Levuka

I was excited to hear, when I first arrived, that there existed the opportunity for us to visit Levuka, since I had planned all along to find some way of visiting the town while I was here in Fiji. We did so, this weekend, and the trip had quite a bit of significance for me as it was a chance for me to experience a place and a history that I'd done quite a bit of research on. It was a special and rare thing, for me to stand at a certain spot just outside the lodge we were staying in, and realise I had seen a photo taken from just that spot, or that I had some idea of the history lying in the layers of next door's backyard. Academic and archaeological, but still an idea.

Beach Street, Levuka - and Kanya and Hannah

Levuka port by night

It made me feel like I had my own particular connection with the town, which is perhaps also related to the more practical nature of the research itself. Last semester I took the 'World Heritage in Asia and the Pacific' class. For the final assignment, we were given the task of writing a (very abbreviated) nomination file for any of the sites on the tentative list. I chose Levuka, wanting to do a site in the Pacific and having already done an assignment on Melaka and Georgetown, Asian historical towns. Little did I know! The assignment was supposed to deal with site description and analysis, a statement of outstanding universal value and justification of selection criteria, as well as a comparative analysis with the region and sites already inscribed on the list. So much of my reading, however, was concentrated on the idea that Levuka did not, necessarily, represent heritage in Fiji the way it should be represented. 

The proposed World Heritage justifications of OUV

In almost everything I read, it was a contested place, one based in European and colonial histories, with more association with multiculturalism, intermarriage and mixed-race children than the rest of Fiji was comfortable laying claim to. The reluctance that Fiji's very first UNESCO World Heritage List nomination be a site that was so contested, representative of such a small section of Fijian society, was a very common one. The government, it seemed, was not particularly interested or invested in such a representation, and so funding was difficult, information hard to access and misunderstandings quiet common in the nomination process.

The first MH in Fiji, now home to the community centre, library and museum

Yet this attitude didn't seem to be reflected in the attitudes of the people I spoke with in Levuka, and that was a point that I remember one author trying to make when I was reading for the assignment. People from Levuka have unstinting pride in their town; Mosi is one such example. The community centre and museum, housed in the historic Morris Hedstrom building, held a great range of local artefacts and history, and told multiple stories. Their pride was also encoded and displayed in the more intangible things, like the song that Mosi sang for us, although he is the last person in Levuka who knows it. This song describes 'the place I love, Fiji', with specific reference to Levuka. The contrast was quite reminiscent of the 'levels' that are found in both Hau'ofa and Teaiwa's articles, and seems to be one of the better illustrations for me, since it's a subject that I have some previous experience with and knowledge of. The government, for example, at the top level, has particular opinions about Levuka as a heritage place. These are, themselves, slightly conflicted, caught between a desire to be represented on the World Heritage List and a desire to have that representation be of a certain type. At the grassroots level, however, the people that live in Levuka appear to have quite clear ideas about their town and its historical significance. For them, Levuka is a place of multivalent history and heritage, a place with many stories and different connections, relevant to everyone in different ways.

The last couple of days have been slightly slow-going at the Arts Council, as I have handed in the second, completed draft of the project proposal on Friday and am waiting to hear about it. The database for the Conservatorium of Music is also finished up, although that took much longer than the proposal I've been working on.While working, however, or during breaks from the database work, I've been paying closer attention to the artwork that adorns any and all available surfaces at the Fiji Arts Council. For the most part, these are all previous winners of the National Fine Art Award, an award from the National Art Exhibition and Awards. It's one of many categories, things I've learnt from the proposal work; other categories include an Indigenous Award, for a Fijian or Rotuman artist, a 3D/sculpture award, and a new Children's Award. The result is that many of the winners are in the FAC offices – and so I'm surrounded by walls of people who all see Fiji differently, who all have different perspectives and perceptions which they then incorporate into their work. It's amazingly diverse, as some of the photos that I've taken demonstrate. They show the range and variations in how different people experience Fiji. Below are only a few of them.

