A Tahitian vacation is not complete without some Polynesian dancing. Manava, our resort on Moorea, had just such a show for us on a Wednesday night. We arrived for the accompanying buffet just before the heavens opened and rain fell in sheets. Those that arrived early, hoping for good outdoor seats, retreated indoors. Luckily, we were inside the splash zone, under cover. Would the show go on? Yes it would. A little warm rain? Not to worry. Staff rolled out some umbrellas to cover the musicians, and our dancers came indoors.
Male Polynesian dancers have to be comfortable with wearing a few strategically placed palm leaves and grass skirts. And trust me, they are. The lead male dancer stomped around in his palm leaves, glowering at spectators and bellowing war chants. Then "warriors" were gathered from the audience, lined up, at least three dozen of them, and taught war chants and gestures. All French and Tahitian. Didn'understand a word, but they took their roles seriously. They participated; they dug into their new roles; they were fierce. It was a delight.
Finally, finally, the rain let up and the dancers finished outside (photo above). After the show, they lined up for pictures with the tourists, we among them. Check out the fierce and elaborate headdresses.
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