Noa Noa | Page 5

But the rays of the moon play through the bamboo reeds, standing
equidistant from each other before my hut, and reach even to my bed.
And these regular intervals of light suggest a musical instrument to
me--the reed-pipe of the ancients, which was familiar to the Maori, and
is called vivo by them. The moon and the bamboo reeds made it
assume an exaggerated form--an instrument that remained silent

throughout the day, but that at night by grace of the moon calls forth in
the memory of the dreamer well-loved melodies. Under this music I fell
asleep.
Between me and the sky there was nothing except the high frail roof of
pandanus leaves, where the lizards have their nests.
I am far, far away from the prisons that European houses are.
A Maori hut does not separate man from life, from space, from the
infinite...
In the meantime I felt myself very lonely here.
The inhabitants of the district and I mutually watched each other, and
the distance between us remained the same.
By the second day I had exhausted my provisions. What to do? I had
imagined that with money I would be able to find all that was necessary
for life. I was deceived. Once beyond the threshold of the city, we must
turn to Nature in order to live. She is rich, she is generous, she refuses
to no one who will ask his share of her treasures of which she has
inexhaustible reserves in the trees, in the mountains, in the sea. But one
must know how to climb the tall trees, how to go into the mountains, in
order to return weighed down with heavy booty. One must know how
to catch fish, and how to dive to tear loose the shellfish so firmly
attached to stones at the bottom of the sea.--One must know how, one
must be able to do things.
Here was I, a civilized man, distinctly inferior in these things to the
savages. I envied them. I looked at their happy, peaceful life round
about me, making no further effort than was essential for their daily
needs, without the least care about money. To whom were they to sell,
when the gifts of Nature were within the reach of every one?
There I was sitting with empty stomach on the threshold of my hut,
sadly considering my state, and thinking of the unforeseen, perhaps
insurmountable, obstacles which Nature has created for her protection

and placed between herself and him who comes from a civilized world,
when I saw a native gesticulating and calling out something to me. The
expressive gestures interpreted the words, and I understood that my
neighbor was inviting me to dinner. With a shake of the head I declined.
Then I reentered my hut, ashamed, I believe equally because charity
had been offered me, and because I had refused it.
A few minutes later a little girl without saying anything left some
cooked vegetables in front of my door, and also fruit wrapped neatly in
green freshly picked leaves. I was hungry, and likewise without a word
I accepted the gift.
A little later, the man passed in front of my hut, and, smiling, but
without stopping, said in a questioning tone,
"Païa?"
I divined, "Are you contented?"
This was the beginning of a reciprocal understanding between the
savages and myself.
"Savages!" This word came involuntarily to my lips when I looked at
these black beings with their cannibal-like teeth. However, I already
had a glimpse of their genuine, their strange grace ... I remembered the
little brown head with the placid eyes cast to the ground, which from
under the clusters of large giromon leaves watched me one morning
without my knowing it, and fled when my glance met hers...
As they were to me, so was I to them, an object for observation, a cause
of astonishment--one to whom everything was new, one who was
ignorant of everything. For I knew neither their language, nor their
customs, not even the simplest, most necessary manipulations. As each
one of them was a savage to me, so was I a savage to each one of them.
And which of us two was wrong?
I tried to work, making all kinds of notes and sketches.

But the landscape with its violent, pure colors dazzled and blinded me.
I was always uncertain; I was seeking, seeking...
In the meantime, it was so simple to paint things as I saw them; to put
without special calculation a red close to a blue. Golden figures in the
brooks and on the seashore enchanted me. Why did I hesitate to put all
this glory of the sun on my canvas?
Oh! the old European traditions! The timidities of expression of
degenerate races!
In order to familiarize