In addition to the Yasur Volcano, Tanna Island is home to the John Frum 'cargo cult'. Legend has it that in the 1930s, an American named John befriended a traditional village and convinced them that the missionaries were wrongly leading them away from their customary life. He taught them that by returning to their 'kastoms' they would eventually be blessed with material goods sent to them from America. In WWII, Vanuatu was a major staging area for the Pacific war. The arrival of 1000's of US troops and their gear (cargo) reinforced the promises of John Frum (John from America). To this day, the religion of this village and region of Tanna is a mix of Christianity, traditional kastoms, and the worship of the return of John Frum. When questioned about how they can still be waiting for his return more than 60 yrs after the war, they reply that Christians have been waiting over 2000 yrs, so what's the big deal?
The Frum village has a large center open area surrounded by family groupings of small huts and buildings. Each morning, the village elders have a ceremony where they pray to the return of John Frum and raise an American flag and a US Navy flag. The symbol of their religion is a red cross – not a crucifix, but a red cross patterned after a medic's cross from WWII. Each Friday night the Frum villagers and many others from the surrounding area assemble for an all night session of dancing and worship. An open sided thatched roof building in the center of the village becomes center stage as groups from each represented village take turns with the men sitting in the center playing guitars and the women sitting around the perimeter singing songs of worship and praise. Other villagers and guests frequently stand outside the hut and dance or groove to the music. These weekly festivities begin at sundown and continue to sunrise. Every 45 minutes an elder pounds a stick on a log to indicate it's time for the next group to move into the center spotlight. To a guest, every song from each group sounds nearly identical. This rotation continues all night.
A number of us from different boats piled into the back of an old pickup truck for the 40 minute crash and bash from our anchorage to the Frum village. By the time we had loaded the yachties, added some local villagers, and stopped at a backpackers' resort for more guests, we had 16 people bouncing along through the night. Our friends on s/y Delos had visited here a month before us and had spent enough time to get to know the villagers. They were told that the single kerosene lamp that lit the festivities used to be an electric light bulb powered by a car battery and charged with a solar charger. Unfortunately, the battery had died and been replaced with the lantern. With a little advance planning and help from our friends on Jackster, we were able to buy a new battery in Fiji and we had it in the back of the pickup with us. Perhaps John Frum could pay a visit bearing gifts frum America?
When we arrived at the village, the singing and dancing were already well underway. We were counseled by our truck driver that this was a religious event and we were told we were welcome to dance, but we should be quiet and respectful of the music. I told the driver what we had for the village and that I would like to present it to Chief Issac personally. We found the chief and gave him the gift. Issac wasn't much for small talk and he caried the battery into the music hut and placed it at the base of the main support pole for all to see. No one made any effort to hook it up to the light and it just sat there like an offering on an alter.
We spent a couple hours listening and dancing to the constantly repeating music. It truly was mystical. I stepped back from the hut and heard the music mixed with the crash of the surf on one end of the village and the rumble and orange glow of the Yasur volcano high above us on the other end. I asked some of the villagers what the words and meaning of the songs were. They told me that each song was a prayer "that the Americans would soon return". There are not many places in the world we have heard that!
Just before we left, I asked to say good by to Chief Issac. Apparently, he had gotten tired and gone to bed, but his son came over to thank us for the battery and see us off. He also decided it would be a good time to hook the battery to the single light bulb. After 3 guys tried to wrap a couple of bare wires around the terminals there was no light. The new battery was not charged. Shit, time to go. Still no John Frum.
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