Toka

9/27/07- Yesterday I hopped on a truck and headed down to the southern part of the island. The Nekowiar dance (commonly referred to as the Toka) was currently taking place, and I just couldn’t miss it. The dance is the largest custom festival in all of Vanuatu, and it only happens every few years. This festival is a symbol of alliance between different tribal groups and the more one gives, the larger status they acquire.
The ride there had its thrills. Ten of us were piled into the truck and heading up a very steep muddy road. Ten of us in the truck wasn’t unusual, in fact, it was less people than we normally would fit in. But the edge of the road (for the lack of a better term) was bordering a rather large cliff. As the truck slid sideways, trying to climb up the road, I sat on the edge of the back, ready to jump off incase the truck plummeted. Good thing it didn’t, the people actually in the cab wouldn’t have had too much luck getting out in time. We all had a good laugh about it once we had made it. We stopped close to the top of the hill at a small village, and walked the rest of the way to the nakamal, where the dance was taking place. As we arrived, a group of men were just finishing their performance of chanting, singing, and stomping as the sun began to set. That was alright with me though. The dancing had already been going for a couple of days; they’ve got to take a break sometime. I hung out with some fellow volunteers to kill the time, and then we heard the sound of women yelling and beating their woven baskets in unison. We headed back towards the nakamal, but with so many people there to watch the Toka, it was difficult to see. The local boys had made small platforms up in the trees though, and it seemed like a good opportunity for a view. After asking around, I was given permission to walk inside the bamboo fence surrounding the nakamal and climb a banyon tree. The platform was out on a limb not near the trunk, so I reluctantly tight rope walked down a branch to a woven bamboo platform. The risk was definately worth the view though.
Looking overhead, I could see multiple groups of women, each representing a village. They all wore colorful grass skirts, flowers, and had their faces elaborately painted. Each group was performing different version of a dance called napen napen, beating woven pandanus leaf baskets like drums. Around each group, men ran and jumped around. These men were "security". They had to dance around the women to protect them, because during Toka, a man can do whatever he wants to a women and not be held accountable for it. The dancing continued into the night, with the men hopping around the women the whole time. The intensity of the dancing only increased as the night went on. I sat watching, trying to take in the surreals sites of one of the last great custom festivals in the South Pacific. The crowds of people surrounding the nakamal slowly decreased as the night went on as they headed to make-shift shelters to get a few hours of sleep. I, however, was not going to miss a moment. I sat up in that tree until 2 in the morning, before coming down to grab a bushel of bananas, which I immediately brought back up with me in the tree. At 3 in the morning, I heard the sound of Bubu shells blowing, meaning the real Toka dancing was drawing nearer. Just after 3, the first group of men came into the nakamal together, surrounding a pole they were holding called the kerriya. The kerriya was lowered, and then the dancing began, representing scenes of daily life. Some men were stomping, some had sticks to make rythym with, and others performed more elaborate dances on the outskirts of the group. One man made a mistake while running and dancing, colliding with another man. He was knocked down to the ground, and eventually carried away with more than likely some broken ribs. Up until that moment, I didn't know Tanna men could be hurt. I mean even the Mamas here would put men to shame in America with their toughness. Regardless, the dancing went on. A little before 5 the sun began to come up. I was thankful for that, because I had not been able to capture photos and videos of this amazing performance that I had been watching for the last 10 hours. As one group of men finished their Toka dance, a new group would come into the nakamal. The crowd of spectators began to grow again, and more men started climbing the trees. With more than 10 men on the small platform that I called home for the night, I could feel the branches underneath starting to bend. I took the cue and headed down to solid ground to see the few other volunteers that had came with me. They had given up in the middle of the night and left to sleep a few hours at a small village before returning. I told them I was ready to go home and sleep. 7 in the morning never felt so late before. We left, but the Toka continued, I just couldn't make it any longer. This time we got 15 men into the truck. Half of us had to push the truck to get it started and then jump in. We creeped back down the steep hills, which was just as scary as going up them. We made it safely to the bottom though, before the truck stalled, and we were forced to push it again. After a few stalls we made it back though, and it was time for sleep. I could still hear the chanting in my head as I drifted off to sleep.
(Hopefully I will get my Toka pictures and videos sent home and put on here in the next 2-3 weeks. Patience everyone, this is island time.)

