‘ILUVATU: AN EXPLORATORY STUDY OF CU’U INDIGENOUS KNOWLEDGE AND IMPLICATIONS FOR FIJIAN EDUCATION

by

Sereima Volivoli Naisilisili

A thesis submitted in fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy

Copyright © 2012 by Sereima Volivoli Naisilisili

School of Education Faculty of Arts and Law

The University of the South Pacific March, 2012

DECLARATION

Statement by Author

I, Sereima Volivoli Naisilisili, declare that this thesis is my own work and that, to the best of my knowledge, it contains no material previously published, or substantially overlapping with material submitted for the award of any other degree at any institution, except where due acknowledgement is made in the text.

Signature……………………………. Date ………………………….

Name: Sereima Volivoli Naisilisili

Student ID : S84087000

Statement by Supervisor

The research in this thesis was performed under my supervision and to my knowledge is the sole work of Sereima Volivoli Naisilisili.

Signature: …………………………… Date: ………………………

Name: …………………………………………

Designation……………………………………

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DEDICATION

those nurturing days i treasure like gold they offer peace when life was low

and i did not know the intellectual challenges

of life's woes but in Jesus' name i am made whole and now i know

how to make something out of nothing

This thesis is dedicated to the memory of my dear parents Vereniki Voro and Atelina Meke, both from the vanua (tribe) of Cu’u

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Any major undertaking such as this thesis, can never be claimed to be the sole effort of the author. It is always the ‘unseen’, the ‘people behind the scene’ that matter most. Many such people willingly offered their assistance in one way or another during the course of my study and this thesis cannot go into print without acknowledging them. I would like to acknowledge the wisdom, intellect and expert guidance provided to me by my supervisors. I count myself fortunate to have worked with two supervisors who allowed me to be ‘myself’ and to wonder ‘naturally’ as I wrote my thesis. I want to extend my sincere thanks and gratitude to my Principal Supervisor, Professor Konai Helu Thaman. Thank you for your insight that helped me shape this thesis and also your patience in reading through my drafts and helping me make sense of my writing. I appreciate your deep sense of balance and dignity that pushed me on to the end. My sincere thanks and gratitude also goes to my Associate Supervisor, Associate Professor Unaisi Nabobo-Baba. Thank you for instilling in me the confidence that I could do it, right from the start and you never wavered even when I thought otherwise. You kept me motivated and focused throughout the PhD process. In addition, I appreciate your open heart and selfless attitude that directed and empowered me throughout the study. For both of you Konai and Una, your models of supervision are so difficult to emulate. This thesis would not have materialized without the generous sponsorship given to me by the Faculty of Arts and Law for providing me a place as a Graduate Assistant in the School of Education. In particular I acknowledge the kind heart of the Dean, Dr Kedrayate for allowing me a ‘space’ when I most needed it. I am also indebted to the Head of School, Dr Akhilanand Sharma for facilitating my study needs and the Post Graduate Committee for providing the funds for my fieldwork. I also acknowledge the academic ‘scaffolding’ role provided by my family members. Professor Tupeni Baba, thank you for helping me settle with my research question and focus of study. I am glad I took your advice and moved on with this topic. Akanisi Tarabe and Mere Tora, thank you for sparing time to listen to my weird ideas and help me to unpack issues at brain storming sessions. I also appreciate your editorial skills that helped with editing at the early stage of my writing. I learnt how to write from then on. Akanisi thank you for taking the time to collect archival data for me in the initial phase of my study. This thesis is a ‘family pack’ and I am indebted to all of you for life. I would also like to acknowledge the tremendous support provided by my relatives, the people of Cu’u. For those of you I interviewed, and those I simply talked to everyday, I am indebted to all of you. Thank you for sharing your knowledge with me. In addition, I would like to acknowledge the generous support of the Tui Cu’u, Epi Voro for receiving me in your vanua. This thesis is the manifestation of your kindness and support. I am also indebted to the Masi ni Vanua (chiefs of the Mataqali), Savenaca Raise of Muanaica’e, Joseva Wasenavanua of ‘Oroisavu’a and Koresi Vocea of Udu; you welcomed me with open arms to live with your people during the period of research – thank you. I also wish to express my appreciation to my relatives who provided me a ‘home’ during my seven months of fieldwork. In Waini’a, thank you Ruci and Saula for sharing your home with me. In Nagasauva, thank you Disau, Tui and Lena for billeting your Nau. In Yasawa, I appreciate the kindness and hospitality shared by Reponi and Kesa. Also Epi, Soba, Saiasi and Jone for sharing your ‘tu galala’ home in Cu’u

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whenever I wanted to spend time with you. For all these families, you gave me first class treatment and I am indebted to you for ever. I would like to acknowledge the Ministry of Education for approving me access to the two schools in the area. I am indebted to the Head Teachers and staff of Waini’a District School and Vatuvula District School. In Waini’a thank you Mrs Alanieta Vuinubu, Master Sakiusa, Ms Ruci and Ms Iniasi for your help. In Vatuvula, thank you Master Livai, Ms Lanieta and Ms Rosa for accommodating me. I cannot overlook the tremendous support provided by Junior Seveci, Vereniki Tora, Toga Ravasua and Epeli Tuiqalau. You are endowed with rare skills, the ability to transcribe in the Cu’u dialect - thank you. In addition, my daughter Mere Naisilisili - you turned ideas into graphics and I appreciate your support all along. My sons Junior and Manasa, thank you for your moral support and understanding. My husband Seveci Naisilisili, I am humbled as I reflect on the amount of sacrifice you risked to see me through this journey. I appreciate your unwavering support – thank you. Last but not the least, I would like to acknowledge God Almighty, for allowing such great people to come my way and I know that whatever they have done for me, they have done also for God, and “their labour in the Lord is not in vain”, as in 1Corinthians 15: 58.

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ABSTRACT

The issues of relevance for formal education in Fiji has become most pressing today as

critics interrogate a system that continues to push out an alarming number of students

each year. Such a concern has intensified as the ‘faulty’ system (through schooling),

becomes a vital engagement for every child reaching six years of age and is expected to

remain in the system for the next twelve years of his/her life. Despite attempts by the

government to curb the educational dilemma, indigenous Fijians continue to struggle in

schools and eventually dropout of the system as a result. This thesis advocates for the

inclusion of Indigenous Knowledge and ways of learning in Fiji schools in order to

make learning more relevant, contextualised and ‘democratic’. Hence, the study

addresses the central question:

What is regarded as important knowledge in an indigenous Fijian community and how can this valued knowledge be included in the content and pedagogies of schools?

To answer the above question, this study took a critical ethnographic approach to a

study of Cu’u knowledge in an indigenous community in the northern part of Fiji. The

study allowed me to use the ‘Iluvatu Research Framework, that respected the

indigenous vanua ways and ethics. ‘Iluvatu, a special mat that is closely associated with

Cu’u culture and people, was used as a metaphor for the principles and values that

provided the foundation of the (Cu’u) culture.

The ‘Iluvatu Research Framework, a derivative of the Fijian Vanua Research

Framework developed by Nabobo-Baba (2008) was used to connect the researcher to

the web of relationships within the Cu’u culture during the research process. The

approach recognized the indigenous people as holders of knowledge and therefore

treated them as knowers and participants of research. This reflected the Pacific

Research protocols which treat the indigenous persons as participants rather than

“objects” of the research (Thaman 2010b).

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The use of an indigenous framework resulted in the gathering of authentic data which

was analysed and validated by the owners of information. The data was found to be

rooted in an inseparable interrelationship between the vuravura (territory), the social

sphere where relational knowledge was vital and the spiritual sphere of knowledge.

These were also the spheres that made up an ‘Ai Cu’u (a person from Cu’u) and defined

his/her notion of important knowledge. The study also showed that a learning

approach that neglected any of these (three) spheres of knowledge would be

meaningless to, and different from, the perspectives of the indigenous learner. This

disconnectedness may be the main factor in the continuing struggles of many

indigenous Fijian learners in the formal educational system.

Finally, the use of an indigenous approach to gather and document indigenous

knowledge was an attempt to decolonize research methods and allow indigenous people

a space in which to talk about their knowledge in their own language and take

ownership of such knowledge. The study was therefore a way of centering IK and

acknowledging indigenous people as owners of that knowledge. The implications of the

findings of the study for curriculum and instructions in Fijian schools are also

considered.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS Dedication…………………………………………………………………………….i Acknowledgements .......................................................................................................... ii Abstract ............................................................................................................................ iv Table of Contents ............................................................................................................ vi List of Figures .................................................................................................................. ix List of Tables .................................................................................................................. ix List of Photographs ...………………………………………………………………......ix List of Appendices……………………………………………………………….……..ix Abbreviations…...……………………………………………………………….……...ix Glossary of Fijian Terms and meanings………………………….……………………..x The ‘Iluvatu Mat as Metaphor……...……………………………….…………………xiii CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCTION….…………………………………………………1

1.1 Study Topic and my Educational journey…….…………………………. ...3 1.2 Study rational and Objectives..………………………………………..........4 1.3 Defining Terms..……………………….……………………………………5 1.4 Study Methodology and Ethical Considerations ………….………….........6 1.5 Research Question……………………………………….…………….……7 1.6 Main underlying Assumptions………..………………………………….…7 1.7 Significance of Study……………………………………….………….…..8 1.8 Summary of Main Study Findings…………………….……………….…..9 1.9 Limitations of the Study………………………………………………......10 1.10 Organisation of the Thesis..…………………………………….………..11

CHAPTER 2: LITERATURE REVIEW..…………………………………………13

2.0 Introduction.…………………………………………………………….....13 2.1 Indigenous Knowledge...………………………………………………….14 2.2 Missionary Influence….………………………………………………….19 2.3 The Colonial Era and education.……………………………………….....22 2.4 The Post Colonial Era………………………………………………….…27 2.5 The Feminist Stand Point Theory…..………………………….…………33 2.6 The School and the Community……...…………………………………..34 2.7 Summary…...……………………..………………………………………36

CHAPTER 3: STUDY CONTEXT: THE ROAD TO CU’U..……………………38

3.0 Introduction.………………………………………………………………38 3.1 Searching for meaning..…………………………………………………..38 3.2 Cu’u Environment and history..…………………………………………..41 3.3 The Origin of the Cu’u people……………………………………………43 3.4 Early Socio-political Encounters…………………………………………47 3.5 The New Era in an Old Site..…………………………………….……….49 3.6 Current Social Setting...………………………………………….……….52 3.7 The Economic setting.……………………………………………….……57 3.8 Balawaviri’i: a vanua philosophy for economic sustainability……..…….58 3.9 The place of Education in Cu’u.…………………………………….……60 3.10 Lotu and the Vanua……………………………………………………..61

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3.11 The Schools…...……………………………………………………..61 3.12 Summary..……………………………………………………………62

CHAPTER 4: STUDY METHODOLOGY..……………………………………64 4.0 Introduction.……………………………………………….………….64 4.1 The Qualitative Paradigm…..…………………………………………66 4.2 Ethnography...…………………………………………………………71 4.2.1 Features of Ethnography..…………………………..73 4.2.2 Validity and Reliability…………………………….74 4.3 The Research Framework……………………………………………...80 4.4 Ethical considerations…………………………………………………82 4.5 Preparatory Phase………………………………………………………85 4.6 The Fieldwork….………………………………………………………86 4.6.1 Fitting into the ‘Iluvatu Lens..……………………...87 4.6.2 Entry protocols……………………………………..94 4.7 The Fieldwork Processes….………………………………………...…97 4.7.1 The Interview Sessions.…………………………….98 4.7.2 Appropriate Endings..…………………………….104 4.8 After the Fieldwork………………………………………………….108 4.8.1 Transcribing Interviews..………………………….108 4.8.2 Coding the Interviews……………………………..110 4.6.4 Analysing and Interpreting Data..…………………112 4.7 Summary…………………………..………………………………….114

CHAPTER 5: CU’U INDIGENOUS KNOWLEDGE…………………………115 5.0 Introduction....………………………………………………………..115 5.1 Knowledge of the Territorial sphere…….……………………………116 5.1.1 Gardening as Important Knowledge.…..………………….117 5.1.2 Weaving….………..………………………………………..119 5.1.3 Fishing.……...…….………………………………………..123 5.1.4 ‘Ena dau Knowledge: Special Knowledge….…..………….125 5.2 The Knowledge of the Social World: Relational Knowledge………..129 5.2.1 Veiwe’ani (Kinship Ties).……...…………………………..130

5.2.2 Sharing………….………………………………………….132 5.2.3 Spoken Words or Vosa…………………………………..…134 5.2.4 Event as Time……………………………………………..136

5.2.5 Vanua Psyche…….………………………..………………137 5.2.6 Coping mechanisms.……………………………………….138

5.3 Spirituality as Important Knowledge…………………………….…..142 5.3.1 Christianity…..………………..…………………………...143 5.3.2 Traditional deities……………………………….………..144 5.3.3 A means of explanation……..…..……………….……..…..145 5.3.4 Mana: A Social device……...………….……….………….146 5.4 Validating Knowledge.………………………..………….………….148 5.5 Transmission of Knowledge…………………………….…………..150

