Bastille Day In Tahiti

Old-time Native Songs and Dances Revived For Colourful July 14 Celebrations

By “Tenarunga”

OASTILLE DAY, for Tahitians, centres mainly about the grassy square at Papeete, bearing the ancient name, Tarahoi. It is there the singing and dancing contests have been staged since the observance of Bastille Day was instituted in the Islands.

Long before that time, indeed, in the days of the Pomare dynasty, Tarahoi was the scene of royal celebrations, when

high chiefs from near and far came with their retinues of singers and dancers and orators to pay honour to their sovereign; for it was then part of the palace grounds.

The stately ceremonies of July 14 at Government House, at the Cenotaph, at the saluting of the flag, are the office of the Governor, assisted by his magis trates, military, and naval officers and native high chiefs. They are solemn and impressive. The populace, viewing in reverent silence, are spectators. The celebrations at Tarahoi, on the contrary, are spontaneous, joyous; a festival tribute by the native people to the great National Day.

Weeks before the event, the distant boom of drums echoing among the hills and the faint sound of singing voices through the quiet of the night are the first heralds of the coming fete. The district singing and dancing companies are preparing.

This is the signal for the beginning of many other activities:The assembling and fashioning of materials for costumes of the olden time—derived from the inner bark of the Purao tree, the bamboo, the aeho reed , and the heart of the young coconut tree. The last, the source of the beautiful, snow-white tenuous tissue named revareva, is used to adorn the garlands of our native women. In every household sewing machines are humming and feminine fingers are weaving intricate plaits; for everyone must have bright, new dresses and. a fresh aeho hat to wear on fete days.

About Tarahoi, carpenters have erected an ample theatre of benches for spectators. The road leading to the beach is flanked by booths, their up rights swathed in plaited coconut fronds. On the Beach Road itself are other booths—larger in size, having floors for dancing and wide spaces for tables —all decorated within and without by festoons of tropical greenery.

At the quay is moored a handsome cruiser of the French navy, gleaming white and gay with multicoloured bunt ing; and generally in the harbour is one of the British warships—a welcome guest at this greatest of all days.

The flag of France is everywhere—at the masthead at Government House; in clusters at gateways; draped on building fronts and at Tarahoi, all around the square.

On July 13, the drums move to Papeete. All day the delegations from the outer districts arrive. Flag-bearers and drums in the lead, they march through the streets to their quarters in the town. At evening is the first great event. Every point which overlooks

Tarahoi is packed with people. The sound of drums is all about, and their rhythm intensifies the excitement quiver ing in the air. Presently the name of a district is called and its himene com pany marches into the square. All are dressed in white—the women crowned with white garlands and fluttering plumes of revareva. When they are seated in concentric half-circles on the green lawn the voice of the leader sounds the pitch and the chorus sings a short invocation to the Metua (mother) France. A pause. Again the voice of the leader; then the full chorus wearing the polyphonic fabric of the gorgeous old music of the Islands.

The words are an ancient legend of the district, in the almost-forgotten old tongue The committee of judges awards the prizes in accordance with the excellence of the poetry, as well as the quality of the singing.

The voices die away. A moment of silence: then a roar of applause. If the singing has been particularly good there are cries of Tapiti! Tapiti! (Encore!

Encore!). But time and the number of

contestants do not permit encores. The name of another district is called and an otea (dance) company enters the arena. They are dressed in costumes of the ancient times, fashioned by more (the inner bark of the purao ) dyed a golden colour, and ornaments with red rosettes. Their head coverings, of the same material, are crowns of nodding plumes. It is a fine sight, as those handsome, picturesque figures stand in perfect alignment to salute the Governor.

“Tavana rahi , ia ora no.” shouts the leader. The drums roar. A salute to the Committee. Again the drums. A third salutation to the assembly. Then the dance begins with graceful bodies swaying in rhythm, weaving and inter weaving in patterns of ever-changing form.

Suddenly the drums cease. There is the sound of low-toned instruments. dancers have formed a circ’e. crouching and beating the ground with the palms of their hands in a strange rhythm. It is the paoa —one of the most ancient dances of old Tahiti. The leader springs within the circle, chanting a rapid measure timed to the beating, while a graceful girl sways in the ori dance beside him.

The crowds cheer — “Tapiti. Tapiti."

This time an encore is allowed. But there are other companies waiting and again comes the call for another district himene. A new choir files in upon the lawn, and so district follows district, until the last has finished.

This year’s display was the finest and most spectacular Bastille Day celebra tion in many years. It was conceived and carried out by the natives them selves to do honour to the new Gover nor, Monsieur de Gery. The other features of the 1937 fete —the horse races, the water sports, the joyous parties in the refreshment booths, the balls, the dinners, etc., were mere apepndages. The real thing was Tarahoi, for it is the celebrations at Tarahoi which make Bastille Day Fete at Tahiti unique in all the world.