'Dressing the bride'

'Three sister on rest'

Unnamed

Unnamed

Pottery, unnamed portrait

'Market Day'

 

Closer detail of 'Market Day'

The very last painting in particular has given me a great deal of inspiration for my essay, and and idea of writing about bi-cultural, or perhaps multi-cultural spaces. The market scene seems like it might be another space in which Teiwa's idea of kinship might be employed, another way in which meaningful community and individual connections might be forged. This particular concept of kinship, in many ways divergent and removed from my more theoretical (and anthropology based) understanding of 'kinship', has been a difficult thing for me to grasp, understand and see in practice in the world around me. It's difficult, admittedly, because so much of my day is spent in the office, but I suppose the content of this very blog entry indicates that even that can be a source of information and inspiration. With that in mind, I'm beginning to see if looking at the way people interact with each other in public spaces like a marketplace or footpath, or the structures of the markets/footpaths themselves, reflects something about this kind of kinship, this way of establishing mutual and meaningful connections through public space – and popular culture. The loud music that plays from the Hindi-English DVD store across from the FAC, for example, is one example of how public space and popular culture mix here. Furthermore, though less about popular culture, Mosi, our host here, mentioned the way that language is negotiated between Indo-Fijians and i-taukei in public space, dependent on the numbers of people. In Levuka, (which I think I'll have to talk about much more in my next blog) where there are more Fijians than Indians, Indians learn and speak Fijian in shops and on the streets. Although, Levuka probably should be noted as a place with a history that means English, more than Fijian, seems to be the lingua franca. Things are different on the West Coast of Viti Levu however – the place that Teaiwa identified as the 'sugar-cane belt', where the Indo-Fijians are in the majority. There, Mosi said that it's the inverse; it's the indigenous Fijians that learn Hindustani, that use it in shops and on streets.

Language was another one of my interests here, in particular I have become interested in Fijian Hindi and Rotuman. For example, when Mosi mentioned that Fijians learn and speak from Hindi, I wondered what other languages might be spoken in Fiji, and how that plays a role in the cultural landscape here – the appearance of names like Singh told me that not everyone was Hindi-speaking or Hindu adherant. Sikhs, for instance, seem almost invariably to speak Punjabi as a native language, and Ethnologue also lists Gujarati and Tamil, not suprising since the Fiji Museum mentioned that many of the free migrants, after the girmits, were Gujarati or Punjabi. Do they learn Hindi through their schools? Their friends? Or do they only learn Fijian and/or English, and are they linguistically excluded from the more mainstream of Indo-Fijian identity? How do religious differences factor in? I think that, in having so little contact with Indo-Fijian, I've become intensely curious about this other side of Fiji. Likewise Rotuman. I didn't know much about Rotuman language or culture, but Master Masio working with the LHT project gave me some quick language details. He described it as a Polynesian language, and lexically that would seem to be the case, but that seems to be a result of all the cultural contact with Tonga and Samoa. Rotuman has borrowed from those languages much more than Fijian seems to have, and so it looks, on the surface, like a Polynesian language, though it is linguistically grouped with Western Fijian (and by Andy Pawley no less, one of our Pacific Languages guest lecturers). It even sounds like one, as a second result – it has the glottal stops that are so common in Samoan and Tongan yet unheard of in (standard, Bauan, Eastern) Fijian. Admittedly, my source for this is Wikipedia, but the web page looks incredibly detailed and the linguistic evidence makes sense to me – it looks, actually, like it could have been posted as part of the profile project we did in Into to Pacific Languages, which we were encouraged to post to Wikipedia. Yet while Wikipedia calls Rotuman a 'Polynesian influenced culture', Maea mentioned during our dance practices that that's not necessarily the opinion held by all. A Rotuman informant from their project, for instance, was very insistent that Rotuman dance didn't incorporate any of those (less desirable?) elements typical of Polynesian dance, such as hip movements or wiggling and following your hands with your eyes. Perhaps another indication of how different people experience a place or culture, a difference articulated in art or dance, dependent upon the person and their own context. I'm not sure, but I do know that I'm interested in learning more about these other sides of Fiji – if only we had the time!