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5.5.1 Pedagogy is part of knowledge……………………………150 5.5.2 The inner being has to be engaged in Learning…….…..….151 5.5.3 Learning takes place when there is bond…….……………151 5.5.4 Learning requires minimal verbal expressions……..…..….153 5.5.5 Learning is the responsibility of the Learner…….…………153 5.5.6 No room for Errors……..……………………………….…154 5.6 Summary.……………………………………………………....…….154

CHAPTER 6: CHANGING KNOWLEDGE AND THE SCHOOL…………157 6.0 Introduction………………………………………………………….157

6.1 Background.…………………………………….……………………157 6.2 The changing face of Cu’u...…………………………………………159 6.2.1 The village Setting….……………...………………………159 6.2.2 Communication…..……..…………………..………………160 6.3 An evolving Knowledge System..……………..……………………..160 6.3.1 The diminishing size of the ‘Iluvatu: Inclusiveness………..161 6.3.2 Loma Lailai: Altered Spaces ………………………………162 6.3.3 Luluqa nai Lawa: Weakening family values….…..…...……167 6.3.4 To’a volavola: other unique features of Cu’u…………...…171 6.4 The School as a site of Struggle………………………………………174 6.4.1 Vatuvula District School: an indepth study………………..177 6.5 Summary…...…………………………………………………………184

CHAPTER 7: A CREATIVE SPACE FOR POSSIBILITIES………………..186

7.0 Introduction……………………………….…………………………..186 7.1 Cu’u Knowledge: an inter-relational philosophy……………………..187 7.1.1 An ‘Ai Cu’u: a three dimensional person.……….………….188 7.12 Linking philosophy to the findings..…….………………….190 7.2 Weaving IK and Indigenous ways to the Formal School system….....191 7.21 Recommendations for Merging……………………………..192 7.3 The ‘Iluvatu Metaphor as a Research Framework……………………197 7.4 Summary...……………………………………………………………201

CHAPTER 8: CONCLUSIONS AND IMPLICATIONS OF STUDY …….…202

8.0 Introduction……………………………………………………….….202 8.1 Summary of Study.….………………………………………………..202 8.2 Implications of Study…………………………………………………205 8.2.1 Implications for Education…….……………………………205 8.2.2 Implications for Fijian Education ………………………….207 8.2.3 Implications for Research…………………………………..213 8.2.4 Implications for Theory…….…..…………………………..214 8.2.5 Implications for Policy……………………………………..216 8.3 Possibilities for Future Research.…………………………….………216

BIBLIOGRAPHY……………………………………………………….……….218

APPENDICES……………………………………………………………….…...233

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LIST OF FIGURES Figure 1: Social Groups of the Original Cu’u community……………………….45 Figure 2: Cu’u people’s origin and the chiefly line or family tree………………..46 Figure 3: Current Social groups in the four villages………………………………54 Figure 4: Social systems showing vanua as main reference point………………..55 Figure 5: A conceptual framework of my study methodology……………………65 Figure 6: The Fijian worldview that frames knowledge and epistemology……… 81 Figure 7: ‘Iluvatu Framework: the research process………………………………88 Figure 8: Forces of Change with the mediating role of Vanua..………………...158 Figure 9: Cu’u People’s Pool of Knowledge……………………………………187 Figure 10: The ‘Ai Cu’u as inseparable part of knowledge spheres……………..189 Figure 11: Conceptualising Vanua and School Merge………………………….. 193 Figure 12: Space for respect in the learning circle………………………………..210

LIST OF TABLES

Table 1: Details of death from the Vonu gaga………………………………48 Table 2: Class 6 topic: Culture and society…………………………………208 Table 3: Class 6 topic: Place and environment……………………………..209

LIST OF PHOTOGRAPHS Photo 1: An improvised oven showing a cake being baked………………………169 Photo 2: Southern view of Vatuvula District School …..……………………….178 LIST OF APPENDICES A : Map of Fiji showing Cu’u, the site of study………………………233 B : Research Questions used to guide interviews…………………….234 C : Approval Letter from the Ministry of Education…………………235 D : List of Interviewees………………………………………………236 ABBREVIATIONS IK : Indigenous Knowledge IKS : Indigenous Knowledge System FVRF : Fijian Vanua Research Framework NFNC: National Foods and Nutrition Committee NLDC : Native Land Development Commission CMF : Christian Mission Fellowship USP: University of the South Pacific

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GLOSSARY OF FIJIAN TERMS AND MEANINGS

‘a’ase gossip

‘atoa refers to someone who has had a successful fishing trip.

‘awa geneology

bati traditional warrior

bula va’avavalagi modern lifestyle

bulu va’avudi a metaphor used to refer to a number of people buried in one grave.

dila light jokes made in daily conversations

gaga poisonous

gonedau traditional fishermen

‘iluvatu a floor mat that is woven with special skills by the women of Cu’u and neighbouring areas. The mat is characterized by its thickness and strength, which provides its long lasting value.

liga ‘o’ona refers to someone who is good or an expert in catching fish by the line method.

loloma compassion

Lotu Refers to the Christian church.

maqa a dialect word for ‘no’. The more widely used term is ‘sega’ in other parts of Fiji.

matanitu the government.

matanivanua a person holding the traditional role to speak and be the ‘face’ of the vanua or chief.

mataqali patrilineal social unit made up of subgroups of extended families called to’ato’a.

oga social obligations that connect relationships and reaffirms values of belongingness and inclusiveness.

patipati refers to outboard motors

Ratu Sukuna A Fijian chief, scholar, soldier, and statesman who lived from 1888 to 1958. He is still regarded as the forerunner of the post-independence leadership of Fiji. He laid the groundwork for self-government by fostering the development of institutions such as the Native Lands

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Commission, the development banks and various schools in Fiji. His vision set the course that Fiji was to take in the years to follow.

sacasaca crotons - an ornamental plant

sautabu sacred graveyard

sevusevu an entry protocol to a vanua or family. This normally requires the presentation of yaqona (pipermethysticum) by visitors.

tagi yaso continuos cry of mourning

ta’ita’i a customary practice where people share their meals by taking a plate of food to another family.

talanoa engaging in conversations. May also refer to stories.

talasiga a distinctive plant soil complex characterised by red soils, hardy ferns and pandanus plants. Generally avoided by cultivators as they are normally unproductive.

talitali weaving

to’ato’a subgroups that make up a mataqali in the social organization.

tu galala a settlement away from the main village. The concept of tu galala was introduced by colonizers in the hope of helping indigenous Fijians with economic pursuits.

Tui Cu’u the chiefly title for the chief of the Yavusa of Cu’u.

vanarua a type of steam boat that was used in the early colonial days

vanua A term that refers to a people, their social structure, environment, history, their territorial spheres, their spirituality and all relationships embraced within it.

vasu a special relationship that entitles a person to certain ‘rights’ in the mother’s village.

vatu stones

veiwe’ani refers to relationship or being related

veisei conflict involving a tribe

veitabu’i a relationship that disallows people to talk or get close to each other as an expression of respect and relatedness.

vele a curse believed to be caused by disruptions of vanua protocols.

vonu turtle

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yaqona also known as grog or kava in other parts of the Pacific. It may refer to the plant pipermethysticum and also the drink that is made from it.

Yavu house sites carrying customary significance.

yavusa a larger social unit made of several mataqali. May be referred to as a vanua in certain contexts.

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THE ‘ILUVATU MAT AS METAPHOR

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CHAPTER 1

INTRODUCTION

The purpose of this study was to explore Indigenous Knowledge (IK) and education in

an indigenous community and provide IK a platform for analysis in academic

discourses. The study was an attempt to engage with the question of how IK and

indigenous ways of learning might be incorporated into the formal education system in

order to make learning more relevant, contextualised and ‘democratic’ in the terms of

indigenous learners and teachers in Fiji.

The issue of relevance for formal education has become most pressing today as critics

interrogate a system that has suppressed and neglected its users’ knowledge systems and

ways of learning since formal education was introduced in Fiji more than 150 years ago

(Thaman,1993 & 2010, Nabobo-Baba, 2005, Tavola,1991). This concern has intensified

as the ‘faulty’ system (through schooling), has become a vital engagement for every

child reaching six years of age and is expected to remain in the system for up to twelve

years of his/her life. In a press release, the Minister for Education in Fiji announced that

the Fijian Government had embarked on fulfilling its goal to provide every child twelve

years of basic education by removing three school (external) examinations (the Fiji

Intermediate, Fiji Eighth Year and the Fiji Junior) in order to enable students to reach

Form Six (Bole, 2010).

This new strategy was also intended to curb the problems of school dropouts, which

averages 3,500 children between classes 4 – 6 every year (Zakaria, 2005). These

children are often the ones suspected of committing offences such as rape, robbery,

assault, murder, prostitution and other social problems (Fiji Islands Bureau of Statistics,

2010). The search for solutions to the school drop out problem has involved various

levels of the community. At the district level, an initiative called ‘Tabutabu vuli

campaign’ (No school campaign) in Ra1 was set to help curb school dropouts in 2010.

The initiative saw 15 students put back into the school system that year (Bole, 2010). At

1A district in the north-eastern side of Vitilevu, Fiji.

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the academic level, the same concern inspired Puamau (1999) to interrogate education

policies and examine why affirmative action policies had not helped to narrow racial

inequalities in education. The researcher posited that the answers could not be based on

the principles of justice and equality of Western academic discourses. Answers had to

be explored within the spaces for radical coalitions, where people were empowered and

given opportunities to think and act so that a collective consciousness for the common

good becomes the key in decisions made.

The same concern drove Tuimavana (2010) to study the quality of teachers in rural

schools and identify the potential ‘space’ for radical coalition to be the ‘vanua’ or Fijian

community structure, what he referred to as the ‘social glue’. Tuimavana further added

that sustainable solutions to the Fijian dilemma had to include the vanua and its

knowledge systems in order to make education more meaningful and relevant in the

terms of the people.

The educational dilemma mentioned above is not only confined to Fiji but is a problem

faced by most Pacific Islands education systems. For many years, researchers have been

critically examining the Eurocentric bias of the school curriculum and have focused on

students and their communities for answers. Thaman (1988) for instance has analyzed

Tongan people’s ways of thinking and learning and has argued that education can only

be understood within the context of the society in which it occurs. Referring to Tonga,

Thaman noted that the ‘kinds of matters which preoccupy the thoughts of people in a

given society and which they consider important and worthy of perpetuating’, was

missing from the modern classroom culture. The researcher further found that many of

the educational problems in Tonga were rooted in the conflicts between the learner’s

culture and the school culture. Nabobo-Baba (2006) found similar situations with the

Vugalei Fijians that she studied.

These studies inform this current work in many ways since there is still a dearth of

information on the ways a remote and rural population in Fiji, such as Cu’u with its own

world-view and realities, negotiate the formal knowledge and education system in Fiji.

Hence, the current research tries to address the central question:

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What is regarded as important knowledge in an indigenous Fijian community and how can this valued knowledge be included in the content and pedagogies of schools?

This question has become particularly important in view of the increasing thrust by

indigenous researchers world over, to recognize IK and ways of learning and contribute

to the global pool of knowledge, although many indigenous researchers have been

offended by the attitude that treats IK as ‘obstacles’ to personal and national progress in

education and economic development (Agrawal, 2005; Sillitoe, et.al, 2002). These

critics have blamed the dominant western paradigms for viewing issues with an

economic lens, and advocating ‘modernisation’ as a machine that must ‘take off’ from

the traditional (or indigenous) society if they want to ’develop’. Formal education

therefore has come to be identified as the key player in ‘creating modern individuals’ by

equipping them with skills and knowledge suited for the modernization (or

globalization) agenda (Brym and Lie, 2005). These modern skills and knowledge have

been and are being promoted by formal educational institutions and structures as ‘truth’

and the way teaching and learning need to focus upon.

This research recognizes that for far too long, IK and the indigenous people in Fiji have

been subdued and relegated to the sidelines of education by dominant paradigms

because of an accident of history. The study therefore hopes to provide IK and

indigenous people as owners of this knowledge, a more central place in Fijian

education, and allow people space in which to claim a collective ‘voice’ that is worth

listening to for the sake of indigenous Fijian education.

1.1 Study topic and my educational journey

Although this thesis is about Indigenous Knowledge and learning in an indigenous

Fijian community; it is also about my own educational journey as an indigenous Fijian

woman socialized in an indigenous culture as well as in the school culture, both as a

student and as a teacher. My personal story has been woven into this thesis and

represents a process of searching for meaning and truth in two contrasting worlds - the

world of formal education, underpinned by predominantly western values and theories,

and the indigenous Fijian world characterised by its own knowledge and value systems

developed over millennia and manifested still, in contemporary Fijian social contexts,

4

as traditions and customs. Western values today have been embodied in modern

lifestyles that often lead many Fijians to view their traditional ways with skepticism, at

times questioning whether their traditions are worth maintaining and/or transmitting to

their young. These tensions often means that the school has become a site of struggle

for many Fijian students and teachers and now with increasing globalization the school

as a site for learning is being increasingly contested by local as well as global forces.

