The lure of gold bought the first foreigners into the Highlands of Papua New Guinea. In 1933, searching for the elusive metal, Australian miners Mick Leahy and his brother Dan became the first white men to enter the Waghi ­ "the greatest valley of them all." The first aircraft landed there the same year. When the pilot, a large man well over six feet tall, clad in flying suit, helmet and goggles emerged from the plane, more than fifty awestruck Highlanders sought to feel his genitals to assure themselves that he was indeed human.

Isolated in montane valleys, the Highlanders had developed, over thousands of years, an elaborate and sophisticated agriculture that sustained a population of perhaps a quarter of a million people. Prior to those first contacts, no one ­ certainly not the early European traders and planters, miners and missionaries, administrators and adventurers who had settled much of the coastal region of this huge island ­ had guessed of their existence.

In 1975, a scant forty years later, Papua New Guinea - consisting of the eastern half of New Guinea and a number of smaller islands including Bougainville and the Bismarck Archipelago ­ became independent (the territories had been administered by Australia). The cool Highlands valleys became economically vital to the country and now support one of the world¹s richest coffee crops. Highlanders have proved themselves to be capable and astute businessmen, and the per capita income is generally higher here than elsewhere in the country.

However, the Highlanders are volatile people, and their centuries-old tradition of intertribal rivalry still continues. Jocularly, though appropriately, tribal battles are often referred to as "Highlands Football" ­ a reflection of the vigour with which the "sport" is pursued. Motivation for fighting stems from a retributive system inherent in the culture. If a clansman is killed or injured, whether by accident or intent, his clan is obliged to take revenge against the clan responsible for the death or injury. Villages are burned, crops are razed and fierce skirmishes with bow and arrow ensue. In an effort to put an end to these intertribal clashes, the Australian administration of the 1950s instituted an annual Highlands Show. By persuading many diverse ethnic groups to gather in one place at the same time, the various clans could meet old enemies under peaceful circumstances, resulting in mutual appreciation and understanding of differing cultures and traditions. By all accounts, the initial Highlands Shows were huge successes. Early descriptions tell of the ground literally shaking beneath the stamp of thousands of feet.

Nowadays the shows have become an institution. Old hands insist there has been a diminution in scale and quality of performance in recent years and attribute that to the inevitable increasing Westernization of Papua New Guinea. Notwithstanding, the shows have attracted many visitors to the Highlands towns of Goroka and Mount Hagen for more than thirty years. Staged over a weekend, usually in July or August, the shows were traditionally held in even-numbered years in Goroka, odd-numbered years in Mount Hagen. In 1987, Mount Hagen decided to make its show an annual event. That the shows are the biggest single tourist enticement to Papua New Guinea is beyond doubt. For sheer spectacle and color they are probably unrivalled anywhere else in the world.

The be-all and end-all of the Highlands Shows are the sing-sing groups. ³Sing-sing² is the generic pidgin term for a dance performance which usually includes chanting or acoustical accompaniment such as bamboo flutes, lizardskin kundu drums, hand-clapping or foot-stamping. A performance is determined by a clan¹s or tribe¹s many social events. It may celebrate victory over an enemy, or it may be part of mourning for a departed relative; it may be integral to an initiation rite, or the celebration of a moka or wealth-exchange ceremony. Sing-sings may follow a successful hunting or fishing foray, the return of long-departed clansmen or they may take place during compensation or ³bride price² payments between clans. A sing-sing may tell of heroic deeds past; it may poke fun at rivals or the performers themselves. Or a sing-sing can be staged for prize money, as it is during the Highlands Shows ­ and the rewards offered are not insubstantial; prizes up to as much as A$25,000 are paid to the winners.

The shows are not restricted to performances by Highlanders only. Representative groups appear from all over Papua New Guinea. Some arrive by aircraft, most by road and those from the more remote areas will undertake a walk of several days to reach the show venue. Both the number of groups and the number of individuals in a group vary from year to year. Some sing-sing groups are made up of a mere four or five performers; others may consist of forty or fifty. Some years a hundred groups have participated; others, only a little more than twenty.

High scores are given not just for the quality of body decoration, but also the quality of the dance. Simple marching or stamping is not enough; dances must exhibit style and vigor. The most recent Highlands Shows have seen the appearance of non-traditional sing-sing groups. Terming themselves ³drama² groups, they represent a radical, contemporary style of dance and body decoration. No allowance is made for these groups in the judging ­ the best they can hope for is a consolation prize.

If the sing-sing groups make the Highlands Show, then bilas makes the sing-sing groups. Bilas, in a word, is decoration. Although bilas can refer to inanimate objects, it normally means decoration of the human body with natural materials and colorful pigments.