A day at the garden

9/15/07-Saturday is not a day of resting but a day of working in the garden. All of that free food has to have some cost. I left with the entire family around 7, with tools and pots in hand. After crossing the stream, Katin, Jebi, and Naloma (my youngest sister) split from the others and headed off in search of brasin, or what you may know as the really big grub that live in decaying logs. I had been asking to see them, so we were going to find some before heading to the garden to meet the others. Katin found the right kind of log where they stay, he started chopping the log and pulling them out. They were gigantic. We had found three or four of them, but he just kept going. Then we had close to 20 of them. We also found some that had started to change from a grub into a beetle, and we also found some fully developed beetles in the logs too. One beetle had to be four or five inches long, I couldn’t believe the size of it! I was in bug heaven, holding the largest beetle I’d ever seen, until Katin handed me the next one. In the end, we had to have found close to 50 of them, which we put into bamboo, so we could eat them later of course. The four of us headed to one of my papa’s gardens to cut some sugarcane, island cabbage, and papaya, before making our way to my sister Marie’s garden, where the rest of my family went to work. After a long and at times steep walk, we came to the opening. Bob had already started plowing with something resembling a pick axe. I asked to help, he said no, but I insisted. They like to shelter me from dirty or physical work for whatever reason. He gave in and let me start plowing the ground. I plowed until my hands were torn with blisters until giving up. To occupy my time I started trying to climb a papaya tree. I had seen Jebi and countless other kids do it. The problem is, the tree doesn’t have branches, but just goes straight up like a light pole. It really is amazing to see them climb, like when they go straight up a coconut tree 40 feet in the air. After my second try though, I was able to get half way up. After practicing my climbing skills, it was time to eat some Tanna soup (boiled tarot or yam with lettuce and some kind of meat like chicken or pig). Everything we needed for eating was found in the garden, except for the pots and chicken that was carried to the garden with bound legs. To go along with the soup was the grubs and beetles. I was obviously a little apprehensive about eating giant squishy grubs, but I am making an effort to try everything their culture entails. I bit off the rear of the grub first, pulling out its digestion tract and throwing that aside at least. The rest went into my mouth, except for the head, which was also discarded. I can’t describe the taste or texture. I will say it wasn’t my favorite thing I’ve ever tasted, but it wasn’t all that bad so I ate three more. After I had my fill of grubs, I asked where the giant walking stick was the sister Naloma had found earlier. My sister took the giant walking stick (around a foot long) and threw it on the fire. After it was thoroughly browned, I ate him too. At least the walking stick was crunchy. It tasted like roasted yam to me, so it wasn’t so bad. With the walking stick finished, I turned to the fully developed beetles that were now finished roasting. They tasted the same as the grubs, but they too were a little crunchier. I ripped the wings off first, ate its abdomen, and then its thorax. The thorax must be really good for you. There are a lot of very strong flight muscles in it, especially with a beetle that large. It almost had a meat like texture, but not quite the taste. I was pretty full of bugs by this point, but my sister Marie came up to me with a bowl full of Tanna soup, except this time, the meat they used in it was flying fox. I was so full I couldn’t eat the soup, but I couldn’t turn down the flying fox meat. I had heard it was good, and I was not disappointed. Hopefully my slingshot on the way here will help me eat plenty more. With my stomach full and plenty of energy, I started practicing my climbing again on bigger trees, and I was able to climb up 20 feet rather easily. I then moved to a coconut tree, but since its trunk was wider, it was much harder to climb. I’m hoping with a little practice every week, I will soon be able to scale up a coconut tree for a refreshing drink instead of searching for a long stick to knock one down with. After wearing myself out on trees on went and helped my sister start preparing laplap by opening up coconuts to be used to scratching to get their milk. They make it look so easy, but it is taking me some time to get a good grip on that talent. Once all of the coconuts had been opened, I snacked on some sugarcane, papaya, a type of bean, and a nut that sort of taste like coconut but is only the size of an almond. These foods are more typical of what I eat, not grubs, walking sticks, and cats, so don’t you guys worry too much. We’ll eat normal things when you come. By this point, work on the garden was wrapping up. We piled up mounds of dirt and planted yam inside of them, and we also planted corn in between the mounds of dirt. The work on the garden was finally finished. I killed time trying my hand at throwing simple spears made out of sticks for fun until the laplap was ready. We ate quickly and then it was time to head back home, nearly 12 hours since we had left that morning. It was dark by the time we got back, but I grabbed my headlamp and headed down to the stream to swim. There are some very big spiders that sit at the water’s edge at night, but they were too quick for me. I tried catching some because I am told that you can eat them too, but that will have to wait until another day.