My story reflects the struggles of an indigenous woman of Cu’u, a woman from the

‘other’ world, the indigenous world, who also happens to be an academic and a product

of the school world. For me, this study is also about re-discovering indigenous

knowledge and education in a remote and rural setting in Fiji and while the study to a

large extent represents the ‘voice’ of the Cu’u people it is but a small’ echo’ as a larger

part of their story remains untold.

1.2 Study Rationale and Objectives

The main aim of this study is to explore indigenous knowledge and education in a Fijian

community. More specifically the study focuses on the relationship between indigenous

knowledge and practices and school knowledge and practices. It is hoped that the

results of this study would be a useful tool for critical re-assessment of the role of

schools in the transmission of Fijian culture. The study also tries to highlight the need to

integrate indigenous and local knowledge into the school curriculum in order to help

improve indigenous students’ school performance as well as school and community

relationships in Fiji.

In some ways this study may be seen as an attempt to ‘rewrite and re-right’ our

positions in history and create space for indigenous knowledge in the pool of important

knowledge. It is also an attempt to encapture, unearth and disclose indigenous realities

which have been suppressed and/or blurred for too long. It approaches issues of

education and learning from the indigenous point of view by examining the way the

Cu’u people theorize, construct, encode and pass on important knowledge, values and

skills. Like other indigenous projects, this study uses decolonizing strategies to re-

centre and realign indigenous knowledge in order to enhance school curriculum and

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learning (Smith, 1999).

This study was also an opportunity to add to other voices, indigenous ‘voices’ that were

once silenced in academia but now making efforts to be heard and restored in terms of

heritage and dignity. By harmonizing indigenous knowledge with western knowledge,

it may be possible that healing and dignity will be restored and basic human rights

applied in indigenous Fijian communities (Batiste, 2000).

1.3 Defining Terms

When Fijian terms are used here, the English translations or equivalents appear in

brackets. - Dei and Simmon (2009) note that language was a powerful tool used by

colonizers to shape and form hegemonic relations. In this report language is used to

counter hegemony by giving priority to Cu’u and Fijian words. Nabobo-Baba (2005)

argues that the full meaning of a word is captured in the use of Fijian words, as English

translations do not always depict the full meaning.

For the purposes of this study, the UNESCO definition of Indigenous Knowledge is

used – that is knowledge that is accepted unique to a given culture or society. It

contrasts with the international knowledge system generated by universities, research

institutions and private firms (Warren,1991a).While this definition does not fully

capture the diversity of Indigenous Knowledge and Peoples, UNESCO (2003) further

clarifies the common features of IK saying that it usually is:

i.Locally bound, indigenous to a specific area.

ii.Culture- and context-specific.

iii.Non-formal knowledge.

iv.Orally transmitted, and generally not documented.

v.Dynamic and adaptive.

vi.Holistic in nature.

vii.Closely related to survival and subsistence for many people worldwide

This study assumes that IK not only exists in Cu’u but it is valued as important

knowledge by the community.

6

1.4 Study Methodology and Ethical Considerations

Ethnography

It was crucial in this research to use a methodology that would tap the knowledge

system of a people whose web of relationships and structures have been ingrained in

their life styles for longer than recorded history. A methodological search in the

scientific realm was problematic but literature confirmed the setback to be normal of

indigenous researches of this nature (Sillitoe et.al, 2002; Duara, 2004; Hoppers, 2002).

Nevertheless, the area of ethnography was found to be close enough to inform this

research.

Ethnography is a methodology that allows a researcher to describe ‘the entire way of

life of a people’ (Brym and Lie, 2005). In this study, the entire way of life was studied

through a fieldwork experience that required the researcher to live in the community for

a period of 7 months. Guided by the Pacific Research Framework of Vanua developed

by Nabobo-Baba (2005), this ethnographic research explored local points of view as

well as a community’s pool of knowledge using Fijian ways of obtaining information,

such as talanoa.

Ethics

In line with the purpose of this study, the research was approached using a decolonizing

methodology which allowed the process of research to be supported and affirmed by the

community’s protocols of relationships, ways of acquiring knowledge and community

practices. Such an approach was possible through the use of the ‘Iluvatu Research

Framework designed specifically for this study (as explained in Chapter 4).

The ‘Iluvatu Research Framework recognizes the values of inclusiveness, respect,

family, cohesiveness, uniqueness, reflections, reciprocity and spirituality as the cultural

foundations that form the core of the research ethics in the Cu’u community. These

ethics together with all the Vanua research ethics such as the protocols of entry, talanoa

and ways of accessing knowledge (Nabobo-Baba, 2006), have been used to ensure that

7

information collected was treated with deep respect and people were appropriately

reciprocated in the process. Above all, these ethics ensured that the research process

was conducted without ‘disturbing’ or ‘harming’ the vanua.

As a researcher guided by the research ethics above, I was fully aware that the authentic

data collected in the research was precious to the vanua of Cu’u and that it was my

responsibility to deliver it in such a way that it would enhance and not damage

relationships in the vanua. All information collected in this research was carefully

checked and made public only when found to be free of unsettling or potentially

harmful undertones.

1.5 Research Questions

The main research question of the study was: What is regarded as important knowledge

in an indigenous Fijian community and how can this valued knowledge be included in

the content and pedagogies of schools? Several other questions arose out of the main

one, serving to provide a conceptual framework for gathering information and they

include:

i.What is regarded important knowledge in the community

ii. What are the bases of this knowledge? [vanua, lotu, education, western]

iii. How is the knowledge validated?

iv.How is important knowledge transmitted?

v.How has this knowledge changed over the years?

vi.Which important knowledge have disappeared and why?

vii.To what extent is this important knowledge reflected in the structures and

processes of schooling & what role can the school play in its maintenance and

preservation?

1.6 Main Underlying Assumptions

Several underlying assumptions were made in the research. They are:

i) Indigenous knowledge and ways of knowing exist and are important for

8

indigenous communities in Fiji.

Gegeo and Watson-Gegeo (2001) claim that colonization has undermined indigenous

knowledge base including ways of knowing, custom, theorizing, construction and

encoding of this knowledge for the next generation. Although indigenous knowledge

and values still form the foundation of community life for indigenous Fijians, due to

hegemonic forces such as formal education and Christianity, indigenous knowledge and

ways of thinking have been suppressed.

ii) There is little connection between schooling and the cultural experiences of indigenous Fijian students

The organization of the school as well as the curriculum continues to reflect the values

of previous colonial powers despite successive governments’ attempts to localize the

education system. Policies such as the affirmative action intended to help Indigenous

Fijian education have mostly failed. Thus the connection between the school and many

Fijian communities continues to be fragile.

iii) There is a need for school pedagogy and learning to be better contextualized in

order to make learning more meaningful for indigenous students.

Further to the assumptions, an important related point is raised by Dei and Simmons

who claim that:

Curricula should encourage learners to think through local Indigenous languages, the learning objective being that we can come to know through different paths. With the interconnections of language, identity, spirituality and Indigenous faith, curricula must point learners to holistic ways of learning. Inculcating “community classroom,” lessons ought to be developed…. Curricula should bring learners to a sense that we form knowledge from multiple positions of knowing (Dei and Simmons, 2009:25- 26).

1.7 Significance of Study

This study is significant for a number of reasons. First the study is an opportunity for

Indigenous Fijians to ‘write and talk back’ to colonialism in support of the

acknowledgement of their own indigenous knowledge systems. For too long,

9

indigenous knowledge has been suppressed and regarded as the ‘other’ knowledge by

western/colonial writers. This study hopes to draw out cultural processes and

indigenous meanings of issues that matter to Indigenous Fijians in particular, and

Pacific people as a whole.

Secondly, this study hopes to provide insights into the tensions and pressures faced by

indigenous people in their learning processes. Studies on indigenous groups carried out

in the Pacific indicate that western education has influenced indigenous people to think

and behave differently from their people as they face additional pressures brought about

by acculturation into other cultures and their knowledge systems. The study hopes to

identify important areas of indigenous knowledge that can be used by educationists to

device ways of making school learning more realistic, meaningful and democratic for

indigenous Fijian students.

Thirdly this study is important in itself. Researchers the world over select aspects of

their cultures for study. This is an opportunity for this researcher to document IK

associated with her people in the hope that a small contribution to its knowledge base is

made before a lot of it is lost for ever.

1.8 Summary of main study findings

This study has confirmed that the educational dilemma for indigenous Fijians may only

be resolved adequately when the Indigenous Knowledge System becomes part of and is

integrated into the School Knowledge System. It is therefore imperative that any

attempts to strengthen the connection between the two systems must include the serious

consideration of the culture of the community that send children to school for

education. Differences between the two cultures will continue to put pressure among

indigenous learners as they attempt to think and behave differently and ‘fit into’ a

school culture and its associated learning processes.

The study also shows the important place of IKS in the way indigenous learners

perceive their world and act within it. Much of this knowledge need to be included in

the formal education system and treated as important knowledge. The knowledge of the

spiritual realm for example, was used to validate truths and therefore determine the

10

daily actions of people in the study. When such knowledge is made less important

and/or left out by the school culture, the learner’s realities often become distorted and

unclear, often leading to learning problems.

The study has also shown that indigenous students’ realities are under-represented in the

school curriculum. This often makes the school and classroom environments artificial

spaces for learning, from students’ (indigenous) perspectives. Such an artificial

environment directly contributes to the learning dilemma often faced by indigenous

Fijian children in school.

This study also suggests ways of how this dilemma may be addressed through the

possible integration of IK into the school structure and processes in order to make

learning more meaningful for indigenous students and make teaching more enjoyable

for remote and rural teachers. This suggestion recognizes the important role that vanua

structures and processes play in the education of indigenous people and the need for

school learning to be centred in the realities of the vanua if the current (poor)

performance of many indigenous students is to be properly addressed.

1.9 Limitations of the study

Like any other research, this study is constrained by methodological imperfections.

Most of the data in this research was collected at a time when the community

experienced one of the worst natural disasters in the history of Cu’u when Hurricane

Tomas and the accompanying tidal waves devastated the area in March, 2010, three

months into my fieldwork. While the phenomological approach is used to capture the

"lived experience" and the knowledge and realities of the people of Cu’u on the

aftermath of the disaster, my insider role and familiarity with the culture may have

affected my view of some of the information obtained from participants.

In addition, this study has focused on schools in a remote and rural area and

generalizations cannot be made about all such schools in the country. For example, the

issues of language, mathematics and socialization may differ for urban schools as their

degree of enculturation into new and migrant cultures is expected to be much stronger

11

than those living in Cu’u. However the study has provided an insight into the kind of

realities and worldview that affect the interpretations and meanings of issues that matter

to indigenous people, and are therefore crucial in understanding the way they think and

behave.

Finally this study was funded mainly from a small research fund which often limited the

researcher’s ability to attend to important indigenous protocols that fund controllers

might have considered unimportant. This included for instance items purchased for

sevusevu (“gifts”) and other cultural protocols.

1.10 Organisation of the thesis

The thesis comprises eight chapters. This chapter provides an Introduction to the study.

Chapter Two is a review of literature on Indigenous Knowledge and Education.

Through this literature we get a glimpse of the way imperialism and colonialism were

and are perpetuated through the formal education system and its associated structures

and processes. The chapter also reviews IK in the Post-colonial era and discusses the

Feminist Standpoint Theory including notions of ‘othering’, ‘hybridity’ and ‘voice’.

The context to the study is described in Chapter 3. The Cu’u people, their history,

geography, economy and social environments are described including those webs of

relationships that connect people with their environments and with one another. Chapter

4 is about the Methodology and associated data gathering techniques used in the study.

The qualitative research paradigm is described together with ethnography, the main

methodology of the study. The chapter also describes the fieldwork and associated

activities. The Vanua protocol is presented together with the research tools of talanoa

and nofo, and associated research ethics. The chapter further describes fieldwork

realities as guided by the “Iluvatu framework together with the values that underpin it

such as inclusiveness, respect, family, cohesiveness, uniqueness, reflexivity,

receprocacity and spirituality. These values are discussed in the context of data

collection processes.

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Chapter 5 presents the study findings in terms of what is important knowledge in Cu’u.

It also examines how knowledge is validated and passed on within the context of the

vanua (community) way. Chapter 6 discusses aspects of the knowledge system that

have either changed or disappeared. The chapter examines the power behind the

changing system and whose agenda the changes are made to benefit. The chapter

focuses on the school as an institution that generates knowledge, and becomes a site of

struggle for power as it disseminates its truth. As a case study for such an institution, the

chapter focuses on Vatuvula District School. Chapter 7 analyses the findings under

three main areas of discussion - the indigenous pool of knowledge, the classroom as a

space for possibilities and the “Iluvatu as a Pacific Research Framework. Chapter 8

provides a summary of the study and considers some possible implications on

education, Fijian Education, research, theory and policy.

