Kava plant to be brought up the next day to the main nakamal of yesup.
We walk first through gardens of taro and yams, and kava.
We first sharpen 2 sticks with the ever present machete. The roots need to be followed to the end and extend for a few meters. The earth is moist, clouds are covering the sky. The huge one meter wide plant is dugged carefully without breaking the leaves. For ceremonial kava, the plant should be kept whole.
I help then dig out the kava that we will drink tonight. There we cut the stems to replant.
It is believed that all kava plant are female and only replanting works. I learn how to cut the stem and plant one myself, to be kept until I might return.
Still wondering how one man can carry such a huge plant through the bush we arrive back at the village. This time the men are not allowed in the nakamal where the woman danced. Who know’s what they are performing now.
I am over the moon to have planted a kava that will grow into a healthy plant.
Datura plants with huge white trumpet as flower are in bloom everywhere.
Time to get back and drink kava. By now the rain is pouring. Not a good sign with the ceremony starting in 2 days.
Songs are heared in the distance. Pigs are brought up to yesup.
Two shells of kava, and the moon is getting fuller. She just has the chance to show herself between the dark clouds that covers the stars.
Meeting again I the kitchen, with new arrivals. By now everyone knows my name and I feel home. We eat roasted breadfruit and fried pork, and the yam collected in the kava garden.
Another night of deep dreams.
24th of September 2007
one day before the ceremony starts.
In the morning we head to yesup to meet up with the chiefs.
As we arrive, and the rain keeps pouring, I am greeted by naser and jean. Naser is strong, with a unbreakable mask. He emane strengh. I can feel it. Jean, a teacher hooses kindness.
We go to visit the pigs pen. On the last count, 73 pigs will be killed on the last day.
One party with pigs arrives. 30 people in all, singing.
After the pig is brough down, a dance, a whirling dance where I am drawn into camera in hand. Unlike the more gestuarly complex dances prepared for the nekoviar here I feel I can be in. a great feeling.
The rains now has started again. it would mean disaster for the event, since the planning took years. The date has been pushed back already a month, to include all nessassary parameter. Enough pigs, enough kava, weather and stars consideration( full moon for light in case no light can be brought up from lenaken), readiness of the dancers….
(and as it turns out magical for me, since I dreamed about seen the nekoviar ever since we first got here 2 years ago, and that maybe it would happen as we are in vanuatu. I remember mentioning it since fiji. I already planned to take some time off from infinity then, at first to spend time with eddie, the sand drawer. Somehow it happened all so fast, the date came through and confirmed while we where in villa. We went to the banks islands, where another small art festival took place. Then I had to figure out a way to be able to afford the trip. The banks are at the top of Vanuatu. With the help of the cultural center, and david at vanuair, the office of tourism sent a letter that gave me 50%off the ticket price. In the mean time I met a lot of the players, and the family helping spirit of the ni Vanuatu that read through me and saw my inner drive.)
now we moved to the smaller nakamal of yesup to watch the opening of that nakamal with the dance called Nao. 50 dancers at least are preparing long fat stick of “Roseau” a type of reed in a bundle. The rains keeps drizzling right now.
All the reeds will need to be burned after the dance and new one made for the final dances in the main nakamal.
The first conch blow has run. Meaning everybody start moving. Man are sitting around the fire eating breadfruit, and mentally preparing themselves. I am now in the hands of Philips relatives, nako has gone to lenaken.
The second blow of the conch gets everyone moving towards their stick and sarong put on, a few leaves in the head.
As the 3rd conch blows, everydancer moves in the center of the nakamal. Now the rain is pouring. But you cannot turn back. The dance has to be performed. So for a hour, in slippery grounds, feets and sticks are stomping the ground. The mud splashes all over and everyone seems to have a lot of fun.
By the end everyone is muddy from head to toes. I film it all from the safety of the covered hut. The nakamal is now open.
Time for kava is coming up. By now I am settling with philip’s sister family. Her husband can’t speak any English or French, but we communicate with our eyes. Earlier on during the day I met the whole family, and had corn with coconut milk for luch, with grated yam “pancakes”. By now my palate craves the simple food from the garden. No spices.
We drink kava at the nakamal. Once again the voice of kava comes in. it is still raining. How many are wondering if they might not have made a mistake?
