Southwest Bay, Malekula

Leaving Epi in calm conditions we spent the night in a small sheltered bay in the Maskelyn Islands where as expected the winds picked up. We left the next morning in blustery conditions to round the point of Southwest Malekula to head into Southwest Bay before the winds get even stronger as forecasted.
We went to shore the following morning to a small village with a number of the other yachties who had arrived in the anchorage. We were shown around the small tidy village—most Vanuatu villages have pretty ornamental shrubs planted around their thatched houses. The houses up here all have woven walls of pandanus leaves in a chequered pattern which I assume is for strength—they expect 5-10 years of life from the house and each family has 3 small houses—one for cooking, one for eating and one for sleeping in.
We found that the festival was two villages over but still in the shelter of Southwest Bay but would start a day late---hmmm we are getting used to that!!!!
Willie the organiser told us that it would be for two days and cost the equivalent of US$25 a day and will include dancing and lunch.
There are many boats here who we have not met before from NZ, England, Austria, USA and of course our token Canadian effort; we were joined by several Peace Corp workers who have been in various villages on the island and wished to see the ceremonies.
Going ashore at 9am we found that the 9am start is also optional and an hour or two later it began with several men clothed (or not) in the “small namba costume”.
The term namba seems to have two explanations neither of which we could confirm—locals will give both. One is when the white people came, the villages were either very small and compact each being independent of the other (small nambas—numbers) or they covered a large area governed by the same chief (large nambas) The other explanation is directly credited to the covering of the penis—small namba people use a leaf of dried fibre wound around the penis and secured to a bark belt whereas the big nambas use large leaves wrapping the penis only and letting everything else “hang loose”.
The kastom ceremony began with men drumming on the tam tams—another bislama word derived from the American tom toms, another legacy of the Second World War.
They are the tallest upright drums in the world and can be up to 12 feet tall and are hit rhythmically with a stick.
The dancers then arrived dressed with elaborate costumes --including the “small namba” covering and a lot of other leaves and greenery attached to their belts. Several had weird colourful head dresses. They prance around making kind of squealy parrot noises. They told us the first dance was about parrots so that was OK but the next dance was meant to be about something else and sounded the same so who knows!! There was also a symbolic ceremony where a Peace Corp worker who has been living there a year was presented a leaf. This means he has earned the right to wear this leaf and dance with the men. The leaves they were are very symbolic and you have to earn the right to wear them.
This was followed by a wonderful lunch the ladies had made. We are getting used to meals where local women get together and spend hours preparing. This one had Western influence as they had stir fried meat and vegs with rice which was preferable to the island lap lap they usually would eat, this was accompanied by grapefruit and paw paw slices.
After lunch they took us on a village tour and a local man demonstrated the sand drawings they are renowned for. This tradition dates back to the time when they had no common language and no written language—bislama came from the white ‘blackbirders’ (slave traders) later.
They would draw pictures on the ground depicting a bird or whatever else they wanted to share which must start and end at the same place and is done with a continuous line. Each pattern is a language and is never changed—we could not easily see what the pictures represented but it is their language. We watched some of the children doing it as well so it appears their traditions are continuing.
The following day was to be the inauguration of two new chiefs to the village--there are several. This happens rarely--the last one here was in 1979 and even many older tribes’ people had never seen it happen.
Pigs have great significance in the culture; to increase your rank (grade taking) you need to kill a pig for each rank. Actually the old main chief had died 90 days previously which meant the men needed to paint white marks on their faces—after the 90 days they will not need to. The next chief who will be his grand son (who appeared to be nearing 40) does not have the necessary grade and will need to take several years of grade taking –ie pig killing—before he becomes the new main chief. Meanwhile all of the lesser chiefs can make decisions for the villages
Firstly the drummers started and then the dancers came out with different headdresses from yesterday--various feathers and things instead. They danced around and then the 2 new chiefs came out and danced around. The parrot noise sounded the same to us but maybe was different to a finer ear??
All of this was very solemn and there seemed quite a while between dances. Meanwhile in the middle to the field where it was being held were 2 pigs each tied by it's front leg to a stake.--they were not very happy and were digging up around where they were--sensing impending doom!!!
The next thing was two of the present chiefs came out and did some speaking --welcoming the new chiefs apparently--and then they took a branch, whacked the back of each new chief and called out their new names--much as a Christian baptism--. The leaves with which they were whacked gives them the right to wear that particular leaf hanging from their belts.
After a while longer the new chiefs came out together dancing around brandishing a long spear--only 1 spear between them. The first new chief then danced around his pig until he felt he had a good angle and speared the pig through its side till it was dead.