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CHAPTER 2

LITERATURE REVIEW

2.0 Introduction This chapter aims to provide a review of the literature on Indigenous knowledge and

education, particularly in Fiji. One of my main purposes in choosing my thesis topic

was to explore the role of Indigenous Knowledge in Fijian Education by focusing on the

indigenous Fijian society and how Fijian notions of education might have changed

through schooling. This suggests that the neglect of Indigenous Knowledge in formal

education has largely contributed to Fijians’ learning problems and other social ills. In

order to understand the issues discussed above, the chapter begins by looking at some

challenges faced by researchers around the world in the treatment of Indigenous

Knowledge (IK) and its impact on indigenous education in general.

The chapter also focuses on the school as a site of struggle for power. It is often said

that knowledge is power and whoever defines knowledge has the power to disseminate

that knowledge as truth. The dissemination of knowledge is influenced by the kind of

authority in place. The discussion in this section is guided by Max Weber’s (1958) view

on the three types of authority that are likely to determine the type of knowledge that

dominates in a society.

In the school, the state with an authoritarian approach influences the pedagogy and

curriculum in schools and in fact the whole educational paradigm. In the village setting,

the traditional authority, the chief, influences the kind of knowledge that sustains the

community norms. There is also the charismatic leader in the person of the Christian

priest who is very convincing and influences how the community absorbs and adopts

new knowledge. These three forms of authority influence the status quo in the

community and determine who wins in the struggle for power. My interest in this

study is to do with a space to be created in the struggle and how we as educationists can

turn that space into a more ‘user-friendly’ learning environment.

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2.1 Indigenous Knowledge The potential impact of the move to “rethink, redefine and relocate” the subjugated

status of indigenous people and their knowledge has challenged research approaches

and educational practices around the world. Banerjee and Linstead (2004), describe

such a move as “reversing the lens” in order to ask different kinds of questions in

research. Some of the questions asked in the process of classifying the ‘other’2 as

further suggested by Banerjee and Linstead (2004), include “who is doing the

identifying and who is being identified? How are the parameters of otherness defined?

Such questions have helped researchers to unpack the historical relationship Western

researchers have developed with indigenous people who have been treated as the other

or ‘objects’ of research for a long time (Langdon, 2009).

Health has been a key area of focus for some researchers. Lavall’ee (2009) in his

attempt to explore the notions of health and well-being amongst the Anishnaabe

indigenous people of Canada, has approached his research using two indigenous

methods - sharing circles and Anishnaabe symbol-based reflection. The indigenous

approach led to the formation of a medicine wheel as a theoretical frame for his study.

The medicine wheel which incorporated traditional structures and methods of

interviews and conversations in traditional contexts were found to be capable of

providing an alternative approach to research. Similarly, in Uganda , there is increasing

research interests and activities on the use of traditional medicine despite the common

belief that resorting to herbal medicine was “backward, uncivilized and unholy”

(Tumanyire, 2002).

In the education paradigm, validation of the classroom knowledge has been linked to

misleading interpretations that downplay indigenous knowledge systems (Ferreira,

2001). In a study of access and equity, Ferreira (2001) noted that the scientific method

has used standardized tests to measure information drawn from the empirical domain

but overlooks the differences in students’ opportunities to access, understand and use

the information available. Unfortunately, educators use these test results to sort out who

2 The notion of ‘other’ is discussed later in this chapter.

15

is successful and called ‘educated’ and ‘intelligent’; and who are the others called

‘failures’ (Ferreira, 2001). Battiste (2002) confirms that such test measurements are

unrealistic and ignore important elements of access and equity which also define the

quality and quantity of knowledge attained by individuals. The bias nature of classroom

processes is further understood from Langdon’s position:

…from a curricular standpoint, the way a course or discipline is framed becomes the lens through which information is judged to be relevant to the discipline in question. (Langdon, 2009:43)

Interpretation of words using an empirical frame has displaced indigenous people and

their knowledge in certain cases. The term ‘traditional knowledge’ for example, seems

to suggest a body of old data that has been handed down generation to generation,

essentially unchanged (Battiste, 2002; Sillitoe et al. 2002). Such a ‘lens’ reduces

indigenous knowledge to its empirical content and ignores the spiritual and social

meanings that are attached to it. In a similar fashion, the commercial value of

indigenous knowledge as embodied in songs, dance, ceremonies, symbols and artwork

are noted to be biased towards the empirical models of the world they represent

(Battiste, 2002).

The empirical frame has also posed problems of taxonomy in research. Taxonomy is the

categorization of empirical data in scientific studies (Neetle and Romaine, 2000). The

categorization, often decided by the researcher, is usually foreign to the people studied

and excludes the holistic nature of indigenous knowledge which includes the physical,

relational and spiritual realms (Dei et.al, 2009). For example, the categorisation of

species names, local plants and their uses, changing weather and animal migration

patterns are often unfamiliar to those who use and interact with them daily (Battiste,

2002). These global examples have come about as researchers began to ask questions

such as “who is doing the identifying and who is being identified? How are the

parameters defined? The answers have emerged as researchers begin to unpack the past

to help us see things differently. In the same vein, in order to ask different questions and

charter the future of the Fijian people, this chapter will look to the past.

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An extensive collection of literature on Fijian knowledge and ways have been written

from various perspectives, all of which have also enriched the discussions in this study.

For example, Nayacakalou (1975) focuses on traditional society and Fijian land issues,

Ravuvu (1983) on Fijian ethos, Lasaqa (1984) on tradition and change and Tuwere

(1992) has explored vanua from a theological perspective. The current study focuses on

Indigenous Knowledge in a remote and rural community in Fiji - Cu’u. Nabobo-Baba

(2005) describes a study that is quite similar to this one, in her study of seven villages of

the Vugalei District3, focusing on Fijian worldview and epistemology as well as its

implications on education.

Some researchers claim that education (defined here as worthwhile learning) was

already an integral part of the early Fijian society prior to European contact ((Baba,

1986; Tavola, 1991; Bakalevu, 1998 and Nabobo-Baba, 2005). This claim contradicts

with earlier reports by westerners that the early Fijians were uneducated, primitive,

uncivilized and people merely preoccupied with fierce warfare, cannibalism and a

barbaric lifestyle (Derrik, 2008 and Garret, 1985). Disgusted by such unbalanced

negative assessments, Ravuvu (1987:1) challenges that:

One of the saddest mistakes of early missionaries who arrived in the South Pacific during the 19th century was their assumption that they brought education to an entirely uneducated and uncivilized society. If literacy and formal schooling constitute the whole of education, they were probably right; but in so far as education is a preparation for living in the society into which we are born, they were profoundly making a mistake.

Ravuvu’s reaction above might have sparked suggestions and also duly influenced by

the idea that the early Fijians’ notion of education was linked to the appropriate

application of Indigenous Knowledge and therefore had a much longer history of

engagement with the Fijian people themselves prior to western contact (Baba, 1986;

Bakalevu, 1998 and Nabobo-Baba, 2006). According to Kedrayate (2001), indigenous

Fijian education prepared people to play their cultural roles such as hunting, fishing and

house building for boys. Females learnt roles such as childrearing, cooking and weaving

3One of the districts that forms the larger province of Tailevu in Fiji.

17

of mats. Education formed a central part of everyday life and learning was “contextually

derived and was therefore relevant and meaningful” (Puamau, 1999:63).

While no one can fully understand the context of learning in early Fijian society,

anthropologists suggest that the basis of their knowledge system was rooted in a social

structure based on an extended patrilinial kin-group, an organized value system with

practical and social skills geared towards societal maintenance and meanings (Scarr,

1984 and Lal, 1992). Knowledge was passed on from generation to generation,

indicating the central place Indigenous Knowledge played in their lives. Coulter

(1942:20) in referring to the pre-contact era confirms that:

The Fijians at this time had a stable social, political, and economic organization of their own- one little understood by missionaries and other Europeans who visited their shores or came to reside in their islands. So much of their old ways of living has been misunderstood by Europeans, abandoned by them, modified, and spoiled by Western contacts that we shall never know or appreciate the finer points in their old social structure.

The first written history of the indigenous people is confined to the records of early

navigators and white travelers. Cook in his voyage to the Pacific in 1779, found the

early Fijians to have superior skills in carving, textile designing, mat weaving and

pottery (Henderson, 1933). In evaluating their creativity, Cook notes that the Fijians:

…. seem to excel the inhabitants of Tongataboo in that respect, if we might judge from several specimens of their skill in workmanship, which we saw; such as clubs and spears which were carved in a very masterly manner; cloth beautifully chequered; variegated mats, earthen pots, and some other articles all of which had a cast of superiority in the execution. (Henderson, 1933: 115)

Beyond the superficial aesthetics of arts and creativity in Cook’s record, is the social

interaction of a highly intelligent and brilliant people. This assumption is reached when

considering the argument by Colchester (2003) that a deeper understanding of material

culture can be accomplished when the social dimension of arts and creativity is part of

its interpretation. According to Glassie (1999), material culture may reveal a lot about

18

the past, about the people who created or used the artifacts and about change over time.

Cook’s revelation above confirms the existence of a people who had acquired skills that

were meaningful in their social interaction.

Cook further notes that the Fijians possessed a deep appreciation of the environment, as

its underlying processes formed the foundation for decision making in day-to-day

activities. For example, the early people used the span of morning to evening as a

measure for time and distance; and the sun and stars to show direction. Alternatively,

direction was guided by the wind and wave when the sky elements were obscure. In his

journal, Cook further documents that the Fijian people:

…have no other method of measuring the distance from island to island, but by expressing the time required to make a voyage, in one of their canoe...But the length of each day is not to be reckoned at 24-hours. For when they speak of one day’s sail, they mean no more than from morning to evening of the same day; that is, ten or twelve hours at most, and two days’ sail signifies from the morning of the first day to the evening of the second, and so for any other number of days. In these navigations, the sun is their guide by day and the stars by night. When these are obscure, they have recourse to the point from whence the wind and waves come upon the vessel. (Henderson, 1933:115-116)

In a translated record of his acquaintance with the people of Ono-i-Lau on the 21st – 23rd

August, 1819, Fabian Von Ballingshausen, a Russian discoverer was overwhelmed

when the Ono islanders returned his generosity in seven sailing canoes with a quantity

of beautifully made arms of diverse ornamentations including shells, masi (clothing)

and many other types of ornamental materials. Fabian found the islanders to be of

cheerful manners, open, honourable, trustful and friendly (Henderson, 1933) Fabian’s

encounter was a powerful demonstration of the values that were upheld by the early

Fijians. The values of relationship, love, reciprocity and openness, played a central role

in the way the Fijians lived.

Ancient Fijians’ knowledge as recorded by the early explorers suggest that it was

grounded in their immediate environment, skill-based and value-laden. Creative skills in

making various artifacts, including weaving, designing and carving were important and

19

formed a central part of early Fijian people’s livelihood. Other important knowledge

was based on relational skills and values. Much of this knowledge was learnt through

observation, listening and imitating the elders or skill experts in society (Kedrayate,

2001; Puamau, 1999; Thaman, 1992; Baba, 1991). While most life skills would have

been acquired by the time individuals reached adulthood, many continued to learn

cultural skills such as meke (traditional dancing), public speaking and making

presentations through learning activities such as participation and sharing in community

activities and ceremonies (Baba, 1992). Adult learning was highly organised and

ritualistic and was a powerful form of traditional education.

2.2 Missionary Influence

Although contact with the western world can be traced back to the 17th century (e.g.

Abel Tasman in 1643 and Captain Cook in 1779), its impact on Fijian knowledge

systems surfaced only in the mid 19th century when missionaries introduced schooling

to the native Fijians. According to Garret (1994), the dawn of Christianity in Fiji began

with three Tahitian teachers – Tahara, Faaruea and Hatai, who reached Lakeba in 1830.

Other writers mention only two Tahitian teachers and one Fijian chief called Takai

(Calvert, 2003; Tavola, 1991). Despite the inconsistency, the common thread in these

records is that Pacific islanders introduced Christianity to Fiji. This finding contradicts

with the commonly accepted view that David Cargill and William Cross were the first

missionaries to present the Christian gospel when they arrived on the shores of Lakeba

on October 12, 1835 (Tavola, 1991).

Although the impact of the work left by Cargill and Cross is unmatched, writers often

speculate that the success of the missionary work relied heavily on the commitment of

Pacific Islanders in the mission. For example, the Tahitian teachers were successful in

establishing a regular place of worship when they moved to Oneata in 1932 (Garret,

1994). Teacher missionaries were sent from Tahiti by the LMS missionary, John Davis

to preach the Christian gospel in Lakeba. These missionaries were later assisted by

Josua Mateinaniu, a Fijian convert in Tonga and helped in paving the way for

missionaries in Fiji.

20

While such records may be a fascinating accident of history, it is a critical starting point

from which indigenous Fijians situate and understand themselves. According to

Langdon (2009), the frame in any story becomes the lens through which information is

judged. In the case of the missionaries in Fiji, the European missionaries became more

prominent in the spread of Christianity, as the contribution by the local islanders

appeared to be passive. It is therefore not surprising that the European missionaries’

knowledge and ways became the only choice for early Christians.

