Vai a Heva and the story of Poike

Vai a Heva (Water of Heva) is the name of the monumental sculpture of a face whose open mouth is a natural cavity for collecting rainwater. It is located on a rocky outcrop of Maunga Vai a Heva, one of the three mountains north of the Poike Peninsula. Its name is believed to originate from a story about teachers of Rongo-rongo (a script developed on Rapa Nui), as recounted by Uka Tepano Kaituoe (may he rest in peace) in his manuscripts, which will soon be available for purchase.

“Once, two young brothers, Raki and Mata Nui, went to study Rongo-rongo in Te Tiamo in the north of the island, where six teachers, all brothers, lived. In six months, they learned to read and write well and to recite a Patautau (rhythmic recitation of traditional texts) to perform a Hoko (a warrior dance) for a wooden bird called Piu. As they were leaving, one of them—Raki—killed the teachers, except for Heva, the eldest, who was absent at the time, and Mata Nui took the Piu bird. The next day, the woman who served the teachers arrived with breakfast and found them dead in their beds. She screamed in horror. The neighbors came to comfort her, and upon seeing the dead bodies, they began to investigate. The woman told them that before going to bed, she had served the brothers their meal, and that they had been with two strangers. Everyone said, “They were the ones responsible,” and sent word to the eldest brother. The first thing he did was carve a Moai with the His mouth was open as if he were crying, in honor of his murdered brothers. He named Heva Vai. Then he named everyone at each water well: the second he called Vai U’utu Roroa, the third Vai Taringa Aku-Aku, the fourth Vai Tino He’e, the fifth Vai Angi, and the sixth Vai Uri.

After three months, a local young man went to visit a friend on the Rano Kau volcano, in the south of the island. A month later, he dared to ask about the latest news from the village, and his friend told him that in a week there would be a parade with dances and costumes, and two people would be carrying a wooden bird called Piu. When the day arrived, the young visitor disguised himself and slipped into the crowd to listen to people's conversations and discover the meaning of the dance. With the leaps and bounds of the dance, the stranger moved around unnoticed. On the way back from Vinapu, along Te Kioe Uri, he went ahead and entered a house where he understood the meaning of the celebration. He distanced himself, singing and skipping backward along the same line, until he reached his friend's house. Exhausted, he ate and fell asleep. He awoke when it was already dark and all the revelers were asleep. He got up, said goodbye to his friend, and ran home where they were waiting for him. When he told them that Raki and Mata Nui were responsible for the teachers' deaths, two people came out and ran to Reinga Karo to take revenge. They arrived that very night and killed hundreds of people. Upon their return, everyone congratulated them and celebrated.

After three days, one of the neighbors of the celebrants decided to go and see what had happened to them. It was the fourth day, and he found them all dead, their eyes filled with Veri, the larvae of the fly. They called the neighbors to help bury the dead, and everyone learned of the evil deeds of Raki and Mata Nui. From that moment on, that place was called Mata-Veri.

The author, Uka Tepano Kaituoe, eldest daughter of Esteban Tepano Ika and Emilia Kaituoe, and granddaughter of Juan Tepano, an informant for researchers Metraux and Katherine Routledge, was born in 1929. During her marriage to Gerardo Velasco García-Huidobro, from 1971 until her death in 2004, she recorded in her Manuscripts the teachings and stories she received from her great-grandmother Veriamo, her grandparents Juan Tepano and Engepito, and her father. As was the custom at the time, these stories were repeated to the children during those afternoons spent together after work. The oral tradition of unwritten stories became a cherished practice, cultivated with great care and respect in some families. These 75 handwritten notebooks are the most extensive work in the vernacular that reflects a way of life from bygone eras. The texts were translated by Betty Haoa and edited by Gerardo Velasco.