Contrasts and Consumption

This weekend was, ultimately, a study in contrasts. From the last weekend spent adhering to strict Fijian village protocols to a weekend spent amongst half naked Westerners, it seems impossible to find more divergent experiences in such close quarters. In the immediacy of the relief I will admit to feeling, no longer engaged in an environment where I was forever conscious of the length of a skirt or the relative height of my head, I realise that I didn't question the dynamics of this new environment. At least, not at first. However, it didn't take long for me to find myself blinking owlishly at the Australian surfer, shirtless and with dangerously low, loose pants. By the end of the weekend I felt slightly overwhelmed by the 'Otherness' of the place; this was the Fiji of the Tourist Bureau, the Fiji portrayed in the images of 'We Are Fiji'. Like Bau, this didn't seem like a place or experience that many Fijians would visit or have, although again as a study in contrast, for completely divergent reasons. It didn't seem to bear any relation to the Fiji that I feel I am coming to know, but represented instead the Fiji that my friends know. The Fiji of my weekend was the Fiji of my Aunt's honeymoon, my work mate's alcohol-soaked beach holiday, my travel acquaintance's hurried trip to satisfy her need for wanderlust and the exotic - to a certain extent, it was the Fiji of my dive course, although I felt (perhaps arrogantly and ignorantly) like I had a slightly more meaningful experience in visiting the village of my dive instructor, even if it was only for the rugby. And I can't say that it wasn't valuable; without this weekend, without this stark contrast, I may not have reached quite the same appreciation for the experiences that this trip is affording us. Without something like this, I may never have seen the sides of Fiji that I have seen, and hopefully will continue to see.

This is not to say that we aren't, in some ways, having a particular 'Pacific experience' of our own. There are some forums in which we experience only certain aspects of Fijian culture and society; the workplace is dominated by indigenous Fijians rather than any other ethnic group, and we have enjoyed quite an honoured status as guests at many of the functions we have attended, affording us certain views and informing our perceptions in that way. Yet it's important to remind myself that it's far from a one-way street; our relationship with the wonderful Conservatorium students, for example, is far more that just 'the White consumption of difference' that Teiawa mentioned in the article and that seemed to be the modus operandi this weekend – it feels like a genuine exchange, and I certainly value it in that way.

A (Small?) Working Week in Suva

This week at work has been much busier than the first week with the Fiji Museum. There is still quite a bit of data entry involved in the work that we're doing, as the initial project Jackie and I have been given is building databases.

Jackie hard at work, digitizing student files. Cheerfully!

 I have been given the additional responsibility of putting together a Project Proposal, and it highlights what seem to be one of the key factors of work life in Fiji; under resourcing. The Fiji Museum was so under-resourced that the Conservation Department consisted of two staff members doing the work there in their spare time, when their other responsibilities had been filled. At the Arts Council, it's again a case of being chronically short-staffed, to the point that things like a database of Arts Council members has fallen to the wayside. The funding proposal I'm working on has, as it's main sponsor for the National Art Exhibition and Awards, Foster's Group Pacific Limited. It's an odd partnership, to say the least. Would you ever expect to see Fosters sponsor an equivalent event in Australia? But their sponsorship has meant that the Arts Council has an impressive collection of local artworks, all winners of the National Fine Art Award.

Art and artefact at the Fiji Arts Council - the former made possible by Fosters.