The most powerful and immediate marker of missionary influence emerged in the area

of education. Although the central motive of European missionaries was to convert the

Fijians into Christianity, most of the natives were initially reluctant to change their

religion but instead, were prepared to learn the new knowledge of the missionaries

(Garret,1994; Tavola, 1991). Formal education began in 1835 immediately after the

Wesleyan missionaries secured some space to settle on Lakeba soils (Tavola, 1991;

Culvert, 2003). The new stories that were not only told orally but read from the Bible

was itself a new experience. According to Tavola (1991), the early Fijians placed a high

value on story-telling and the bible was sought after as a source of stories. The

immediate task of the missionaries was to teach the natives how to read and write.

Cargill, a graduate from Aberdeen with considerable linguistic ability, devised the

Fijian alphabet with phonetic lines and laid the foundation for the Fijian grammar and

dictionary. The missionaries diligently translated the Bible and put together other

related materials for the new form of education.

Despite the turbulent state of Fiji’s history in the early part of the nineteenth century,

missionary education grew so fast that by 1836, the early mission schools were already

packed with pupils learning how to read and write. Garret notes that on a Sunday in

September 1836, “Cargill’s small chapel was overflowing with a congregation of 300 or

400 Tonguese from the Leeward Is. of Feejee”(Garret, 1994:103). By 1839, this

number had grown to 564 pupils but no converts (Tavola, 1991). The increasing number

of pupils attracted to Cargill’s classroom not only heralded a foundation for a brand new

set of skills and knowledge, but it was also the beginning of a divided world in a social

structure based on an extended patrilinial kin-group. The world of the indigenous

21

Fijians was divided up into those who could read and write and those who could not or

in Langdon’s terms “those who had the potential to develop and to become Christian

and civilized – and those who didn’t…” (Langdon, 2009:48).

The missionaries’ way of education became so popular that by 1838 extra resources

were needed in other islands apart from Lakeba. For example, Isaac Ravuata, a mission

teacher in Ono sent back words to Calvert that they needed books for the number of

pupils was increasing every day (Calvert, 2003). By 1856, the number had grown to

thousands when Calvert’s successor, Waterhouse alerted the Missionary Society in

Australia about his need for more reading materials (Tavola, 1991). The search for new

knowledge had begun in a terrain that continued to subjugate the indigenous Fijians and

their knowledge. Apart from acquiring classroom knowledge, Fijians learnt new values

and lifestyles from daily interaction with the missionaries and their wives as noted here

by Calvert (2003:11):

Many now obtained an axe or a hatchet, or plane iron, or chisel, or knife, or razor, or iron pot, or some calico or print, or other article, for which they had longed hopelessly before, and which was given in payment for fencing, building, gardening, or other services; as also for pigs, fowls, fish, crabs, fruits, and vegetables.

The early writings are almost silent about the place of Indigenous Knowledge in

missionary education. However, literature shows that the knowledge had its place in the

pedagogical process of transmitting the new knowledge. For example, Tavola (1991)

believes that the overwhelming response to mission schooling was attributed largely to

the socializing process used by the Fijian and Tongan missionary teachers. Tavola

claims that children chanted lessons in unison to the same rhythm as the traditional

chants while the Wesleyan mission itself (later known as Methodism) became part of

the Fijian culture without displacing it. Likewise, the communication process used in

reading and writing employed Tongan and Fijian, the languages familiar to the

indigenous people at that time (Calvert, 2003; Derrick,2008; Garret,1994).

22

When John Hunt, James Calvert and Thomas Jaggar arrived in December 1838 to

reinforce the work of the missionaries, the basics of the formal education system was

ready to spread to other parts of Fiji, particularly, Rewa, Bau and Somosomo, where the

powerful chiefs lived (Garret, 1998). According to Calvert (2003), the pioneering

missionaries left Lakeba on the recommendation of the chief Tui Nayau who preferred

to see other powerful chiefs change first before he did. Followed later by Cargill, Mr

Cross left Lakeba in 1837 and settled in Rewa.

The Roman Catholic missionaries became active in establishing schools in 1844. While

the Wesleyan missionaries provided basic education in more scattered settings such as

homes, temporary sheds and outdoor spaces, the Roman Catholics offered a more

centralized academic education (Tavola, 1991). By 1868, the Marist missionaries had

established Catholic schools which were available only to a selected few.

Although the work of missionaries deserve exaltation for ending horrific cultural

practices such as cannibalism, wife strangling, inter-tribal warfare, polygamy and the

like, it does play a role as well in the alienation of Indigenous Knowledge from the

formal education system. Through education, the missionaries have been accused of

legitimizing the knowledge and world view of a foreign culture, their own European

culture, at the expense of the local indigenous cultures and knowledge systems (Smith,

1999; Nabobo-Baba, 2005; Tavola, 1991). This accusation may be justified when

considering the claim by Harvey (2009) that the natural starting point to establish and

legitimize a culture in any society is through the educational practices used.

2.3 The Colonial era and education

By the time the British government formalized its official cession papers in October

1874, numerous social and economic changes had taken place. Cannibalism had

generally ended and the majority of the population had become Christians. The Fijian

language was already written in the Bau dialect and most of the adult population was

nominally literate (Derrick, 2008). One of the first moves of the British colonial

government was to establish a policy of ‘indirect rule’ which implemented tribal

administration on indigenous lines. With a successful record in Africa and elsewhere,

23

the colonial policy reorganized the Fijian society and created a second tier of

administration at the provincial and village levels under the authority of a chief. The

indirect rule created an additional source of power for the chiefs and left a lasting

impact on all aspects of Fijian life including the educational development of the

indigenous people (Tavola, 1991).

The lasting impacts of colonialism on indigenous education has attracted academic

interests and writing during the last century (Baba, 1989; Tavola, 1991; Altbach and

Kelly, 1978). For example, Baba (1989) examined the impact of Australia’s

involvement in education and Christian mission work through aid assistance and found

that the values of the aid donors continued to dominate the curriculum in schools.

Tavola (1991) explored the impact of socio-economic and school variables in

determining educational achievements in secondary schools and found that schools

continued to mirror the community they served. Both studies agree that the common

goals of the community was to pursue career opportunities in a modernizing world.

Such pursuits were also a profound reflection of changing values in the Fijian society.

In terms of education, the changing values can be explored through Altbach and Kelly’s

(1978) frame of Classical Colonialism, Neocolonialism and Internal Colonialism.

Classical Colonialism

Altbach and Kelly (1978:1) define classical colonialism as the ‘nation-to-nation

domination’ and its effects on the development of education. In the context of

development trends of higher education in Fiji, Nabobo (1996) refers to classical

colonialism as a period when a nation dominated another and consequently influenced

its educational development. Baba (1989) claims that the period, when traced back to

the 19th century, is marked by paternalism. Colonizers enjoyed a paternalistic position

from which their hegemonic arms shaped education, a trend already established by the

early missionaries. In examining development in higher education, Nabobo (1996)

marks this period in Fiji to be between 1874 – 1916.

Colonial education was mainly geared towards assimilating the indigenous people into

the colonial systems (Tavola, 1991). An earlier claim by Altbach and Kelly (1978:2),

24

asserts that education in the colonial schools reflected the power and needs of the

colonizers by training clerks to staff the lower ranks of the civil service only. This was

true of indigenous Fijians who were educated to fill the bottom rung of the colonial

administration (Nabobo-Baba, 2006), while the top administrative positions were filled

by the colonizers themselves. Baba (1996) refers to this differential process as

‘education for containment’ where the elite (both colonizers and local chiefs) used

schooling to keep the indigenous commoners and the poor in a subjugated role.

Education for containment was reflected for instance in the establishment of Queen

Victoria School in 1907 when it catered specifically for the sons of chiefs while the

provincial schools around the country were open to Fijian commoners (Tavola, 1991).

However, both schools were financed by the Fijians themselves.

Apart from causing divisions between the elites and non-elites; the colonizers and

locals; the colonial administrators held the power to decide who was worthy of their

education and what type of education they received. According to Altbach and Kelly

(1978) this attitude created dualism; two distinct school systems for the colonizer and

the colonized. When referring to the first 30 years of colonial rule in Fiji, Tavola

(1991:11) notes that the government had no commitment to the education of the local

people and yet provided schools for European children in the towns of Levuka from

1879 and Suva from 1883. According to Nabobo-Baba (2006), the attitude of the

colonizers was coloured to some extent by the assumption that the indigenous people

were generally beyond educability, and in the case of indigenous Fijians, academically

unsuitable. Later on when the colonial government began to intervene in the early

1900’s, the indigenous Fijians were given a watered down version of what the

colonizers’ children were getting, a curriculum model offered to slum dwellers back

home in England (Altbach and Kelly, 1978). Nabobo-Baba (2006) confirms that the

education model left the native Fijians marginalized as their history, education system

and language were distorted, reshaped and re-written by foreigners.

With the colonizers’ needs as key focus in schools, it is not surprising that the colonial

schools were far removed from the realities of the indigenous people. Altbach and Kelly

(1978:3) claim that:

25

…in the colonial situation the school was detached from indigenous cultures in the languages and in the social values they taught. Colonial schools were set up as alternatives rather than as complements to the colonized’s educational practices. Colonial schools never held out the prospects of integration into indigenous culture by those who attended them; neither did they prepare the colonized for leadership in their own society.

As classical colonialism dominated Indigenous Fijian education, changes were

inevitable, beginning with the missionary education that moved from the village setting

to an abstract location away from the community. Foreign knowledge took on the

limelight while Indigenous Knowledge receded as noted by Nabobo-Baba (2006:20):

..missionaries emphasized the three R’s: reading, writing and arithmetic. No longer were traditional skills, worship and knowledge promoted; the new faith promoted new life. Indigenous Knowledge and epistemologies were altered, denigrated and relegated to the realm of the unimportant.

The classroom was saturated with the English language as more time was spent learning

it, while the Fijian language became less important. A similar situation in the Indian

experience will throw some light to the Fijian dilemma:

..the Indian school boy’s mind was saturated with English. So much time was spent in mastering a foreign language that often the main purpose of education was missed. Despite all this effort, what most students picked up was a smattering of indifferent English and a tendency toward mechanical repetition of half-understood sentences.

(Altbach and Kelly, 1978:61)

Internal Colonialism

Internal Colonialism refers to a period that involved a group or subgroup dominating

another within the group. Altbach and Kelly (Ibid:20) refers to internal colonialism as

the domination of a nation (defined geographically, linguistically, or culturally) within

the national borders of another nation-state by another group or groups.

26

While rooted firmly in classical colonialism, internal colonialism brought together the

colonized. The colonizer, often called the dominant power in the case of internal

colonialism, proceeded in many cases to redefine the nature of the colonized group,

calling them “culturally disadvantaged “or “underclass” (Ibid).

Such categorization perpetuated colonialism by allowing the dominant power to retain

its position, keeping the colonized at the disadvantaged end of the spectrum. The

‘culturally disadvantaged’ position of the colonized was further divided into ethnic

categories through the discriminatory approach used in the services of local

government.The financial assistance available through the Grant-in-aid scheme, for

example, ensured discriminatory access to education on racial lines(Nabobo, 1996),

with differential emphasis in curriculum for Fijian and Indian schools. Tavola (1991)

notes that the period from around 1917 – 1940 saw Fijian schools specifically adopting

agricultural and practical based curriculum while the Indian schools generally secured

their footing in the scientific curriculum.

Neocolonialism

Altbach and Kelly (1978) define Neocolonialism as the continuing domination of the

industrialized nations over the Third World. The authors further note that in this phase

or stage, education is dependent on an international network for knowledge creation and

distribution. This network takes the form of books, journals, films, educational advices,

experts circulating knowledge and even students travelling beyond their own countries.

Participants in the network include various institutions such as publishing firms,

multinational corporations, international agencies (e.g. UNESCO, UN, IMF) radio and

television programs and educational institutions. In Fiji, the growth of international

networks was marked as well by an increasing number of secondary schools and its

enrolments during the period 1940 – 1970. The period also saw the setting up of higher

educational institutions such as Nasinu Teachers College in 1948, Fiji School of

Agriculture in 1965, Fiji Institute of Technology in 1963, Pacific Theological College in

1966, Fiji School of Medicine in 1961, and the University of the South Pacific in 1968.

The rationale for establishing these institutions ranged from providing technical and

vocational manpower to encouraging research (Nabobo, 1996). As the neocolonial

27

structure was firmly established, the coloniser’s knowledge gained supremacy and

Indigenous Knowledge continued to be relegated to the subjugated knowledges.

2.4 The Post Colonial Era The post colonial period (from the middle of the 20th century), witnessed a major shift

towards reorienting and repositioning Indigenous Knowledge in academia. The shift

was inevitable as the period experienced consequences of clashing cultures that became

a major theme in most post-colonial discourses. Postcolonialism views education as the

controling arm that creates modern individuals and equips them with skills and

knowledge necessary for “taking off” from a traditional society to the supposedly

“ideal”modern society (Brym and Lie, 2005).