So far no visitor has showed up yet exept Gerard, a French mathematician living in noumea, retired that came a month ago and stayed and stayed.
Food cooked under the fire and ready for bed. Tomorrow is a big day.
25th of September 2007
as by miracle, the sky start to clear. Unbelievable. Someone is working hard here.
the men are now calling the womans. Dancing in the nakamal in circle, the atmosphere is rising. Meanwhile al around in huts, the lady are preparing themselves with bright colors they paint intricate design on their faces. Layer upon layers of grass skirts. Each group with their distinctive style.
As Jacob (in charge of all the media at the cultural center) points out, what matters is the meaning of the songs, the gesture and the language. The costume is up to the individual.
There is great care in the costume. I heard the words beauty magic. And beautifull there are.
The day before a beautifull woman handed me a handful of raspberry. A garden of eden sight. Tannese know what they have, refuse pesticides, fertilizer, and believe that the spirit of the earth and tanna is enough. Everything comes from it all. All connected.
The voices now in the “arena” is rising. The arena has been prepared since month, with the help of a buldoser, that widened the road a bit( might as well). Other wise everything is done on foot here.
Banyan tree, 3 huge ones have cabana built in them, to view later on the whole ceremony better. And to protect you as I will learn later.
The first group of ladies arrives. Huge roars from the men that are now satisfied and are leaving the nakamal. Each coming in line, closing with the children the ladies drop a pice of lap lap to a pile and take their place. There will be 8 groups.
As their start their first song, beating hard on the napen, the other groups are getting ready.
Slowly but surely the entire place gets filled up with bright colors. Maybe 500/600 woman are now dancing. Young man imitate the lady performing the action of their dances, to intimidate them, as if they make a mistake need to pay back something candy….
The men are also here to watch for a possible bride I am told. Checking and possibly choosing a girl that they like.
Meanwhile a team act as security. They will later on carry the pigs, become security for the big night.
All day the ladies will dance.
Meanwhile more pigs are coming. A few visitor show up but none stays more than a few hours. I just don’t get it.
In the early afternoon, Philip is here. Great to see him. He couldn’t find any transport and walked for 9 hours to get here. He told me that including his family said that he couldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t come to see me. We talk and remember our times. The film “voice of Kava”was a hit, traveling even to ambae, with the only copy that I sent. The woman that had their boys circumpsised cried.
As the light fades, it is time for kava. We have to hide in the bush this time. To many people around. And the ladies should not see the men drinking kava, since they cannot drink it.
As it turn out, the men around are all from port resolution where we anchored with heraclitus a couple of years back. But infinity was there as well, and took the entire football team of port resolution to port villa. They all remember Clemens. What is their surprise when I tell them that we are now sailing with the infinity, and everyone has been on board already. Kava works in mysterious ways.
I also met 3 french guys from noumea, that delivered medical supplies with a helicopter
While waiting for my connecting plane in santo. Organized to possibly meet to fly over yasur. Never made it but mentioned to them Ronnie, the shaman weather maker of port resolution. They took him on board to look at yasur from above. Good to have news from your friends.
With Philip we talk about where we are at. I explain our situation with infinity. I am reminded constanly that I am a man tanna already, and whatever happens I would always have a home here. The know how to live well without hardly any money is still alive here. You can just come.
They practice their values and a man is a man.
After kava food, yams and taro, and taro leaves. The last night of decent sleep. I have been cold, higher altitude, rain and cold temperature. But holding on. I am bare foot since 3 days, a better grip in the muddy path. And I have been moving like a butterfly, trying to get different angle for the camera. The energy is intense and many shot hopefully will show that intensity.
Worried about battery as no electricity has showed up yet. I even have a blister on my knuckles.
Gabriel let me use his tree house. A perilious climb each time with a bamboo ladder where the sticks keep falling off, and a walk over a branches to reach the platform, all with a high definition camera in the hand. But it needs to be done.
26th of September 2007
early rise, as more pigs and kava are coming in. the ladies are already busy preparing the lap lap. A quick breakfast and here we go. This time we are crossing two mountains to reach a nakamal where the toka dance will take place, open it up to be able to travel to yesup in the main nakamal. The path is small but whehever slippery a stick to help you is already in place. This time the procession arrive from the bush, announced by the blow of the conch. And the men are ready with costumes.
