Home / Malampa culture
Nestled in the South Pacific, Vanuatu’s Malampa Province is a tapestry of vibrant traditions, untouched landscapes, and communities deeply connected to their ancestral roots. While the world grapples with climate change, globalization, and cultural erosion, Malampa’s people offer a compelling narrative of resilience and adaptation. Their way of life—steeped in kastom (custom)—is a living testament to the power of cultural preservation in the face of modern challenges.
In Malampa, time moves differently. The day begins with the sound of waves lapping against the shores of Ambrym, Malakula, and Paama—the province’s three main islands. Fishing, farming, and storytelling are not just activities; they are threads woven into the fabric of identity. The nakamal, a traditional meeting place, remains the epicenter of community decisions, where chiefs and elders debate under the shade of banyan trees.
What sets Malampa apart is its unwavering commitment to kastom. Unlike urban centers where Western influence dominates, here, rituals like the Rom dance (a mesmerizing fire dance from Ambrym) or the intricate sand drawings of Malakula are not performances for tourists but sacred practices passed down through generations.
Vanuatu is on the frontline of climate change, and Malampa is no exception. Cyclones batter the islands with increasing ferocity, while rising sea levels swallow coastal villages. For a culture deeply tied to the land and sea, this isn’t just an environmental crisis—it’s a cultural emergency.
In 2023, Cyclone Judy displaced hundreds in Malampa, destroying nakamals and washing away ancestral gardens. Yet, the response was telling: communities rebuilt using traditional techniques, blending modern materials with age-old wisdom. The nasara (ceremonial ground) might now include corrugated iron roofs, but the spirit of collective labor (kastom wok) remains unchanged.
Yams, taro, and coconuts are staples in Malampa, but erratic weather patterns threaten these crops. Instead of relying on imported goods, locals are reviving drought-resistant varieties and kastom farming methods. The tabu system—a traditional rotational planting practice—is being reintroduced to combat soil depletion. It’s a quiet revolution, one that merges ancestral knowledge with contemporary science.
Smartphones and social media have reached even the remotest villages in Malampa. While connectivity brings opportunities (e.g., selling handicrafts online), it also risks diluting oral traditions. Elders worry that younger generations, glued to TikTok, might forget the chants and stories that define their heritage.
Yet, there’s a counter-movement. Apps like Kastom Stori are being developed to digitize oral histories in Bislama and local languages. The goal isn’t to resist technology but to harness it as a tool for preservation.
Pre-pandemic, Vanuatu welcomed over 300,000 tourists annually. Malampa’s kastom villages became bucket-list destinations, but overcrowding and cultural commodification followed. Post-COVID, the province is rethinking tourism. Initiatives like "Kastom Homestays"—where visitors live with families and participate in daily life—are replacing exploitative "cultural shows." The message is clear: respect kastom, or don’t come.
In Malampa, women are the backbone of cultural continuity. From weaving pandanus mats to leading kastom ceremonies like the Naleng (a coming-of-age ritual), their roles are expanding. With NGOs supporting female-led kastom schools, young girls now learn traditional dances alongside math—a fusion of old and new.
The sound of slit drums (tamtams) still echoes across Malampa, but modern artists are infusing these rhythms with reggae and hip-hop. Bands like Tusker sing in Bislama about climate justice and kastom pride, proving that tradition isn’t static—it evolves without losing its soul.
Malampa’s story isn’t just about Vanuatu; it’s a microcosm of global struggles. In an era of homogenization, this tiny province shows that cultural resilience isn’t about rejecting change but navigating it on one’s own terms. Whether facing cyclones or Instagram, the people of Malampa remind us: the past and future can coexist—if we listen to the wisdom of the kastom.