The view that regards IK as obstacles to development for example, had offended many

post-colonial thinkers, who view modernization and not IK as the main cause of

economic disparity in our societies (Agrawal, 2005; Sillitoe, et.al, 2002). In the search

for solutions to the devaluing and stifling of indigenous knowledge today, a re-look at

education may provide a way forward. Interestingly, education had emerged out of the

period of Enlightenment in the 18th century when questioning and reasoning were used

as methods of inquiry for unresolved subjects (Warren, 1992; Usher and Edwards,

1994). According to Ashcroft (2001), the Enlightenment philosophy was simply an

extension of modernity. Considering that modernity viewed indigenous knowledge and

ways negatively, it is not surprising that the indigenous paradigm has struggled to fit

into the system of formal education.

Postcolonialism views the process of colonization as being one of oppression where the

colonizers forced their foreign values on the colonised. But when the colonised

population finally gained independence, the colonial relics were still deeply integrated

in the natives’ minds and were supposed to be removed. Consequently, as part of the

global move to undo the impacts of the past, attempts have been made to reposition

indigenous knowledge in education. In the Pacific region, there are inspiring works by

academics that are already available and were catalysed by ‘the Rethinking Pacific

Education Initiative’ in 2001 (Thaman, 2010b). Scholars and researchers including

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Professor Konai Thaman on a ‘culturally inclusive curriculum’, Associate Professor

Unaisi Nabobo-Baba on understanding indigenous epistemologies and ways of

knowing, Professor Linda Smith on decolonizing methodologies, Associate Professor

Kabini Sanga on indigenous leadership and cultural misfits, and many others, have

continued to make substantial contributions towards improved understanding of Pacific

cultures, languages and knowledge systems. The challenges have pushed researchers to

look at alternative strategies to approaching education in the Pacific (Sanga& Thaman,

2009; Sanga& Taufe’ulungaki, 2005).

According to Thaman (2010a), such works focus on the realization that Pacific teaching

and research frameworks are influenced by the awareness that indigenous peoples

formulate knowledge differently from their Western counterparts. In her keynote

address to the launching of AlterNative at the Auckland University of Technology on

22nd September, 2010, Professor Konai Thaman advocated,

the need to re-think Pacific education in light of Pacific values, people and their cultures.. the need for (Indigenous), leadership training (mainly for young people); sharing of innovative ideas and experiences (using old and new ways of communicating); and, acknowledging and valuing Pacific research processes and frameworks.

(Thaman, 2010a:10)

The post-colonial era therefore is marked by a realisation that the racist, imperialist

nature of colonial relics need to be exposed and deconstructed, a process widely known

as decolonization. Thiong’o (1986) claims that decolonization must start with the mind

and should involve a conscious decision to uncover, uproot and remove western

imposed values and beliefs which have been ingested through colonial encounters for

centuries. The conscious decision involves an understanding of the notions of

‘othering’, ‘hybridity’ and ‘voice’ which are central to post-colonial thinking.

Othering

The notion of ‘other’ refers to the subjugated culture and knowledge in the making of a

dominant culture. The ‘othering’ mentality can be traced back to the history of

imperialism. Imperialism swept across many parts of the world in the early 17th century,

when European empires set out to expand their territorial boundaries. Imperialism

29

brought waves of Europeans including Dutch, Portugese, British and French to many

regions of the world and left lasting impacts in the lives and values of indigenous

societies (Smith, 1999; Beaglehole, 1968).

Critics of imperialism point to the bulldozing tactics of early discoverers or ‘invaders’

in undermining indigenous lifestyles and social structures during pre-contact times

(Oliver, 1989). Early European records portrayed the indigenous people, as some

discovered ‘artifacts’ to be presented to their King. The following record on the

discovery of the Pacific Ocean by Vasco Nunez de Balboa on September 25th 1513,

suggests this attitude.

How natural it was therefore to call this new expanse the Great South Sea: and Balboa waded into the water and claimed it and all the continents and islands it washed and all it contained for his master the King of Spain (Beaglehole, 1968:15).

Such records offend indigenous scholars for they challenge our notion of authenticity as

indigenous peoples had existed on our land with an intact lifestyle before they even

sighted us.Disgusted by this thought, Smith (1999) expresses that ‘we did not ask, need

or want to be discovered by Europe’. In addition, their imposed notion of being

‘sovereign’ in powers, assumed that all land and resources was empty until their

county’s banner was planted to proclaim legal ownership (Sillitoe et.al, 2002:24).

Ashcroft (2001) indicates that European explorers interpreted ‘blank’ spaces in the map

as places to be filled with names and to be ‘developed’ by colonizers. Such attitudes

were formalized in maps. The land of Tasmania for example, named after the Dutch

discoverer Abel Tasman was proclaimed Van dieman’s land (Beaglehole, 1968), a

move that ignored local Aboriginal names. Likewise, other places such as Bligh waters

of Fiji, Cook Straight of NZ and Torres Straight between Australia and New Guinea

bear the names of early discoverers who navigated those waters, attached their names

and completely disregarded any names the local people may have used to refer to those

spaces (Beaglehole, 1968; Derrik, 1957; Oliver, 1989).

The imperialistic mentality set the ideal environment for colonial structures, language

and the school curriculum to further subdue indigenous people as the ‘other’. The

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notion is reflected in the bias accounts of indigenous history where the documenting of

events is selective on the knowledge of indigenous culture. Such records can be

misleading for they silence the past and miss out some very important events about

indigenous people (Spivak 1988). The early records of Pacific dressing by missionaries

and early European settlers, for example, have generally painted a picture of nakedness

and promiscuity on the indigenous wearers (Colchester, 2003). In describing his

clothing, William Lockerby, an abandoned sailor living in Bua in 1807, recorded that he

went ‘naked’ with only a belt made from the bark of a tree round his waist and also

found the local Fijians to also dressed in the same way (Thurn et.al, 1987). In another

misleading record about Fijians, Cook and Rodriguez noted that:

‘the young women who had not yet borne children….removed from their bodies the great lengths of cloth to be presented, until they were …. stripped bear’ (Colchester, 2003)

‘Stripping bear’ was a sign of respect for chiefs; it was an act of humility; it

conveyed modesty; and, it was the appropriate thing to do in affirming relational

connectedness (Ravuvu, 1987; Colchester, 2003). While the interpretations of

clothing differ, it is clear that the early records led to misconceptions that favored

western interpretations.

Western interpretations have further framed the indigenous mentality by unconsciously

excluding the students’ cultural knowledge and background from school systems

(Nabobo-Baba, 2005). Budding up as a rhizome, the colonial root structure was

effectively anchored through language and texts used in schools. Students were taught

the colonizer’s language when they first entered school; for Pacific people it was either

English or French. School rules demanded the compulsory use of the colonial language.

Language was complemented by texts that students used. Such tactics had far wider

implications than the practice itself. According to Ashcroft (2001), the language used in

writing is a powerful cultural vehicle through which a world audience can be reached.

In the case of the colonizer’s language, the text books became an effective medium in

framing the mentality of the colonized audience.

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According to Nabobo-Baba (2005), the ‘othering’ mentality is worsened when

indigenous students do not see themselves in the school texts they use everyday. I recall

the first book I ever read in English carried white characters such as Mr Joe, Mrs

Cuddy, a white cat called Miss Tibbs and even a round white pig called Mr Willy. The

only black characters in the reader were Shokolockobaggoshay and Moti Lewa. While I

naturally identified with Shokolocko and Moti Lewa and longed to know more about

them, they only appeared once or twice as kitchen hands.

Such readers formalized ‘otherness’ and presented opposing categories of people such

as black and white, slave and master, higher and lower classes. This social phenomena

is what linguists term ‘dichotomy’ (Chorn, et.al, 2004). Dichotomy in texts portrays

families of white as the norm and black families as the ‘other’. Colchester (2003), a

post-colonial anthropologist, claims that this attitude was established from the time the

missionaries and colonizers first brought in their literature. With the early Europeans as

norms, the white culture became the only culture the colonized indigenous people read

about and aspired to be.

Hybridity

Otherness is closely associated with the notion of hybridity (Nabobo-Baba, 2005) which

is often viewed as the product of Europeanizing indigenous people. Macaulay describes

the hybridity of Indian natives as..‘aclass of persons, Indian in blood and colour, but

English in taste, in opinion, in morals and intellect’ (Loomba, 1998). The process of

hybridity produces racial disparitywhich perpetuates between the dominant and the

subjected. According to Fanon (1986) the racial gap is linked to an inferiority complex

that is characteristic of subjugated people. The inferiority complex drives the

indigenous person to renounce his blackness and elevate himself to become whiter by

speaking the language of the white and imitate things white. Fanon further expands that

as a result of the racial gap, a black man behaves differently with his own people and

with the white man. This psychological reaction, noted by Miller (2008) as ‘depth

ontology’, is a Western idea of being where the real person is inside and what we see is

superficial. Therefore, Fanon’s notion of ‘black skin, white masks’ describes depth

ontology appropriately in that the black person’s white behavior is indeed superficial.

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The principle may also explain the Fijian’s two contrasting worlds of the traditional

way and the western way of life (Tarabe and Naisilisili, 2007).

The discussions above suggest that indigenous people have been led to live in a world

that is alien. We have renounced our real world to live in one that was the making of

our colonizers and missionaries. Smith (1999) blames us, the indigenous people for our

disposition as for too long, she assents that we have allowed our histories to be retold

and not written. We have allowed others to define us and not by ourselves (Ibid). These

are grounds on which indigenous people and their subjugated knowledge must earn a

space where it matters.

Voice

A key goal for post colonial thinkers is clearing a space for multiple voices. This is

especially important for those ‘voices’ that have been suppressed and silenced by

dominant ideologies, what Spivak (1988), an Indian post-colonialist thinker refers to as

‘the subaltern’. Spivak claims that space for the subalterns must first be cleared within

academia before any substantial change can be evident. Much debate has since taken

place regarding ways to effectively and fairly incorporate the subaltern voice into

academic discourses.Some postcolonial thinkers believe that the way forward is to

speak on behalf of a group while using a clear image of identity to fight opposition

(Spivak,1988; Smith,1999; Thaman, 2005; Nabobo-Baba, 2006). Using this approach,

bell hooks alerts his white readers on the notion of ‘marginality as a site of resistance’

and writes:

This is an intervention. A message from that space in the margin that is a sight of creativity and power, that inclusive space where we recover ourselves, where we meet in solidarity to erase the category colonized/colonizer. Marginality as a sight of resistance. Enter that space. Let us meet there. Enter that space. We greet you as liberators.

(hooks, 1990: 343)

Some post-colonial theorists have cautioned the perpetuation of the indigenous

problems when the two sets of knowledge - the dominant knowledge sets and

marginalized ones are studied as binary opposites. Bhabha (2004) for example, has

33

argued that the post-colonial world should allow spaces of mixing as strategy to

challenge colonialism. However, critiques of Bhabha’s idea caution the danger of

underrating Spivak's popular notion of essentialism. Essentialism promotes an

organized ‘voice’for a more powerful challenge to dominant knowledge in academia.

On the same token, Fanon (1986) suggests that the collective action and ‘voice’ would

stimulate collective pride and at the same time free the oppressed from their inferiority

complex.

2.5 The Feminist Stand Point Theory

In line with the postcolonial notions of freedom of the oppressed is the Feminist Theory

which is also critical in nature. bell hooks (1984), a black American who grew up in a

small Kentucky town, explains the need to include rather than oppress the views of

black American women because:

Living as we did- on the edge- we developed a particular way of seeing reality. We looked both from the outside in and from the inside out. We focused our attention on the centre as well as on the margin. We understood both. This mode of seeing reminded us of the existence of a whole universe, a main body made up of both margin and centre. ......we were a necessary, vital part of that whole…

(hooks,1984: preface)

Such an alternative world view has allowed post colonial thinkers to challenge sexist

oppression and other forms of oppression in our societies. hooks further claims that the

biggest challenge is in the practice of domination rather than the oppression itself as

most people are socialised to accept domination. As a result, there is a sexist bias in

terms of knowledge representations. Harding (2004) claims that the generation of

knowledge is generally male oriented as knowledge is socially constructed. Such a

claim stems from Freud’s psychoanalytic theories that maintain that gender is a psycho-

social construct rather than biological. The psychoanalytic view promotes gender

inequality as a product of early childhood experiences, which form the basic belief

about male masculinity and feminine classifications. Such dualistic distinctions are

further maintained by a social system that is dominated by males. Critiques using the

feminist stand point for example, are critical of the thought of associating the body

34

solely with women and men with the mind. The notion of the body (and not the mind)

promotes women as property, objects, and exchangeable commodities as in the

changing ideologies of fashion, diets, exercise programs and cosmetic surgery. hooks

again sums it up well by noting that:

The formation of an oppositional world view is necessary for ...struggle. This means that the world we have intimately known, the world in which we “feel” safe, (even if such feelings are based on illusions) must be radically changed. Perhaps it is the knowledge that everyone must change….

(hooks, 1984:163)

Indeed it is the knowledge that promotes social inequities that must change. Some of

this knowledge has been generated by the dominant western culture and must change.

As indigenous people struggle with their knowledge to be counted in academia, the

feminist notion of an alternative world view is useful and needs to be seriously

considered for the eradication of inequalities in society.

2.6 The School and the Community Any discussion on the issue of knowledge and the alternative worldview inevitably

situates itself on the school and the community. The school is the institution which

generates knowledge that is either disseminated or rejected by the community.

