Memories of War: Micronesians in the Pacific War

Chapter 14. “The Great Airplane”

228 Chapter 14 “THE GREAT AIRPLANE” We end this book with the full text of a dance song composed on Fais Island shortly after the war. The song is revealing because it represents the maintenance of an acutely local, but also an increasingly globalized, Micronesian identity. This dance song covers the entire span of Fais Islanders’ wartime experiences, both on their home island and on nearby Yap, where they were relocated during the war. It treats the end of the Japanese civilian administration and the military occupation of Fais, and continues through the invasion by American forces at the end of the war. The song was collected and translated by anthropologist Don Rubinstein, who also provides explanations and background that help us appreciate it.1 The song is entitled “Waayel” (Airplane) and is in the form of a type of dance called badug. (The song has two versions, “The Great Airplane” and “The Smaller Airplane.”) Badug dances are performed at celebrations marking Fais peoples’ return to the island or the arrival of newcomers, at times of harvest, or at other calendrical celebrations. It was sung on Fais as recently as July 2000 to celebrate the return of high school and college students for summer vacation. Although composed soon after the war, “Waayel”—like all the war memories we’ve discussed—continues as a living memory, helping new generations of Micronesians make sense of their lives. “Waayel” was composed by Halamar, a man from Limatayfoy house compound in Faliyow village, who was born about 1885. Halamar left Fais during the German colonial era to work aboard German and Japanese commercial vessels. He returned to Fais two decades later, just before the outbreak of the war. Seven other men and women from Faliyow village were involved in com- “the great airplane” 229 U.S. Marine autographs a thousand-pound bomb on an F4U at Falalop Island, Ulithi. The plane is bound for Yap. August 1945. (U.S. Navy photo, National Archives photo no. 347493) posing the song—Lugal, Fasug, Ilechig, Mwaliy, Fichesey, Marulamar, and Utwel. Several other islanders made requests and offered suggestions to this group of composers. Rubinstein writes that the song “captures the complex mixture of humor, irony, anger, shock and fear that characterizes Fais memories of the war and its surrounding events.” He believes that several of the “more worldly and informed observations” in the song probably reflect Halamar’s experiences and that the inclusion of English loanwords, at a time when Fais Islanders were generally unfamiliar with English, likely gave the song a sophisticated tone. The song also includes borrowed words from Japanese, Satawalese, Woleaian, and Yapese. Once the verbal composition was completed, dance movements were added, and the entire composition was taught to the men and women who would perform the song (commonly restricted to those who are members of the village of the composers). 230 chapter 14 According to Rubinstein, “A prominent theme in the song is the contrast between the security and isolation of the home island, the danger and strangeness of incoming events.” As you read it, and refer to the accompanying notes, you will find that many themes discussed in earlier chapters are reflected here. It is easy to see why this song continues to speak to Fais people about their past and their future. The Great Airplane Halamar, and others from Faliyow village on Fais, Yap (Collected, recorded, and annotated by Don Rubinstein, n.d.) 1. So, clap, and a clap! Clap! Clap! Yuu, Oh, upon our island we were living;2 [r1]3 and then a great shock befell us for then came a time of change set in motion from America, a time that saw our liberation, a time gods brought us liberation. And our faith will return to our Father who art in heaven with the gods, who gave us the crucifix we wear as our maramar [floral head garland]. 2. Clap! Clap! Clap! And so it came to pass4 this time of difficulty. [r2] A time the outsiders ushered us into and we were greatly shocked, unsettled. We were sick at heart; our boys who’d been close by us were now so far apart. We were sick at heart. 3. Clap! Again! Clap and up it goes! Hello! Hello, hello, hello! Feefee, feefee no theh! [r2] Upon the lone island we were living and then it came upon us, [r2] “the...