Recently, I had the privilege of attending the 12th Festival of the Pacific Arts (FestPac) in Guam. Similar to the Olympics, FestPac is held every four years in a different host-nation. This year, it was held in Guam, an island in the Mariana Island chain that is home to a diverse group of people, including the proud Chamorro population that is indigenous to these islands. This region is also well-known because of the famous Marianas Trench — the deepest known part of the planet’s oceans.
This two-week festival brought in hundreds of delegates representing 27 island states, as well as thousands of visitors from around the world. However, unlike sporting events such as the Olympics, the Pacific Games, or the Micronesian Games, this festival is one of celebration rather than competition. It is an exposé of culture, art, and pride – a sharing of stories and ideas that ultimately serve to bring stronger cohesion amongst our islands.
In other words, one could say that FestPac serves as a mechanism to shift the Pacific mindset away from being “small-island states” to one “large-ocean nation”.
During the festival, every day is filled with performances, workshops, and cultural demonstrations. Each day was filled with its own stories and lessons. However, the most memorable part for me during my entire time at FestPac was the opening ceremony. This cultural welcome saw a fleet of Micronesian and Chamorro canoes sailing into the Paseo Boat Basin at sunrise. This was a beautiful moment for everyone in attendance, to see a horizon full of voyaging canoes against the orange hue of sunrise. As the canoes sailed in, chants could be heard from the crews aboard each vessel, only to be matched by chants from different communities watching from shore.
Perhaps I’m biased because of my personal (albeit limited) experiences as a voyager, but I couldn’t have fathomed a more beautiful harmony of sights and sounds. I don’t know if ancient Pacific Islanders had ever gathered in such a manner — one where Polynesians, Micronesians, and Melanesians all joined together in songs and chants as one unified family. But looking around me, it is clear that we all share in the collective realization that the massive ocean which separates our islands is also the same one that unites us. To me, this sense of solidarity is the most important part of the Festival of the Pacific Arts. It is also why I cannot wait until 2020, in which Hawai’i will be hosting the next FestPac. By that time, Hōkūle’a will have completed her voyage around the world and will most likely be leading the procession of voyaging canoes onto our Hawaiian shores.
Traveling alone was a life-changing and wonderful experience for me. No, it’s not easy, and, no, it’s not supposed to be entirely safe, but, yes, it’s awesome. Stretching who you are and defining new boundaries are sometimes things that can only be accomplished somewhere utterly new and unfamiliar, and I can say that my experience living in another country on my own really changed a lot of my creative process in addition to my perspectives. Not something a &#a220;l8dy” should do? B’ah. What’s sexier than a well-traveled woman? 😛