According to Sprague and Zimmerman (1993), knowledge being a form of power,

creates false dichotomies which empower a dominant group to spread their ‘truth’

unchallenged. Such ‘truths’ are disseminated through schools which, according to Paulo

Freire is an institution that “perpetuates social inequities while serving the interests of

the dominant group” (Sadker et.al, 2008:326). The Brazilian educator accuses the

school as a site where the status quo of the rich and powerful are uplifted in order to

keep the masses submerged and content in a culture of silence. Freire further claims that

the way out for the mass is to acquire skills to liberate themselves from systems that

lock them into poverty and the school could play a big role in this exercise (Ibid). This

view recognises that the school is a site of struggle for power and promotes that

schooling can be a liberating force for the poor.

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Power is closely associated with the presence of a dominant group which keeps the

demarcated groups of people suppressed despite resistance. From such a position, the

dominant group often claims the ‘right’ to exercise authority and to implant the view

that such a right is deserved (Kalberg et.al, 2005; Bishop, et.al, 1999). Weber (1958)

claims such authority to be manifested in three forms - the rational-legal, traditional and

charismatic authorities. I will attempt to discuss each against the knowledge that

prevails in the school and the community.

Rational-legal authority

This type of authority is supported by rules, regulations, laws and statutes. Weber

(1958) claims that a belief in such enacted rules and the rights of those elevated to

authority positions, is accepted with obedience on the part of those ruled. In the village

setting, the authority of the state is accepted unquestioningly by the people. The state

working through the Fijian administration exercises authority in terms of levies, village

projects, workshops and lately, village by-laws.

As for the school, the Ministry of Education works through the Head Teacher and the

Senior Education Officer to get their agendas through to the community. The rational –

legal authority also influences the attitude of the ruled in many ways. According to

Langdon (2009), the biggest challenge for indigenous educators is that “we have

internalized our own version of segregation and students respond by resisting what they

perceive as assimilation”. (Langdon, 2009:98). In other words, indigenous students

choose not to pursue a formal academic education for fear of having to choose between

a predominantly western culture and their own cultural identity.

Traditional authority

Weber (1958) believes that such ‘rulership’ is based on an established belief on

traditions which legitimizes those who exercise authority under them. The village

setting has traditional chiefs as leaders. The position of authority, which is inherited, is

often accepted with reverence from the people that are ruled. The traditional leaders’

36

authority is based on the vanua which is the basis of the indigenous Fijian people’s

culture.

Charismatic authority

The charismatic leader is someone who is most influential in the community. Weber

sees the person to be someone with an extraordinary personality that inspires people and

accepts her/him as leader. The most likely leaders in this category is the Head Teacher

and the church leader (reverend). They influence the community by way of the most

modern ideas and innovation as well as the church leader getting the inspiration from

God.

An understanding of the forms of authority explained above will help in understanding

the status of knowledge that prevails within the school and the community. It also helps

in the examination of the issues of the ‘other’ and how they can be given a ‘voice’ in a

study such as this.

2.7 Summary

This chapter has provided an overview of the place of indigenous knowledge and

education through history by considering their status under the pre-colonial, colonial

and post-colonial era. The chapter has highlighted the past as a history forced onto the

colonized with implications on the indigenous knowledge systems today. The greatest

manifestation of the colonial and missionary influences is found in the schools where

the subjects taught, the language and learning experiences are different from what

students use in their homes. Very often, it is the global design of western thoughts that

becomes the sites of conflicting and power- laden relationship with indigenous

knowledge.

The Feminist Standpoint Theory has particularly been important in providing the

critical position this study has taken. It is from this standpoint that the issues of IK and

education have been explored and as a result the indigenous ‘voice’, a collective ‘voice’

37

of the Cu’u people has claimed a space in this thesis and therefore in indigenous

debates. Revelations by the indigenous ‘voice’ has allowed us to see that what outside

people regard as the ‘other’ set of knowledge, is simply regarded as important

knowledge within the indigenous circle. From the feminist standpoint, one is further

enlightened with the issue that the paradigm promoted in the school is completely

different from the realities experienced in the cultural settings of indigenous students.

The indigenous voice has pointed towards the need to rethink ways of addressing

cultural differences through ‘collective consciousness’ or in Smith’s (1999) term,

‘decolonisation’ in order to allow indigenous people to define educational agenda.

Hence, the current study attempts to answer the question ‘What is regarded as

important knowledge in an indigenous Fijian community and how can this valued

knowledge be included in the content and pedagogies of schools?’ In answering this

question it is necessary to explore the indigenous knowledge system in the vanua of

Cu’u, and consider it against the knowledge system advocated by the school. The

context of the study is presented in the next chapter.

38

CHAPTER 3

STUDY CONTEXT: THE ROAD TO CU’U

3.0 Introduction

The purpose of this chapter is threefold. First I will attempt to describe how I came to

choose my study topic and its context – Indigenous knowledge of Cu’u. I will then

provide some background to the place and its people, including the factors that

influence and shape their worldviews; and, finally the resilience of the people of Cu’u

as a catalyst for community development will be discussed. Resilience is a quality that

has developed out of the necessity for survival and continuity in this remote and rural

environment.

3.1 Searching for Meaning

I am not quite sure whether I found my study area – Cu’u or it found me. My current

struggle as a professional woman who faced redundancy from a university job is not

uncommon among indigenous people caught between two worlds – the western or

modern world and my own indigenous world. My job as a lecturer was the pinnacle of

my career. I chose teaching many years ago on the advice of my parents because the job

(apart from nursing) carried within it the dignity expected of an educated woman. I lost

a substantial amount of that ‘dignity’ in August (2009) when the ‘slaughtering blade’ of

the university readjustment program took effect!

Redundancy stripped off me a power that defined my lifestyle for many years – my

bills, my movements and my ‘shopping’. However, in the community I am part of,

redundancy seemed to have crept in ‘un-noticed’. For example, the size of my

household doubled with extra members from the extended family; contributions to the

village oga (obligations) continued to increase, and the arrival of daily ‘dependents’

became more frequent. I live amongst my husband’s village community, and society

looks to me, the wife of a lecturer at the Fiji National University, to contribute to almost

everything that goes on in the village. As an educated woman socialized into the

western paradigm, I am wondering if people understand that I am redundant and am not

39

getting a professional salary any more. On the other hand, I understand that the

community regards me simply as Seveci’s wife, and it is my duty as a woman to uphold

his social standing by contributing to societal obligations and responsibilities.

My interest in indigenous knowledge arose out of my desire to better understand

myself as I grapple with the myriad of issues entailing my situation. I grew up in a tu

galala4 home in Cu’u, a remote and rural setting in Udu. As a separate settlement away

from the main village of Waini’a, my tu galala home separated me from my relatives.In

search for meaning, I realized that tu galala was a colonial construct that encouraged

individualism (Tarabe and Naisilisili, 2006).

In my growing up, I aspired for western knowledge and ways but missed out some of

the important basic things that have meaning to the people of Cu’u. For example,

learning the art of weaving ‘iluvatu(ee-loo-vah-too),the special mat of Cu’u,

appreciating the relational space that bond people in the tribe, the knowledge of

veiwe’ani (relationships), the caring of other people through ta’ita’i or to experience the

inclusive nature of the large tribe I am part of. These qualities spell my identity and

define my space of belonging. They were also the indigenous knowledge and skills that

were suppressed and treated unimportant by colonizers. In the case of tu galala, the

structure fitted in well with the colonizers’ attempt to smother the indigenous world

and its knowledge (Tarabe & Naisilisili, 2007; Ravuvu, 1987; Durutalo, 1986).

While tu galala impacted only a small section of the indigenous Fijian community, the

more influential tool with far greater implications was the school. The structure of the

school was designed to promote western knowledge and values (Whitehead, 1981).My

aspiration for western knowledge was well grounded in the school during my early

years. Schooling demanded that we left the village boundaries and climbed up a hillin

order to reach Wainika District School. The physical location of the school meant that

the school knowledge and all the related activities were going to be different from the

things in the community. Indeed they were different.

4A settlement away from the main village setting.

40

The activities were compulsory and also regulated by clock time. For example, it was

compulsory for students during morning assembly to say our pledge as the Union

Jack(British flag) was raised. This meant saluting with our right hands across to the left,

at full attention and reciting our pledge – the flag stands for our country, the people and

democracy, in which we are all united through the person of our queen, with all other

members of the commonwealth. This was then followed by the commonwealth anthem.

Pin drop silence was the norm in school assemblies, as we had so much reverence for

the Queen. For all of us, the closest we ever got to the Queen was sighting her photo in

the headmaster’s office and also the one hung at home next to Ratu Sukuna’s

photograph; Ratu Sukuna being a prominent Fijian figure in colonial Fiji.

We also had rigid schedules to adhere to. There was time for recess, lunch and end of

every session. The schedules were different from our home where the meal time was

determined by the completion of the task of cooking. I remember clearing the

headmaster’s flower bed a few times, as punishment for arriving late from my tu galala

home. Home schedule was regulated by the activity rather than the clock time. Such

routines inculcated in me the belief in the goodness of the colonizer’s knowledge and

ways, sadly at the expense of indigenous knowledge, values and ways of doing things.

In the school, I remember feeling very uncomfortable when our teacher told us to talk

and speak up individually. I could only talk aloud when we had to sing out together our

times table during Arithmetic class. Our song sounded like this. Two, two ones are two,

two twos are four, two threes are six …and so on. Our teacher also encouraged us to see

him if we did not understand anything. I chose not to see him although I did not

understand a lot of things he taught. Now I understand that indigenous children learn

not to bother teachers with questions, as asking would show disrespect (Valdes,1995).

Furthermore, learning for indigenous children, is embedded in a social environment in

the presence of elders and other related people (Sanders, 1989).

Today many years after independence, the colonizer’s influence is still intact in the

school system. The Pacific curriculum is rooted in the colonizer’s worldview and

upholds westernvalueswhich often contradict indigenous values (Thaman, 2009). For

example, the western world defines an economically productive person as one who

41

accumulates the most, while a productive person in the indigenous world is someone

who shares his wealth. The western culture promoted in the school is generally

disconnected from kinship relationships and encourages individualism in its teaching

goals. As a result, the goals of independence and individual success are emphasized in

schools (Rothstein-Fish and Trumbull, 2008). These goals are contradictory to the

goals of collectivism that are upheld by indigenous societies such as those found in the

Pacific. Such contradicting goals contribute to dilemma in the indigenous world.

Now as I look back at my experiences, I see the forces of modernity at work in the

society, in the school structure, in the curriculum and in every dimension of life. Can

education become more responsive and open to other ways of knowing and being? As I

ponder on this question, I am left with the fear that if the answer is ‘no’, then education

will continue to facilitate the alienation of indigenous people and their knowledge as

well as the continuation of colonial legacy. This search for answers has inspired me to

examine Cu’u, the path that led me to and justifies this study and its context.

3.2 Cu’u environment and history

The people of Cu’u live in the villages of Waini’a, Vatu, Gasauva and Yasawa. The

villages are located within the 180 degrees International Date Line which runs across

the tip of Udu Point atthe northern part of Vanua Levu5. Udu was included in the world

map after Abel Tasman first sighted it in 1643. Tasman’s reference to the place as

being surrounded by ‘reef – infested’ waters aptly describes its geography today

(Derrick, 1957: 13). Udu Point, locally known as ‘Ucu ni Potu’ is characterized with

reefs and rugged hilly terrains. The point narrows to a stretch of approximately 2-3 km

separating Natewa Bay and the Babasiga coasts. The Babasiga coasts are rocky with

dry ‘talasiga’ soils that mainly grow reeds and pandanus or ‘balawa’ plants. Both sides

of the peninsula are fringed with narrow strips of reefs while at the end tidal flats extend

from 5-10 km beyond the land. This long stretch dictates to boat captains a long

rounding route in order to pass the point at low tide.

5the second largest island in the Fiji group.

42

The four villages in the study are located along the Natewa Bay side of Udu Point. Each

village is dominated by rugged and hilly terrains with a high range of mountains called

the North-East Ranges, standing about 2km from the shores. When describing the

coastal features of Natewa Bay, Derrick (1957) notes that the North-East Ranges stand

some 8km inland at the bottom of the bay and crowds in upon the shores of Udu. The

mountains in the southern part of Natewa Bay are therefore farther inland while they are

closer in the coastal areas of my site of study. The range of mountains are rocky without

plateaus. This explains why the people in the study have settled closer to the coastline

despite the crowding mountains. The villages are situated close to the shore lines where

there are narrow strips of alluvial soil available for planting and flat land to build

houses.

Most of the flat land is occupied by coconut plantations. The plantations were

introduced by colonizers in the early 1870’s when there was a high demand for export

of copra. Coconut plantations took up more farming space when the coconut industry

expanded with the Hamburg Firm of Godeffroy’s sun-drying introduction, a quick

option for drying copra (Derrick, 1957:164). The method was later developed into shed-

drying by heat which is the method commonly used today. As the coconut plantations

took up most of the space for farming, the rest of the alluvial land left is only sufficient

for subsistence farming rather than commercial. Crops such as cassava, dalo and

bananas are quite common. Yams and Tivoli are getting rare to find as they are

normally reserved only for special occasions.