Many people are now gathered around the nakamal. Intense, marvelous, amazing, powerfull. All superlative words for a dance that seems effortless but having some experience in theater realize the presision and preparation nessessary for this level of “performances”. Mystical as the energy is now directed towards the nakamal in yesup.
As the dance isperformed, everyone rushes to get to the next nakamal. Another mountain away only.
There the sky is now bright blue, the nakamal overlook the pacific ocean, and more people are arriving. I just can’t figure out from where. It seems like we are in the middle of nowhwere, not a house in sight.
The dancers are amazing. They will stand inches from my lense with all power in their dance. The dance is the 2nd toka. The energy rises and rises. Amzing footage I hope if I stayed steady. Hard when you have 50 warriors, as the toka is considered male, versus the other 3, Nao, Naser and consesua being female, storming towards you.
I climb over the nakamals hut, to capture the actions of some of the dances better. Men transform into birds, boxers, deer….
As the dance finishes, and the next one to far to walk to in time, we head for ikiti. Time to rest for a while. Catch up with Nako.
The conch blow. So we get ready for the opening of consesua. There again, more people have arrived and the atmosphere is electric.
We then move on to see naser opening up and rushes to see the opening of Nao in the main nakamal.
The sun is setting. The mens dance are completed and it is time for kava while the ladies are now preparing to dance all night.
I am warned that this evening anything can happen. Bad things to, since the killing of the pigs the next day mark a new beginning where everything from the past is forgotten. Man guard their ladies carefully. A team of a hundred will act as security.
The outside word has no jurusdiction here. No government or police is allowed to use any power.
The kava is drunk again in the bush. The voice of kava enters.
Now a huge crowd of close to 700 people maybe a thousand are now warming up the arena. This is real. Intense, intimidating, powerfull. The call is irresistible. Electricity showed up in the form of 2 small generator that light dimly the place.
I have at least 3/4 people with me at all time. As the first group of ladies enter, the whole place goes wild. A crowd of young man keep undulating through the arena, running like a ske. Armed with sticks, some with deer antler attached to them form a wild exited army. Nothing can stop them. I keep filming in the dim light atmospherical shots, when the waves of men corners me against a banyan tree, pocking with their sticks. I snake my way out ot it. Camera crew have been know to loose cameras and all in the arena. It is all real. Their could kill me if their wanted to and the ceremony would not stop. And no judicial power would have any legal power to do anything about it.
The night is really a free space. And freedom where everything is permited is a dangerous game.
But their control the energies like I have never seen before. And it rises, and rises, and rises. Peeks brings me into tears of admiration. Most of the world would tear each other into pieces with this intensity.
Now I took refuge in the tree house, determined not to sleep. And the music intensifies, peeking. The hord of youngsters with their shark stick won’t sleep either.
In the middle of the night I get back down, in the arena, with protection from body guard this time. Some young mans keep dancing with the lady. Some chiefs keep flashing their torch light as soon as their feel the vibes gets too hot. I am in awe.
It is now 4am. I hear the chiefs deciding that the first men’s group should strat coming on at 4.30 am. As the last of the ladies sing something extraordinary happens. All together the crowd turns into a human waves, going back and forth, running faster and faster.
Suddenly the men enter. Greeted by the crowd, touching in vibration the men are pulled in as by magic. They carry a long pole made out of hawks feather, 20 feet high, representing a high chief and the connection with the god of the earth. They whirl and a big hooooooooooo. The pole is brough down, secured against the giant banyan tree.
Now the first dance, the Toka dance starts. Everyone gives everything their got. The actions are incarnations of past and present stories. The earth is shaking. The first sign of dawn appear. The stars shine bright. Not a cloud overhead.
As
The dance finishes, the waves starts again, calling in the next group of dancers. Again, I am in awe by the raw power of it all. I keep my camera steady, even in the dim light something transpire through.
Another Toka dance. Again with the long pole. Again the dancers give their best.
Next Naser comes on. The warriors. Unbelievable energies. The crowd goes wild.
Then it is consesua to appear. The object with wich the men dance are carved birds, hawks.
To close the men’s, it is the turn to the Nao dancers. They come in with two poles. They are the host nakamal.