There are more than seven hundred distinct ethnic language groups in Papua New Guinea. The art of body decoration is correspondingly varied. Bilas can only be understood within its social and cultural contexts. It is easy to use words like ³bizarre² or macabre² to describe bilas, to forget that the practitioners of this art do not see themselves as other cultures may do. In broad terms, bilas conveys both individual identity and a powerful sense of kinship with a clan or tribe. Overall, it is a highly ritualized art, passed down through many generations and used according to strict social convention. It is also mutable, constantly refined in subtle ways to mirror an individual¹s personality. It contains elements of both the spirit and the natural world, and is pleasing to both the wearer and the beholder.

Feathers, particularly in the Highlands, form a major part of body decoration. Those of birds of paradise and parrots ­ generally individual feathers, though sometimes whole skins ­ are most commonly used to form the elaborate headdresses that are so much a part of any sing-sing. Headbands of snakeskin and the strung-together wing cases of brilliant green scarab beetles are worn. Pig tusks and the quills from the large flightless cassowary adorn pierced nasal septa. Ornaments fashioned from dog and pig teeth, strings of cowrie shells, crescents cut from the gold-lip pearl shell (the latter also a form of wealth exchange) are all common elements of body art.

The skins of cuscus, a cat-sized New Guinea marsupial, are used as headbands, caps or capes worn by women. Flowers, mosses and seeds are incorporated. Bark, leaves, grasses and reeds can be worn as is or further worked into aprons or skirts. Large, ornate wigs made from human hair are an exclusively male decoration in parts of the Highlands. The Huli people of the Southern Highlands are known particularly for their fine wigs, which are usually enhanced by borders of bright yellow everlasting daisies. Such wigs are always made by skilled craftsmen following strictly established rituals.

Pigments used for face and body painting traditionally come from clays, charcoal and lime or chalk. Tree oils or pig fat are often mixed into the pigments to create a sheen. The use of a particular color may be determined by gender. Black, for example, is a common base for the face paint of men but is rarely used by women. Colors and designs are never used merely to create an effect; these, too, have ritual and social significance and are applied according to well-established tradition.

Masks are not commonly used in the Highlands, though they may be a part of bilas in some lowland regions and generally represent spirit figures. Face-painting could be regarded as a mask in that it effectively disguises identity, an important feature for any "good" bilas. Store-bought pigments are now widely used, both for sing-sings and everyday use. Brilliant reds, yellows, blues and whites provide the palette for both sexes. Likewise, artists¹ brushes are replacing the traditional hibiscus twig to apply the delicate finish to face painting. The effects are stunning. While judges allow the use of non-natural pigments at the Highlands Shows, groups using man-made materials such as plastic, tinfoil and Styrofoam are penalized. Performers also lose points for sporting items such as sunglasses and digital watches.

Jack Kil of Tambul in the western Highlands emphasizes that bilas is an individual expression. He is one of those who feels the shows have become more theatrical than traditional. He points out, for example, that at the Highlands Shows, bilas is judged as a group and thus much of the significance is lost. Like many Highlanders, Kil is also somewhat cynical regarding the bilas of coastal sing-sing groups. "Their dances and songs may be truly traditional," he explains, "but their bilas is not ­ they simply throw it away after each performance. We keep ours as treasured possessions." Bilas is often handed down from father to son and from mother to daughter; depending on the care taken, a feather headdress may last for twenty-five years or longer. The replacement value of a good headdress and associated bilas may be anywhere from $500 to $1000 ­ a definite incentive to take special pains in storing the bilas between sing-sings.

In the real village sing-sings, bilas is often judged by elders from a related clan. Kil says, "No matter how much care you take in preparing your bilas, your face paint; no matter how long you spend in front of your mirror; no matter how smart you think you are ­ the old men will always see you, and judge you, as inferior to how you see yourself."

Some argue the Highlands Shows have been commercialized to the point where they no longer maintain their cultural integrity. To be sure, in recent years the shows have become tourist-oriented. A carnival atmosphere has evolved, reinforced by the proliferation of peripheral activities and entertainments. Outside the sports arenas where the shows take place, a multitude of stalls offer everything from local rock bands to fast foods and drinks, souvenir t-shirts and sun visors, archery contests and samples of agricultural products. There may be hot-air balloon rides and skydivers, colored smoke pluming behind them, drifting down into the arena to the delight of the crowd. The local police forces frequently use the Shows as a venue to put on a show of their own; demonstrating their firefighting proficiency and the fearlessness of their police dogs who leap through flaming hoops. But all this is really just so much sideshow and cannot detract from the real event.

However, the final degradation of bilas must surely be the painting of tourists¹ faces with traditional designs at the Highlands Shows; there are always a few visitors who insist on having their faces "customised." Still, to balance this viewpoint, bilas and dance are not static art forms. By their very nature they are dynamic, for they express personal taste. Likewise, though the raison d¹être for the bilas and dance may also change, the end result remains the same ­ the communication of spirit, emotion and personality.