It's an easy thing to see, when put in context like that, the kind of vicious cycle of belittlement that Hau'ofa speaks of. It would be very easy to ascribe to and perpetuate the idea that Fiji is too small, too lacking in skills or resources. When combined with the rather pliable relationship with time that seems to be the norm here, it's not hard to envision how ideas of laziness and inferiority when compared with a Western equivalent might become established or ingrained (with no small help from Westerners themselves, I'm sure). When held in that light, it becomes quite clear quite quickly how important it is that a cycle of belittlement as in Hau'ofa's article is avoided. The staff of the Arts Council knows they're under staffed and under resourced, but it doesn't stop them from pursuing things like the project I'm writing a proposal for – the funding source might seem unorthodox, but the mission is accomplished all the same. By contrast, and it's an important point that Jackie made, the conception of smallness at the Fiji Museum might play a much larger psychological role in their own conception of their capabilities. They think they're too small, too under-funded, too dependent on international aid for things such as display cases or storage, and the result might just be a case of not seeing the forest for the trees. There might be potential for expansion that can't be seen, space to be maximised or reorganised. In the end, it does seem that where there's a will, there's a way.

Representation and Choice

My week with the Fiji Museum has been an interesting one, and a very valuable lesson in the way that 'Fiji Time' or more relaxed attitude can overstep the fine line that it treads between a casual relationship with time and productiveness in the workplace. My week spent cataloguing library books for lack of a supervisor may have been remedied by the simple sharing of information in advance of our coming, so that there was more than one person capable of assigning our project and supervising our placement. It's been a very valuable lesson to learn, along with the idea that initiative may sometimes be necessary in order to discover the true lay of the land here. For example, I'm still not entirely certain what my project will now be, or even where I might end up. Though I knew I would at least start Monday at the Fiji Arts Council, I've heard reports of working with the Conservatorium, ideas that I might be composing songs (something so far outside my comfort zone it can't be chartered) or simply joining an existing group.

The Fiji Museum, however, has also left me with a much greater understanding of the ways in which representation is a conscious choice and how it reflects those aspects of the culture which are desired for public consumption. Though the museum has a large collection of artefacts, only certain ones are placed on display, and together form a selective and selected narrative of Fiji's history. Their collection itself tells a story; much of the collection in storage is culturally Pacific, whether Fijian, Rotuman, ni-Vanuatu or i-Kiribati. Excepting a selection of English colonial textiles, such as a soldier's red coat, those objects from other regions are notable for their indigenous nature. From what I could see, the (spatially separate) Indo-Fijian gallery appears to contains the extent of the collection related to Indian experiences and history in Fiji. There is an effort to illustrate the discrimination faced by Indo-Fijians, but the focus of the collection and the narrative is very clear.

For me, the tutorial discussion this evening illustrated the connections between these reflections on the Fiji Museum and the representation in the music video for We Are Fiji. Whether or not Cattermole's analysis is entirely supported, it is true that the video is quite dominated by images of indigenous Fijian culture, to the extent that there is very little visual representation of Indo-Fijian culture or people, with the notable exception of the sitar - a smaller section of the song than the Fijian hymn singing. In and of itself, that is an interesting statement of divides, given that the Indo-Fijian community appears, by and large, to be non-Christian. There is no representation of the Chinese community, or other Pacific Islanders, such as Banabans. Like the Fiji Museum, the video is selective, not free from agenda given that the video images were provided by the tourist board, and one which prepares a narrative for public and international consumption. It caters to certain expectations – whether the more sensationalist aspects of the old cannibal culture or the romanticised, exotic images of warriors, sand dunes and canoes.

Monday, Orientation Day

Today was orientation day, and we were the guests at a traditional ceremony welcoming us to the vanua. This ceremony involved a formal introduction and acceptance, a kava ceremony, speeches and a meke performance at the end.

Shots from the (very impressive) meke performance

The meke was fantastic, incredibly energetic and entertaining, and the level of effort and dedication required from the Conservatorium students was amazing. Practices are every afternoon, and classes include a range of handicrafts, including masi making and weaving. One of the students mentioned that this is so they are all capable of producing their own costumes, as well as weaving the mats they perform on, which is a really interesting way of preserving the more intangible aspects of heritage and culture. The knowledge that the students must develop in their three years of study is impressive in its scope. Though I'm not going to be involved in the Living Human Treasures project at the Arts Council, I was listening as the group discussed the brief, and this kind of preservation of knowledge and practice seem to be what that project aims to accomplish.

