Festival of Pacific Arts, day 6

Saturday was my last day to rove in the Festival Village, having more conversations with local artisans at work in the delegate countries' houses. One I was especially interested in was the country of Nauru. In their stage performance, a group had performed a set of string figures to accompany a traditional story. For example, in the story when a fisherman casts a net, the performers make the string figure of a fishing net slipping back and forth between their hands. I've only once seen anything like this in Papua New Guinea--when I was leading a music workshop with the Gizrra people, on the south coast of PNG (Western Province). They'd told me that people in the nearby Torres Strait also do the string figure stories. It was something that really intrigued me, and I mean to get back to the Gizrra and learn more about it. So when I saw a similar performance from the Nauru group, I was really excited. In the Nauru house in the Village, the delegates were the friendliest of any that I have met at the Festival, and very willing to demonstrate the string figures so I could see them close-up (it was harder to see when it was performed on the stage). I learned from the people that in Nauru each clan owns a particular artistic form. One clan is associated with the string figures, another clan does the Frigatebird Dance, and so on. If you're born into the clan that does the string figures, it's expected that you'll learn to do them, and the clans might not want to teach their arts to people from other clans.

Young and old work together

Males and females can all participate

Look closely at this one. The girl in the middle is a part of two different string figures!

The Nauruans told me that they've been learning new figures from delegates from some of the other countries here. Even though I've only seen this once in PNG, it is clearly a thriving tradition elsewhere throughout the Pacific.

 --------------------------------------------------------------------

Joel and Esekiel, from a local church

Is there a Christian presence at the Festival? In the Languages of the Pacific exhibit we talk about church engagement for community development and Bible translation, but there are some other Christian organizations at work here, too. Yesterday I talked with two members of a Honiara church who are handing out tracts about salvation to Festival-goers. Also, there are some churches running booths in the Festival Village. One church's booth advertises "Free Water," an excellent attraction on these hot Honiara days. Another church is operating a food stall, selling full meals to attendees. I'm glad that the local church has taken up the challenge of service in this major event.

However, I do wish that I saw more engagement of Christianity with the traditional arts on display here. I long to see a truly full-bodied indigenized Christianity. Instead, it seems there is a still a significant gap between the indigenous (traditional) and the Christian (modern). People have little problem mixing the traditional and other aspects of the modern (e.g., Australian aborigines in traditional dress dancing to "Singin' in the Rain" and Bollywood dance music), and the number of contemporary performances (reggae, contemporary dance, even a set of Pacific heavy metal bands) is on the rise on the Festival stages. The spiritual world is frequently referenced (the spirits who bring good luck to fisherman, spirits who give victory in war, the spirit of the Pacific Ocean). But why so little deep interaction between cultural traditions and Christianity? In many ways it seems to be kept at arm's length: the Western religion, acceptable when it stays in its place.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Last night the main stage saw performances from Nauru, Australian Aborigines, New Zealand, Fiji, and Vanuatu, but the real showstopper was the fire-dancers from Samoa. Each dancer holds one or two sticks, about 3-4 feet long, each one aflame at one or both ends. The sticks are twirled, swung, and tossed during the dance, to spectacular effect: