Our visit to Easter Island took place right in the middle of their summer, which runs from December to March. The weather was mostly warm and brilliantly sunny, and though there was rain at the end of our time there, we got a few rainbows out of it, which was nice. But more importantly, we were also there in the middle of the annual Tapati festival, which this year ran from February 1st through the 15th.

I wasn’t sure what to expect. I’ve attended exhibitions of local culture before, by Māori in New Zealand and by Aboriginal Australians, and while I felt lucky to have had those glimpses of culture, and though the performers may have been talented, they seemed in a “let’s do our best to entertain and educate the tourists” mode. So they seemed more rote and instructional than anything alive.

But the Tapati festival was very different. It’s something done by the locals for the locals, and the tourists who happen to be there are completely incidental to the process. The festival has been going on for nearly 50 years, since before tourism was really a thing, and would continue to do so whether we were there or not. We were just privileged witnesses, and not really the intended audience.

Each day we were there, there were morning, afternoon, and evening competitions on which teams and individuals would complete to earn points so that their chosen candidate would be crowned Queen of Tapati. Much like the Olympics, a panel of experts would judge each performance or presentation on a 10-point scale. (We never saw anyone earn anything lower than an 8.)

I did not at any time feel as if I was at a performance. It felt like a family gathering, with audience members calling out to their friends on stage, singing along to the familiar (to them) songs, and occasionally dancing the same routines as those competing, sometimes equally as precise as the competitors. It had the warmth of a high school play crossed with a small town football game, but with an even bigger heart. I was allowed to feel as if I was among friends, even though I was not. I felt amazingly connected.

On Monday night, outdoors at Hanga Vare-Vare, we saw competitors display traditional clothing …

… as well as dance the Rapa Nui Tango.

Tuesday was the original song competition (I was happy to see a ukulele) …

… as well as the adult group dance, in which two teams, each hundreds strong, faced off.

Wednesday we saw another traditional clothing competition …

… this time involving shells.

There was a lot more each night than I’ve shared above. Each nightly session began at 9:45 (or attempted to; they generally didn’t get going until around 10:00 or 10:15) and lasted as late as 2:15 a.m. the nights we were there.

Sadly, it rained Thursday afternoon and on and off into the evening, forcing a cancellation of that night’s competition, which saddened us, as that was our originally scheduled final night on Easter Island, and we wanted one more amazing memory. Luckily, as I told you earlier, our Friday afternoon flight home was cancelled because a passenger on the lone inbound plane had a heart attack, forcing it back to Santiago, which meant we were given the gift of an additional night, paid for by LAN Airlines. (Thank you, LAN!) This meant we’d have another chance to experience the Tapati. And it proved to be the best night of all.

Friday night’s group singing competition took place on Easter Island’s main street, Atamu Tekena, which was shut down to traffic for the event. Two teams of singers and dancers faced off in the middle of the street, and the emcee, James Grant-Peterkin, announced they they’d go back and forth performing traditional songs either until 3:30 a.m. or until one team repeated a song. Since we were to be picked up at our hotel at 3:30 a.m. for our new flight home, and had already learned that the Tapati always ran long, Irene and I had earlier decided that we wouldn’t sleep at all that night, and had taken short naps to be ready. We planned to stay as long as we could.

Which meant that for four hours, we swayed and stamped and bounced and hummed with the crowd as the two teams took turns singing and dancing to those traditional songs, some of which were by then already familiar to us. I was heartened to see that even though the points handed out at the end of the night would help determine who became the Queen of Tapati, neither team was cutthroat. They laughed and sang along as the other side performed, making the hand gestures appropriate to each song. Sometimes one of the dancers would cross the street to pull a member of the competing team up to join in the dancing.

We at no time felt as if any of this was for show. This was a joyous street party, and we were lucky to be there.

The exchange of songs lasted until 2:15 or so, when voting took place to determine the winning team. After a enjoying few celebratory songs from the winners, we stumbled back to our hotel, showered, changed, and began our long trip home, infected with joy, feeling enveloped by the Easter Island spirit.

Was it an illusion? I don’t care. It was still beautiful.

I get the impression that if you visit Easter Island the rest of the year, you still can attend more formal shows that are put on to expose tourists to the Rapa Nui traditions and culture. But I suspect (thought I could be way off) that those are more commercial, and wouldn’t convey the same sense of community as the Tapati festival. And I doubt they’d result in you feeling each night as if you’d just attended the most marvelous party.

If it’s at all possible, when you do plan your visit to Easter Island, aim for those first two weeks of February when the Tapati festival is held. That way, in addition to ogling moai, you’ll be able to get as close to the Rapa Nui people and their culture at any tourist can.