Then he gave the 2nd chief the spear and he danced around his pig--his pig however had different ideas and was charging the chief with his leg tied up. The pig gave one last desperate pull and managed to break his tie ---it was so funny--he charged the new chief who leapt out of the way and the pig took off up the hill. He was followed by half of the men in their branch costumes and some yapping dogs who finally managed to corner the pig and bring him back. (It turned out that that pig had managed to escape his pen the previous night so guess he did not want to be part of the historic occasion!!!)
The chief then managed to spear him through the side with the poor pig squealing till he finally died!!!—whew, it was quite a spectacle.
The new chiefs now put their hands into the wound and smeared the blood on a rock which will be placed as a memorial of their inauguration. We came across rocks near older ceremonial sites and they all signified an important event.
They had made a huge bamboo screen which until now had been tabu –symbolised by a stick in the ground with a branch tied to it which means you are forbidden to go there—any sacred or place they do not want you to go is marked this way.
They now started to break down the screen accompanied by more parrot noises and we could see that they had made a huge tower--20-25 feet tall which was made from branches and had coloured decorative symbols all over it--on the top there was a tall decorative colourful pointed structure. This somewhat reminded me of the decorating of our Xmas trees.
The chiefs then climbed up it --one higher than the other showing the difference in status. They then reached inside and pulled out large root vegs--taro, sweet potatoes etc symbolising that they are always responsible to see that the tribe is fed.
After it was all out they cut the pig and portioned the vegs for the adjoining villages to take back to their village to feast on. Only men will be able to eat the ceremonial pig.
We were then able to go and look closer at the tower some of which will be destroyed tomorrow and some will be put in a secret tabu place to appease whichever spirits may be worried.
We were able to buy one of 4 pointy heads about 15 inches tall which had been carved and painted to decorate the tower--it has pigs tusks on it and spikes with chicken feathers.
This was made by a brother of a chief and only he can make this design. Someone could buy the design from him with pigs if he chose to sell it. They are very typical of their art here--we hope that we can get it through various customs agencies before we get it to Salt Spring.
We of course have lots of pics--including a video Ken was shooting as the pig got away!!--I usually carry the camera but had already decided I may have a problem shooting the stabbing of the pig so gave it to him.
Mamu a lovely young woman who had been our guide at the village—chosen by their mastering of English---came aboard our boat. We had mentioned that we would like some fruit astonishing her that such rich yachties would want anything as common and she had brought us lots of paw paws and pamplemousse, We gave her gifts but it is very hard to judge whether it is appropriate as they are very shy and modest and would say they liked it whether they did or not. She later got us bananas and I was tempted to give her more but was reminded by one yachtie that if I did she would need to give me more and we could never leave.
The following day was a trip to another village on a lagoon nearby. Most of the villages are realising they can raise money by entertaining yachties and are ready to jump into action. This village took us on the lagoon and then made another lovely lunch.
For our last day in the area we had set up as a hike into the hills. We had had enough of being spectators and along with Mike and Devala on Sea Rover (British) and Jon a Kiwi on Camissa we hired a guide from the village and he, Simeon and Willie took us on our trek. We hiked up and now realised that the village gardens we assumed were right behind the village were actually 40 minutes or more up the steep terrain. There is a strange land ownership structure so although you live in the village—and anyone can freely move into the village and build a house-- you can only garden in your own land. We felt badly that we had not realised the effort they had gone to when we requested vegetables.
We stopped to give gifts to an old chief who lives up in Simeon’s village. He is in his 90’s and appears to be demented although his wife who looks a similar vintage apparently can understand what is going on. The villagers were very grateful and gave us the now normal drinking coconut which they hack off for us. I love the straw which they make by pulling off a particular leaf and pulling the inner stem from it which is hollow making a great drinking straw.
We continued up the hill at the top of which we stopped to share the lunch we had brought with our two guides and now three extra young boys who had joined us all carrying the obligatory machete. They liked the spam we had brought but disliked the sardines and asked why we would bother to can fish?—strange concept when you live on the sea!!
We then started down only to be met part way down by the old chief’s family who had come up and made a fire and had been cooking us food. We are learning the shy but incredibly generous manner of these people. They had done yams in the fire the way we would do potatoes as well as taken a piece of hollow bamboo which they stuffed with island cabbage (like spinach) and cooked it over the fire. More coconut milk and we were on our way to Simeon’s garden where he reaped us some island cabbage for us to take back wrapping it in a banana leaf and tying with a vine. They use their resources so well and make me feel guilty about the plastic we wrap everything in.
After getting back to the beach it was time to share a cup of kava (you have to down it in one—not my best thing) and go back to the boats to leave the next morning.
Our experience at this village has been wonderful, the inauguration ceremony was an honour to attend and the warm generosity of the people is heart-warming. Makes us realise why we choose to travel this way.