The ladies are jumping up and down to the beat of the songs.
The sun now has risen, shining through the forest of Roseau poles.
The ground is now fuming, stomping. What a finale from the men.
But the day has just started. By 9am a exchange of laplap cooked by the woman the previous day is performed. Every clan will exchange laplap with another.
And now the time for the killing of the pig. La tuerie des cochons.
In procession two clan meet in songs that challenges the other. On one carrying pole is a pig with a man, chief sitting on top. Behind is the most enourmous kava plant. Some are 15/20 years old. Grown especially for ceremonies like these.
Meanwhile ladies are dancing, running singing up and down the nakamal.
This goes on until all the pigs and kava is brought in. 73 pigs, and 73 kava plants. The pigs are then clubbed, by a specialist. The clubber. No pig should remain alive. The sacrifice is to start anew, to cancel whatever might have happen during the night. I have seen the faces of the chiefs watching, sensing, feeling. They can be proud.
Now all the pigs lay dead, while some dogs licks the blood drips. Chichen are lokking for pieces of lapalap.
A old man from the custom village hands me a piece of roasted taro. I had no idea I was that hungry.
I sit in contemplation on top of a huge kava plant while some chiefs are now conducting the alignement of the pigs and the kava.
The day before I went with them as their walked the line already.
Now all the pigs are in perfect alignement, and the last rite is performed. One man, will be big man one day, walk over the pigs, and brings back the other way a toka pole.
Now each man chooses a pig. In a month time another exchange will take place. But the time, the one that choose the pig will return one of the same size, value according to the species.
A man here without pigs is not a man. Their plant their toka pole onto the pigs that their choose and it is now over.
Little by little everyone is packing up, carrying, dragging their pigs or kava roots.
Tonight kava will flow. And pig will be eaten.
We will drink kava in a nakamal for the people of imake. I am with Jacob and Philip.
The men chewing my kava is none than the men that made the weather shift. They are two that remain on the island, and he was brought especially for that. There are numerous smaller one, some chiefs like tom has a special place for this type of control.
He is not shy or arrogant about it. Simply admits it.
We will drink two shells. This time I am feeling the spirits. Jacob becomes telepathic in our conversations, and while going for a pee, I feel and see the gates that protects the nakamal. We are in a sacred space. The moon shines bright, almost talks to you. The stars as well.
We are at the beginning of times. On the small fire, perfect, the inside of the pig are roasting, along with yams, cassava, eggs wrapped in leaves.
I am high. Everything speaks. The tree now become friends, swaying in the wind. Strange whirling winds, creating patterns in the leaves. Everyone is quiet, in meditative mood. Attention to the bigger than you. Attention to the sacred.
I am full. Although I am getting an infection due to roughing it in the rain the mud….i am full of life. I am priviledged to experience this event the way I was brought in and supported.
Hands were always ready to help. To carry my bag when the trails where so slippery I could hardly walk. In the arena, where I danced and run. In the kitchen where food always came, in the nakamal for the chewers that knew I couldn’t participate. My jaws could bite into raw sugar cane, pigs heart… but couldn’t do the kava.
I had numerous conversation about all and everthing. Tanna is ever more the secret garden of my beginning.
The dance are pure, essential. Hands and feet and voice. No created instrument. Back to the beat of the earth. I found the melodies and beats afterwards in birds, in insects, in the wind, wispering in my ears.
I have seen many dances in my life. And the raw yet so sophisticated energy, transformed through individuals to create a unity I have not experienced anywhere else.
It is our roots, that we have forgotten, that we are destroying. Yes I found in these days the origins of humans cultures. Passed on and adapted since thousand of years. But the gestures, the song are ancestral.
In the beginning of cultures, there was man and himself, with each other. They are still intirely biospheric. Their connection with our planet is deep. The voices of the earth is coming out. The spirit of the earth is hoosing through.
And man tanna has never capitulated. Their where key to the independence of Vanuatu, they are key to check on the non total corruption of the governement and are now scared to come in and do something about it.
Few years ago they looted the corrupt. No one else. They advised before hand to the “good” guys to close their shop and that they would not touch them. And did just what they said. The government was then very carefull.
They also tolerate but do not follow any religion blindfolden. Thinkers they are.
