PLATE XXI
A MEKEO IBITOE
MASKED MAN, KAIVAKUKU, OF WAIMA, MEKEO DISTRICT
When a boy is about twelve years of age, the family council decides that he must be ibitoe, that is, of an age fit to marry, and he is conducted to the marea of the ibitoes, or club-house of the young men. Thenceforth commences for him a life of unalloyed pleasure; nothing has he to do but to eat, drink, and be merry. But it is all harmless pleasure; intoxicant there is none. The only serious thing he has to do is to make his drum. Several lads will go into the jungle without saying anything to their friends, and will remain there, it may be a week or a month, until each has made his drum. A straight branch is selected and cut to the requisite size; this is next scraped with shells till the orthodox shape is arrived at; finally, the cavity is carefully and laboriously burnt out.
During this period the lads are taboo (rove in Roro, ngope in Mekeo)—they must have no intercourse with any man; the friend who brings them food must surreptitiously hide it in a secret spot previously arranged upon. Should they be seen by a woman or girl the drum would have to be destroyed, otherwise it would be certain to split, and would sound like an old cracked pot.
There are also restrictions as to food. If they eat fish, a fishbone will prick them, and the skin of the drum will burst; if red bananas are eaten, they will be choked, and the drum will have a dull sound; if they eat grated coconut, the white ants will destroy the body of the drum; should they cook food in an ordinary spherical earthen pot instead of a small high one, they will grow fat, and will not be able to dance, and the girls will mock them and call out, “Your stomach is big; it is a pot.” Finally, they must never touch fresh water, but they may drink coconut milk, or the water which occurs abundantly in the stem of a banana; should they inadvertently touch water with feet, hands, or lips before the drum is completely hollowed out, they break it, crying, “I have touched water, my firebrand is extinguished, and I can never hollow out my drum.” These prohibitions are interesting examples of symbolic magic: the sight of a woman destroys the tone of the drum, contact with water extinguishes the fire, a fishbone tears the tympanum, so the sorcerer informs them; everyone says so, no one has the temerity to prove it, but no one dares to deny it.
When a boy has been declared ibitoe he is told, “Now you are free look out for a woman and marry as soon as possible.” At first the young man does not think about such things. He enjoys his absolute independence; he goes, comes, plays the fool as he pleases; he dances for the sake of dancing; decorates himself for his own delectation; but gradually other thoughts arise. The girls of his own age also grow up; his parents begin to talk about the girls, about the presents and marriage and so forth. Such suggestions soon have the natural result.
The lad becomes rove. It is difficult to find a proper English equivalent for this term: “holy” or “sacred” originally expressed this idea, now other meanings have been read into them; it is perhaps best to simply appropriate the Polynesian term “taboo.” He ornaments himself more extravagantly, and tight laces till human nature can stand no more; he plays sweet, melancholy airs on his flute in a corner of the village, and the girls creep out to listen to the ravishing music.
The young men waylay the girls and offer presents. The weak damsels may cry out and run to their parents, the lusty will beat and scratch the adventurous youth, who never dares to resist lest he draw upon himself her parents’ wrath. Should fair means fail, recourse is had to the sorcerer, and he generally brings the girl to reason.
It is against custom in the Mekeo district for a young man to make love to a girl of his own village, but each village is affiliated to another from which brides should be taken. In the Roro language the relationship between two villages is called aruabira, “part of our blood,” and in the Mekeo tongue, ufapie, auai. The former word, according to Father Guis, means “the other side of the sky,” in other words, as they would say, “The ufapie are our friends down below; they are like our own souls (auai); we are blood brothers.” This friendship is carried out much further; for example, the people of Veifaa keep pigs and rear dogs for the village of Amoamo, their ufapie, and vice versâ. When there is a death at Veifaa the Amoamo people come and feast reciprocally. When the time comes to go out of mourning the ufapie is invited. They come, dance, eat, perform certain ceremonies, and the period of mourning is over.