Culture club
27 Mar 2015
Tribal culture and village customs are still alive and well in the South Pacific islands of Vanuatu. Fortunately, these days, so are the visitors.
They call it the Land of Smiles, but this friendly pacific paradise wasn’t always such a happy hideaway. In the not-so-distant past, a smile could land you the unenviable title of Guest of Honour at the dinner table – as in slow roasted and served up with Riverfern salad.
“Back then, we didn’t smile because we were hungry,” explains Coblan, our animated warrior host in Vanuatu. “A smile meant you had a full belly and so you were likely to be eaten.”
Hunger was indeed a driving force behind Ni-Vanuatu’s cannibalistic past. Contrary to first assumptions, much of the islands’ primary produce – including bananas, taro and coconuts – is not endemic. Even the prized pig is not indigenous. These came later as Melanesian and Polynesian settlers immigrated to the islands.
Today, the lush lands abound with tropical fruits and leafy vegetables. Pineapples and paw paw grow rampant through the jungle, roadside stalls overflow with excess produce from home gardens and stern signs warn alfresco diners ‘beware of falling mangoes’.
“Today we smile because we have food in the kitchen,” says Coblan, with a broad grin on his face.
Despite cannibalism being relegated to the history pages – most anthropologists agree the last Kakae Man (or victim of cannibalism) went into the big Nambas ground oven in 1969 – the country is still profoundly traditional, with 80 per cent of people living in thatched-hut villages and some villages existing exactly as their ancestors did some 200 years ago.
“We can’t drive cars and our electricity is firewood,” says Coblan.
Doin’ it for the kids
In North Afate, we drive through Emua Village and pull up in the playground of Emua Community Kindy, where we are greeted by school chairman, Kalsong Manau Gershom. It’s a big title for a little school: a corrugated iron shed serves as the one and only classroom and the playground consists of three brightly painted tyres, a large, fallen tree trunk and some monkey bars.
Inside, we are greeted by the shy smiles of 27 kids seated on grass mats strewn across the concrete floor. Inhibitions soon dissolve, however as their teacher, Manau’s wife Lucy, instructs them to stand and prepare for their first performance. A chorus of not-so-little voices belt out a rendition of Watermelon – a poem about fruit – followed by a melodic version of Jesus gives us paw paw.
This is the village’s only kindy. It caters for three to six-year-olds and its only financial support comes from the children’s parents, who pay 2000 vatu (about AU$23) per student per term. Despite the obvious lack of school supplies, you've never seen a happier group of little ones.
Outside, the kids play happily, as Manau speaks of his desire to provide them with desks and chairs. In the school’s 22-year history, students have only ever had grass mats to work from.
Our Vanuatu trip has shown us many spectacular landmarks: the white sands and turquoise seas of Champagne Beach are spectacular; the Riri River and Matevulu Blue Holes are beyond postcard-perfect. But the children of Emua Community Kindy were a definite highlight of our time in the Land of Smiles.
The writer was a guest of Trade Travel, which includes the Emua Community Kindy as a permanent fixture on its itinerary. For more information, visit: tradetravel.com
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