But their biggest contribution in my book in in the transformation and creation of subltle energies. As some men tries to meditate, in tanna it is for everyone. And together they will survive. That spirit is non negotiable. Not for sale.
28th of September 2007
after a gift exchange in the morning, and the assurance that all the work to film the event will eventually come back to them( 6 month to 8 month time) I leave with so much. For the memorie, I carrie back a napen that was beaten for two days by Philip sisters, two feather decoration, a grass skirt and a consesua bird.
That bird attracted the attention of the airport and somehow was like a magic wand opening doors.
We get in a truck, dropping a flashlight to chief tom along the way, saying goodby, and moving down to lenaken. We were lucky to get transport. Now that the nekoviar is over, very few traffic head that way.
In lenaken, wondering what to do, Philip suggest that I leave if I can, because again of transport. I can take the plane the same day, and he will continue on to imake to see his son. I brought him some dvd to watch. He is delivering them.
I meet jacob’s father, a chief in imake. His eyes are shinning. We keep talking in bislama. Not that the words matter. I feel like he sees me from the inside. A rebel for sure, a keeper of knowledge.
My apprentice ship in tanna has just started it feels, and I know I will be back someday. They are few places like that, that become part of you whenever you go. The spirit of tanna is growing inside me.
The creation of a planetary man, not simply by travel, but by spirit. I will always be gratefull for this teaching.
At the airport, the planes looks full. Irony of history. Some Americans are chatting away, coming from the resort, while a group of muslims are waiting for the plane as well.
Somehow I do not make that plane. How remarquable is the brain washing machine of mass media. I had to think of a bomb, while I was carrying my two pelican cases. So did the customs since for the first time they asked to see what is inside. Somehow I will not make that plane. For strange reason I go on a small plane carrying one old man and another passenger and myself. And that is it.
I land from Tanna in port villa in the late afternoon. I am barefoot. My flip flops got lost in the whole toka event. Back to the guest house hibiscus. The night security man is from tanna.
I head for napfest to grab a bite to eat. Band are playing. In the crowd, eddie spots me. We hang out but I am beat up. I even refuse a bowl of kava. I try to get back but collapse half way. I nap in the grass and make it back for a good night sleep.
Port villa, 29 of September 2007
I spend the morning scrutinizing all the shops. And all I can see almost is Chinese businesses, selling cheap goods, busy on their calculators all day long.
The hardware shops are growing like mushroom, a good indication of what is going on here.
I indulge then in a caffee au lait with two croissant while reading the newspaper.
Interesting article on the depletion of the tuna stock, a rally for the pacific to unite and keep the big superpower at bay for a while, or at least some kind of control. The festival in gaua made it with lots of pictures, and the rugby world cup with the win of fiji. Quite a few players are from Ngau. A name that keep popping up. The last dance in tanna was also Nao.
Anyhow, talked to lot’s of bus drivers. Get to a second hand shop to get a pair of jeans.
The lady is a retired nurse from the Solomon islands, and was brought up in the artificial islands of malaita. In villa since 40 years. Wild stories about the condominium, the suposelly alliance between the french and the english. Both kept their systems, to the confusion of everyone, having now to deal with two bureaucracy instead of one.
In sola, the primary school is still in French, while the secondary is in English.
The Australian are in general not well received. If their treat the ni Vanuatu the way they treat the arboriginal community no wonder. I seeing them bossy even slapping a employe.
A anecdote: a Australian watches a ni Vanuatu cut a piece of bamboo to put up a screen. He then takes on to teach the guy that was doing a good job how to “properly” cut bamboo. He fails miserably, try for five minutes, after exaustion the Vanuatu men takes back the saw, finish the job almost to the end but the Australian is not giving in and start trying to break the bamboo with his feet. Then he keeps going on with how to tie it and on and on. The Vanuatu guys watch, smiling. He is suposelly the boss after all. (taking their land, and sending all the money back to Australia. Nothing is put back in.
I meet eddie for kava. But first he has to perform with the kids that he teaches. They will perform 4 custom dances. Meanwhile big band name are playing on stage. We start preparing the kids that are arriving in the museum, along lapita potery, masks, and so on. I become the face and body painter, taking each kid in turn, about 30.