First Birth Ceremony

Over the weekend, Shirley, one of my co-workers, invited the foreign PICRC crowd to her sister’s first birth ceremony. The first birth ceremony is one of the most important Palauan traditions, and historically served the role of a Western wedding. Tourists usually wouldn’t get to experience this side of Palau, so we were fortunate that Shirley was so inclusive!

Our group of eleven arrived and was seated in what was clearly the “tourist” section. As Shirley’s sister was prepared for her entrance, the women of the family set up intricate floral and palm decorations around the yard and a live singer treated us to Palauan tunes in what turned out to be the most impressive display of vocal and speaker system power and endurance I have ever heard. Women danced around the singer, waving dollar bills that they ceremoniously stuffed in the singer’s cleavage at the end of each song. A sumptuous bento lunch was served, and then Shirley’s sister was unveiled, clothed in her clan’s traditional costume.

PICRC Foreigners (and Friends)

Becca, a lawyer from New Jersey, Katherine, a fellow PICRC intern from Portland, and I pose with palm decorations.

Shirley's sister, in traditional garb and pose, walks on woven palm mats.

From what I understand, the customs vary slightly from clan to clan, but all involve a “hot bath:” the woman is sprayed with boiling water in a private cleansing ritual with the women of her family. To protect her skin, she is bathed in a mixture of oils and herbs, and may only bathe in these oils and boiling water for a certain period leading up to the ceremony: for Shirley’s clan, ten days. The oils turn her skin yellow, and she was radiant in the sun, brightly colored from head to toe. All of the herbs, the plants in her headdress and clothing, and the fruit and floral decorations around the yard are highly specific and symbolic, and the procedure of how to mix them and where to find them is passed down orally through maternal lineages. I’ve heard that there are over 300 plants used in a traditional first birth ceremony—talk about local ecological knowledge! Palau is a matriarchal society, and in this ceremony it was very clear that women have the power. Traditionally, men were not even allowed to come to these ceremonies, but restrictions have become more lax over the years (and the women typically no longer go topless). It is frowned upon if men join in the dancing, however.

Shirley’s sister stood stoically in the middle of the yard as women danced around her, sprinkling her feet with hot water and herbs. Periodically a family member would give her water or a betel nut (a ubiquitous Palauan pastime, more on that later), but she did not alter her pose for the duration of the several-hour ceremony. We were exhausted and sweating profusely seated in the shade—I can’t imagine how strenuous it must have been to stand, arms raised, for so long in the sun. After about an hour, her husband came out with the baby for group pictures with the extended family. More dancing followed, and then she was led back into the house, her sisters placing woven palm mats before her so that her feet would not touch the ground. This marked the opening of the dance floor, and Shirley gave us the green light to add our embarrassing white people moves to the mix. The older Palauan women danced delightedly with us, laughing, and, at the end of the song, brought us up to the singer to deposit our singles.

Shirley (in pink) dances with the women in her family.

Some of the women started dancing with the fruit display; we learned later that this was not tradition but just for fun.

I'm fairly sure the speakers went up to eleven.

Exhausted, we took off after about five hours, but by the looks of things the party was just beginning. My host family tells me that their oldest son and his wife are expecting their first baby in the upcoming months, so I'm hoping to get another first birth ceremony experience before I leave!