“Aloha!” boomed an unfamiliar voice while fierce orange flames pierced into the air. As the opening boat appeared from around the bend, I noticed women with vivid green skirts flowing around as if they were wild daisies dancing around in the wind. The front of the raft had a piece of chestnut wood on it, along with “Hawaii” inscribed on it. At this moment, I had realized that the celebration of being a Polynesian had begun and I was more than ready to begin the journey to experience first hand a different culture. The Polynesian celebration made me realize that people of any ethnicity and background can come together to experience and enjoy other cultures with a plethora of people.
The first part of the Polynesian pride festivities includes the introduction of the Polynesians from the Polynesian Triangle, a region of the Pacific Ocean with three islands as the triangle points. Rather than having a dull entrance, each of the three islands came out on boats illuminating radiant colors. Since the celebration was held in Hawaii, the glistening ruby red Hawaiian boat went first. I have never really experienced a party about being a Polynesian, so I had no clue what to expect. Soon enough, a man of a colossal size with lots of tattoos started chanting and dancing in only a miniscule leaf skirt wrapped around his waist. He started moving his hips and dancing to the song he was singing while my eyes bulged out like a pufferfish because I have never seen a grown man do that in anywhere in America. As the float drifted along in front of me, I saw that, along with the Hawaiian man doing a cultural, rambunctious dance, there were also some women doing a tranquil, traditional hula dance. Seeing the people perform their cultural dances made me realize how unique American culture is because we don’t really have a meaningful dance like the Polynesians do, we just have dances like the “Wobble”. The next Polynesian group to come out were those native to Easter Island. Since Easter Island is known for their Moai statues, the massive gray figures with a variety of countenance, they put a small-scale replica of one on their boat. A different broad, bronze man stood before the statue and started chanting to it in his native language while the women aboard the raft began to perform a traditional dance. The most memorable boat in the entire parade was New Zealand’s because it was embellished with indigenous, vivid flowers. I can clearly remember seeing flowers of sunshine gold, soft baby pink, and precious periwinkle outlining the raft. The presentation made the watercraft pop out among the rest because everybody else’s was only decorated with some green leaves and statues of different Polynesian gods that each main island recognizes. Besides the Polynesian Triangle islanders being present at the celebration, other islanders of the Pacific showed up to the luau before the final party showcase.
I have never been to a luau prior to our family vacation to Hawaii, and I only expected to see a pale, pink pig on some leaves with a huge, juicy red apple hanging out of its mouth and somebody softly playing the ukulele. Oh no, I completely thought wrong. Before my family and I even walked into the outdoor area, I could hear drums beating loudly and a voice echoing off the palm trees. As we took our seats, the announcer introduced the people on stage as natives from Fiji. Most of the Fijians were in typical tropical clothes, but the only color they had on was teal. Apparently, the teal color represented their crystal clear waters back home and the white flowers in the girls’ hair represented the white sandy beaches. The Fijians were going to show us a special dance until the roasting pig in the pit of rocks, coals, and leaves were fully cooked. A part of their performance was doing a dance with fire using torches and even their hands! Once dinner was served and the buffet started, a different native group took the stage- the people of Tahiti. While guests ate dinner, the Tahitian women, who wore cantaloupe colored dresses, did a very unique dance with the men. This dance was so beautifully choreographed that I could tell that the story was about a young couple fighting for their love because neither one of the parents approved of it. Before I knew it, I had finished my hog roast and poi, a paste from the root of the taro plant, just in time to see the last Pacific Islanders. The final native tropics from the Pacific Islands to be at the celebration were those drenched in shamrock green, the people of Tonga. Although I thought it would get boring watching yet another dance, I was proved wrong as the lively people moved their hips faster than Elvis, and then sat in a circle. During this time, I thought they were going to tell ancient stories from their land; however, they ended up pulling sticks out of their clothes and began tapping them on the floor. Suddenly, sticks were flying through the crisp air and some of them even caught on fire! I’m guessing that the fire was supposed to be on the sticks since nobody on stage freaked out, but the audience did. Then some members of the audience were called on stage to help out with the final event, and I was one of those “lucky” winners.