The formal introduction was, we were told, much abbreviated for our sakes. Despite the fact that we were all English speakers (and the guests not Fijian speakers), however, the introduction and acceptance was performed in Fijian. Accepting the welcome and speaking on our behalf was Jeff, a Fijian lecturer at the Conservatorium. We were then welcomed with an elaborate kava ceremony, the kind reserved for high chiefs and distinguished guests. This reminded me of an assignment I did for Introduction to Pacific Languages. It was an analysis of Maori rituals of encounter, a breakdown of the same kind of welcoming ceremony. The article associated with the assignment described the use of English in the ceremony as 'an insult [...] at worst, a foolish mistake at best', and the ceremony was disrupted by the hosts. Though English was used in the speeches, it wasn't in the formal sections of the ceremony, no doubt for the same reason. When the group being welcomed was not Maori or had no Maori speakers, a representative was to be employed, just as Jeff spoke for us today. The Maori welcoming ceremony also had different levels of elaboration depending on the status of the visitors, just as the kava ceremony today. The comparisons between the two are interesting, and though there are definite differences between the form and style of the ceremonies, the similarities were intriguing.

Preparing the kava

Though I have only glanced at Epeli Hau'ofa's 'The Ocean in Us', the content did seem to indicate a discussion of cultural similarities across the Pacific, and was certainly prefaced with a quote of Teresia Teiawa's which encompassed this concept. I'm not sure yet if this is a more general discussion, but after making these (possibly somewhat obscure) connections, it is an area that I will have to further explore after today – starting I think with 'The Ocean in Us', and the Teiawa article the quote was taken from.

Arriving in Fiji and Initial Reflections

I arrived in Fiji four days before the course began, as I was planning to do some diving in Rakiraki beforehand. Getting to Rakiraki requires a bus from Nadi to Lautoka, and then a bus from Lautoka to Rakiraki. The bus was an experience in itself, and took me through towns and villages, along road upgrades funded by Malaysian banks and miles of sugarcane fields, and past an astonishing diversity of religious buildings. Churches from several different Christian faiths stood within village limits, alongside Hindu temples and Mosques. Whether it was the area and the prevalance of sugar plantations, the proportion of Indo-Fijians seemed to far exceed my expectations. They were incredibly visible in the . By contrast, the resort where I was staying was owned by pakeha Kiwis and staffed almost exclusively by i taukei, while the Indo-Fijians were largely cleaners. It was a very interesting introduction to the kind of diversity that Cattermole discusses in her article, with some indication of the socio-economic dimensions that come into play. Interestingly, the role that rugby plays in this cultural melting pot was further highlighted for me in two separate observances. The first was a pick up game that I saw in the village of Rakiraki, where most of the players looked under the age of five. One of the locals I was driving through the village with mentioned that it was one of the first things that children learn, and certainly I don't think I've seen a school ground yet without a rugby field. It's a stark contrast to Australia. Though my school in Sydney was an all-girls school, it was a concrete jungle, and the all-boys school partnered with us was little better. In Fiji, a playing field seems non-negotiable.

The second observance was the attention garnered by the Sevens tournament. This was the only occasion I saw a television turned on at the place I was staying, and there were gatherings in the village to watch the games. The visibility of rugby continued here in Suva; today, we walked past another game in the park as we left the Fiji Museum, and the students with us told us excitedly about Fiji's Sevens win. Later, we walked past a display of seven rugby outfits in the windows of the Tappoo Centre. I think I thought that the Cattermole article might have been exaggerating somewhat, that Fijians probably weren't any more or less rugby crazy than Australians. After the last few days, however, I'm convinced – there was even some discussion about a public holiday being declared following the Sevens win. If only that would happen in Australia, it might have motivated the rugby union team to win the World Cup!