Visions & Voices

Kltarreng: Unity in the Pacific

Bars Terra Williams

Bars Terra Williams is an undergraduate student studying English and Pacific Islands Studies at the University of Hawai’i at Mānoa. She is from the Republic of Palau, traces her roots to the states of Aimeliik and Peleliu, and was raised in the hamlet of Bkul A Tiull, Ngerbeched.



The views expressed in this publication are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the policies or positions of the Pacific Islands Development Program or the East-West Center.

Featured photo courtesy Pacific Islands Development Program.

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“This feels like one big family reunion.” A phrase I heard exclaimed constantly over the duration of the 13th Festival of Pacific Arts and Culture (FestPAC) held over the summer of 2024 here in Hawai‘i, and a statement I wholeheartedly agree with. In seeing family members from across the world reunite with warm embraces and complete strangers exchange friendly smiles, there was a strong sense of familial connection that seemed to illuminate the festival village, as well as any space our Pasifika sisters and brothers were in. In order for people to be reunited, they must be united prior to this meeting and, to some extent, must have a longing or desire to be with one another again. I believe this is why FestPAC was especially reminiscent of a family reunion; we, as Pacific Islanders, are deeply connected through our roots in what unites us all, the Pacific Ocean. Unable to quite articulate my thoughts on what this union of diversity looked like, I will quote the words of Epeli Hau‘ofa: “Oceania is vast, Oceania is expanding, Oceania is hospitable and generous, Oceania is humanity rising from the depths of brine and regions of fire deeper still, Oceania is us” (Hau‘ofa 39). The opening ceremony portrayed how as diverse as the Pacific region is, its people are able to unite in a beautiful mix under one roof. As I walked through the Stan Sheriff Center, I was greeted with different tongues that sang joyous echoes, unique cultural dress and adornments that are more precious than gold, and an almost overwhelming spirit of awe, joy, and appreciation that moved me to tears. Now more than ever, it is crucial that Pacific people stay united as one to transcend what is made to separate us, strengthen existing bonds, form new relations, and show solidarity through the struggles.

New Caledonia hale at the 13th Festival of Pacific Arts and Culture. Photograph courtesy of Bars Williams.

People often come together when they share similar values, interests, and beliefs. I spent the first Sunday of the festival at the ecumenical service with many others who shared the same religious beliefs as I, as well as others who perhaps did not, but we united for the sole purpose of worshiping God. My ears were blessed with the opportunity to hear the Lord’s praises in many Pasifika languages, and my eyes were fortunate to see hundreds of people rejoice in thanksgiving. Despite the obvious language barriers and uniqueness of each culture, I felt as though I understood every hymn sung and every prayer proclaimed. Similarly, this sense of Pacific unity transcends any and all obstacles and differences.

A more intentional, often formal, but still genuine way of uniting folks is through networking. This term is often used to describe building professional relations, but I would like to think of it as simply making friends; meeting people who share the same hobbies, interests, and values as you, while also building a new relationship that can be relied on in the future. It was refreshing to hear younger delegates network with the big question: “Do you have Instagram?” As I had my own mini family reunions meeting other Palauans, we always parted with an exchange of Facebook profiles. I met numerous folks who had gone to school with my close relatives, were old friends of my aunties and uncles, and knew classmates from back home; meeting these people was a full-circle moment for me and the most meaningful part of FestPAC. I was incredibly grateful for the opportunity to attend Protecting Oceania 2024—a gathering that further strengthened my passion for Pacific Islands Studies. Over the span of three days, I met professors whose works have greatly contributed to my university studies, poets who have changed my worldviews, educators who also wear the hats of activists and changemakers, and a few peers who reassured me that we, as the youngest in the room, definitely deserved to—and needed to—be there. All of these interactions were so special, building friendships that I trust would stand through the happiest and the most difficult of times.

The love and light that emanate from Pacific unity are what provide hope and faith during times of darkness and challenges to our very existence. FestPAC was a most joyous occasion for unity and reunion, but also a somber time that brought deeper, often avoided issues into conversation. On my initial visit to the festival village, all hales were occupied, except for two: Vanuatu and Kanaky New Caledonia. The two nations had withdrawn from the festival due to economic hardship and civil unrest, respectively. The next day, male leaders from across the Pacific sat cross-legged in a circle under the Kanaky hale. In the following days, more people came to fill the hale, bringing gifts of artwork, flowers, lei, cultural pieces, and their companionship in talanoa and comforting silence. People from across the Pacific came to the hale to show that they stood in solidarity with our Kanaky family who could not be there with us. One of the most impactful moments during this time was meeting a brother and sister from West Papua whose stories tugged at my heart in a way I could not ignore. I had gone from learning about the issue in a classroom to standing in the same room as people who were living it; I realized then the importance of standing in solidarity with our Pasifika people who are fighting battles that have been silenced for too long. The struggles faced by Kanaky, West Papua, Guahan, right here in the illegally-occupied Kingdom of Hawai‘i, and many other Pacific nations should not, are not, and cannot be fought by them alone. It is only when we, as the Pacific, unite as a whole, like how we were at the festival village, that a great change can be made.

Palau delegation at the 13th Festival of Pacific Arts and Culture. Photograph courtesy of Bars Williams.

For the last time until the next FestPAC in four years, the Pacific, in all its diverse beauty, came together under one roof for the closing ceremony. Each nation was recognized and celebrated whilst its flag was flown high and proud. A moment of silence was offered for those who were not able to physically join in this reunion. Signs of protest and solidarity were hung across the room accompanied by songs of love and aloha. The celebration ended with singing, dancing, and a heap of emotions that were quite bittersweet. All that took place at that moment is now a memory, and the 13th FestPAC is now a part of history. I realized that we are a part of what is to become history, the ones who have the power to write what our future generations will learn. The time is now, the place is here, and the people are us. We are the ones who need to act in the present so that we can make a good history for the future. The only way we can do this is by being there for, with, and by each other. We must remain united, as we always have been, and continue to strengthen these relationships. I am eagerly waiting for the next family reunion at the 14th Festival of Pacific Arts and Culture, where I hope to rekindle old friendships, make new ones, and be immersed in all things Pasifika. Until then, let us continue to be one family that stands together, united as one Pacific.

References

Hau‘ofa, Epeli. 2008. “Our Sea of Islands: We are the Ocean,” 27-40, University of Hawai‘i Press.