Cultural Legends Bring Theory Closer to Home
by
Mark Wojcik

I worked last year in the Republic of Palau, a small Pacific island nation that gained its independence on October 1, 1994.

Using one of the legends of Palau, I created mock trials for high school students. The legend was of Surech and Tulei, which the Palauans view as their equivalent of Romeo and Juliet.

Surech was a beautiful woman. Tulei, her boyfriend, was the handsome nephew of the great chief Mad ra Ngebuked. Hearing Tulei speak of Surech's beauty, the chief said "Bring me her face so I can see it." Tulei was horrified by his uncle's request. For Tulei, these words had three possible interpretatations. First, the chief could have wanted simply to meet the beautiful Surech. This, however, seemed too easy. Second, the chief might have wanted to see Surech in case he wanted her for himself. The chief had the right to have the most beautiful woman; if he demanded, Tulei would have to give her up. Third, the chief might have wanted Tulei to cut off Surech's head so he could see only "her face." Tulei knew the chief kept a collection of the heads of his enemies.

Tulei took Surech to a remote island, where he remained silent for several days. Surech asked Tulei to explain his strange silence. He told Surech of his dilemma: The chief either wanted her head or wanted to steal her from him. Surech asked sorrowfully, "How long have you been keeping this to yourself?" She sadly began to weave a basket. When Surech finished, she bent over the basket, and Tulei used his machete to cut off her head. Tulei took the basket to the chief, who then banished Tulei from the village.

We used a courtroom at the Palau Supreme Court to put Tulei on trial for the murder of Surech. The Palauan students assumed the roles of prosecutors, defense attorneys, witnesses, judges, and court clerks. The classes discussed whether Tulei was acting on the chief's orders (the Nuremberg defense), whether by weaving the basket Surech consented to be killed (and whether a person can "consent" to be killed), whether the possibility that the chief would steal Surech would justify her murder, and whether Tulei had any factual defenses to the crime. In presenting their cases, the students were especially proud of their use of scientific evidence and lawyering techniques they learned from broadcasts of the O.J. Simpson trial on Palauan television.

The exercise was important for these students. Because judicial proceedings in Palau are conducted in English rather than Palauan, the students gained familiarity with the procedures, language, and translation process used in their own courts. They transcended the language barrier that bars access to the courts. (The situation is similar to that in Haiti, where the courts use French rather than Haitian Creole.) If enough Palauan students become interested in law, the need for American lawyers may someday subside as Palauan lawyers and judges bring the Palauan language into Palauan courts. The alternative would be to lose the rich Palauan language.

Also, the students gained familiarity with the court proceedings and with career opportunities they may not have considered previously in this country, which has no law school. And the students learned a Palauan legend that, sadly, few of them knew. The tradition of teaching legends to children may fail when there are distractions such as broadcasts of foreign murder trials on television.

Teaching a Palauan legend to Palauan students made me realize that here in the United States there must be hundreds of local legends of which I am unaware and which might provide useful classroom hypotheticals while preserving the important tradition of oral history.