Cu’u is at the windward side of the point and receives frequent rainfall. The place is

also subject to open gusty winds called the sobusobu which may accelerate into a sa (a

hurricane). These winds occur when the north east trade winds are diverted over high

passes among the ridges behind the coasts (Derrick, 1957: 237). The winds discourage

small sailing boats from passing through the Udu Point.

From the geographical location discussed above, the four villages in the study -

Waini’a, Vatu, Gasauva and Yasawa are remote places. Colonizers found Udu Point to

be off the regular shipping routes, so the place was seldom visited ( Derrick, 1957: 237).

Professor Tupeni Baba who comes from the village of Waini’a, describes the

43

remoteness of these villages as the ‘remotest among the many remote villages’ in Fiji

(Baba, 2008:58). To access any of these villages, you have to get to Waingadru port

first by bus. This is usually a 3 hour bus ride from either Labasa or Savusavu towns.

From Wainigadru, the villages are accessible by patipati (outboard boats). The boat ride

usually takes 1-3hours depending on one’s destination. The cost of this patipati ride

ranges from 60 – 200 dollars, again depending on how close or how far the destination

is from Wainigadru.

Although the four villages are far apart, people still move from one village to another

to visit relatives. The visits are usually motivated by customs of sharing and

reciprocity that are part of kinship networks. Kinship has been noted to be the driving

force in movement amongst rural and remote communities (Memmott et.al, 2004). In

Cu’u, spatial distances are disregarded as people commute from one village to

another in response to obligations towards kinship ties .

3.3 The origin of the Cu’u people.

The people in the four villages are part of a social group called the yavusa and the

yavusa is called Cu’u. The people of the Yavusa of Cu’u have kinship ties that can be

traced to their common link in ‘U’ula, an ancestoral figure regarded as a ‘vu(origin)

and refers to an ancestor. Knowing your vu is an important aspect of being Fijian as

the vu serves to be a reference point for relational ties and social connectivity

(Ravuvu, 1987). While ‘U’ula is now perceived as a mythical figure, he was a vu

tamata or real person at the beginning. He was different from the kalou vu or god

called Qiarewa. ‘U’ula was the sixth and youngest child of Ro’ovu’elevu from

‘Oroivoco, the village now known as Tawa’e (Makulau, 1926).

After seeking his father’s approval to look for his own land, ‘U’ula moved north and

settled in Cu’u. Here, ‘U’ula’s four sons Gagavo’a, Tugia, Tuiqoromata’a and

Sainituwawa were born (Figure 2). As customary practice, each of the sons was

allocated a yavu (house site) which carried names that still exist today. Gagavo’a’s

site was Cu’ulevu, Tugia, was allocated the site of Muanaica’e, Tuiqoromata’a had

‘Oroisavu’a and the youngest son Sainituwawa lived in the yavu called Udu. After

44

living in Cu’u for a long time, the village population increased and the four yavu

became the basis for four mataqali which formed other subgroups called to’ato’a.

Each mataqali had a specific function in the social setting as shown in Figure 1.

Like other Fijian people’s histories, the ‘ai Cu’u as they called themselves, kept

dispersing and moving around as a result of conflicts. For example, a veisei (conflict)

resulted in a split that caused a section of the mataqali of Cu’ulevu to move to

Wainigadru where they settled. Descendents of this faction are still living in the village of

Wainigadru today.

According to Aisea Makulau who provided the above information orally to NLC, the

mataqali Cu’ulevu was divided into two groups in the fourth generation. A group which

was led by Tevita Nauluca remained in Cu’u while the other that was led by Koroi

settled in Waini’a. Koroi remained the overall Tui Cu’u for the yavusa at the time of

recording Aisea’s report. The record by Makulau through NLC was the first written

record of the people of Cu’u. The information was strongly contested by a section of the

mataqali, because it was claimed that Koroi was the Tui Cu’u instead of Tevita

Nauluca. Despite the controversy surrounding the above report, records written by

‘others’ show some validity in Makulau’s story (Na Mata, 1886, 1889,1890, 1898).

Written evidence show that places that were inhabited in the 1800’s no longer exist

today. For example, the villages of Cu’u, Moala, Nu’ubalavu and Muanaica’e are now

extinct. Instead the villages of Waini’a, Vatu, Gasauva and Yasawa have remained.

The influence of the colonial administration brought a succession of media highlights

on Cu’u. At the time of session in 1874, the yavusa of Cu’u were spread out in the

villages of Cu’u, Waini’a, Nu’ubalavu and Muanaica’e (Makulau, 1926). Fifteen

years after session, the Fijian journal Na Mata recorded that the Governor of that time

visited the Udu peninsula and slept in Cu’u (Na Mata, September, 1889). Again there

was reference to Cu’u as a village when some visitors got sick from eating

contaminated meat of a dead pig offered to them by the Cu’u villagers (Na Mata,

June 1898:86).

45

Figure 1: Social groups of the original Cu’u community

(adapted from Makulau, 1926)

46

Figure 2: Cu’u people’s origin &line of Tui Cu’u (chiefly family tree)

(Reconstructed from NLC records, community stories & personal experiences)

47

The Na Mata also reported on incidents that happened in other villages in the tribe of

Cu’u. For example, a vanarua (steam boat) ran aground at Yasawa (Na Mata, April,

1886). Another report by the Na Mata read that some people in the village of Moala

suffered from gaga (poisoning) after eating sea weeds (Na Mata ,December, 1890: 6).

According to the Makulau’s report through NLC, Moala was a village occupied by the

mataqali of Udu who later resettled by joining families in Waini’a and Yasawa. For

the people of Cu’u, their way of life remained relatively undisturbed even after the

initial colonial encounters.

3.4 Early socio-political encounters

The socio-political development of Cu’u depended on a few factors. First, by 1900 the

village boundaries of Waini’a, Vatu, Yasawa and Gasauva were already established by

the colonial administration. Second, in 1901, the Mataqali of Udu moved to Gasauva

where their descendents have since settled (Makulau, 1926). The mataqali lived in

Waini’a and Udu before 1901. Another factor which affected the socio-political

development of Cu’u was the measles epidemic in 1903 that shocked the whole of Fiji

because of the great number of deaths in the country (Haggett, 2000). The epidemic led

to the migration of people from Cu’u to Waini’a as the population dwindled (Makulau,

1926).

The greatest impasse that left a lasting imprint on the history of the people of Cu’u is

their own tragedy in the vonu gaga incident. The story of the vonu gaga has continued

to touch the lives of many generations especially when the physical sites and graves

have remained as evidence of the past.

This is the story of Cu’u’s tragedy– the vonu gaga story.

On Saturday 24th July, 1906, Viliame Lomaloma, Isikeli and Netani found a turtle with

the most unusual behaviour. Its head was submerged in water while the tail end was

afloat. The turtle did not struggle to free itself when Viliame approached to catch it. The

huge catch was soon received with enthusiasm by the villagers. When the meat was

prepared for the lovo (earth oven), it was found to be striated, an unusual characteristic

of vonu (turtle) meat. In spite of this abnormality, the turtle meat was baked in a lovo

48

while the blood and other trimmings were cooked for the villagers’ immediate meal (Na

Mata, September, 1906). It was soon evident that the striated vonu meat was not safe for

consumption.

The next day Sunday 15th July , Josike died in Cu’u. He was the child of Ilimo and

Paulini. Following Josike’s death were the death of two babies. The first baby was

Merelesita- Manasa and Kalusi’s daughter. By midnight, Serevina had died. She was

Viliame Lomaloma and Lili Sawakasa’s child. Both babies died from drinking the milk

of their affected mothers. More people died in the span of a month. Altogether, 67

people suffered from food poisoning while 15 people died. Details of the death toll is

shown in Table 1.

Number Died

Babies 2

Children 5

Women 5

Men 3

TOTAL 15

Table 1: Details of death from the Vonu Gaga

(Adapted from Na Mata, September, 1906).

While most of the victims were from the village of Cu’u, records show that people from

Waini’a, Vatu and Yasawa also ate the vonu meat and died (Na Mata,September, 1906:

137). The distance between the villages from Cu’u are quite significant, yet it did not

deter the people from sharing the vonu meat. The custom of veinanumi or sharing as in

this case the sharing of food, is a relational way that speak of love and care. Sadly, this

49

unique cultural expression of love became the vehicle of tragedy for a tribe. The people

of Cu’u continue to regard this incident as the most important part of their history.

Now more than 100 years after, the story of the vonu gaga is still remembered with a

lot of awe and emotions. People of Cu’u still refer to the massive loss of people in a

very short time. It is an eerie phase of their history that they would opt not to share. The

fatality of the event is shown in the expressions used by the people as they retell the

story. Words such as bulu va’avudi (a number of people buried in one grave), tagi yaso

(continuous cry of mourning) and vele (curses) imply the depth of emotions and

seriousness that link the descendents to their past.

3.5 The new era in an old site

The vonu gaga marked the beginning of a new era where the village of Cu’u slowly

disintegrated till it became no more. The surviving inhabitants dispersed to Waini’a and

other villages in the yavusa or tribe. Some 30 years later, my father Vereniki Voro

returned to build his home on the site of the old village of Cu’u and has remained the

only home till today.

I remember the mysterious features of the environment I grew up in. The coconut

plantation was full of raised land blocks marked by layers of vatu or stones. The sites

bore bushes of sacasaca (crotons), uci, drove (ginger), bua (frangipani) and other

ornamental plants normally found around inhabited dwelling places. I was not sure if

these were old house sites or graves of those who died in the vonu gaga incident. The

burial site up the hill was full of old graves safely sheltered by huge mango trees that

have survived for centuries. My grandmother Kuku Kalusi told me that the hill was a

sautabu (sacred graveyard) and no one was allowed to eat mangoes from the mango

trees. Breaking the taboo would mean getting bati qeqera or losing your teeth. I noticed

that the cows that made use of the mangoes every season did not lose their teeth. As a

little girl, I was very baffled.

I also recall waking up every morning to help my mother Atilina Meke prepare

breakfast. The long flames reaching out from the black castor iron stove meant that

breakfast was being rushed for us, the school children. I almost could see the content of

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the boiling saucepan as I knew it was the usual ‘topoi uliuli’ (dumplings). The boiled

flour dough sweetened with sugar, was the fastest breakfast my mother could prepare. I

also noticed that my two older sisters, Divui and Disau would be busy preparing another

breakfast dish. They were either grating coconuts to make scones or roti va’alolo or

they were frying well rounded pancakes for those who remained when we had left for

school.

I wondered why we had to live far from the school and eat ‘topoi uliuli’ almost every

day. I thought of my friends in the village, Loraini and Losana who did not have to get

up so early and rush to school. I wanted to be like my cousins Vilimone, Tunoa, Sulu’a

and Vili Fonolai who shared the same breakfast with everybody else in their

households. They did not have to make do with a rushed breakfast in order to be in time

for school. These relatives lived in Waini’a, the site of the school.

However, as a child, every morning, I had to leave the white wooden building that was

my home to attend the Waini’a District School. Leaving home meant passing through

the fence that separated home from the cows. The 5-6 rows of barbed wire were firmly

nailed to buabua (fragrae gracilipes) posts. They were a normal feature of my tu galala

home. Like the barbed wire that separated home from the cows, tu galala was a colonial

structure that separated me from my relatives. Consequently, it became the most

influential factor in my life. I grew up feeling isolated and alienated from my relatives

in Waini’a. I thought I did not belong to the main group in the village. I felt like an

appendix to the main Cu’u community.

However the route I took after school was always exciting. First there was no need to

rush back home from school. I could take my time and va’akalia (deliberately staying

away to miss out on family chores), reaching home when preparation for dinner was

almost over. I was free to sit and talk with my cousins Miri, Cago and Mae at the top of

the hill which was our cegucegu (resting place). My cousins were Tata Limo’s children

who lived in Waca, the other ‘tu galala’ home (settlement) next to Cu’u. The

motivation to reach the cegucegu was itself a strengthening experience for my ego. I

later realised that the daily struggle up the hill was a metaphor for my life. I learnt to

persevere and push through comfortable limits in order to reach the top of the hill. For

51

me and my siblings, we knew the top of the hill for our school journey was high up

there somewhere. We had to reach it no matter how difficult things were. Nevertheless,

the old house sites that was part of my track to school everyday was like a mysterious

thread of my history that had its links to the vonu gaga.

I had questions about the tragedy, but no one lived to explain it. My own grandmother

Kalusi who lost her baby Merelesita in the incident, did not talk much about it. She

watched her own relatives suffer and died about her. She shared many “tutu’uni”

(legends) with us, her grand children, but the details of the vonu gaga were never part

of those tutu’uni.

So when I grew up, I was not sure whether the vonu gaga story was real or a myth. In

fact I realise I was not alone. My younger sister Akanisi Sobusobu found the mystical

element of the vonu gaga story to be the motivating factor in writing the short story

“The Taboo” (Sobusobu, 1977). At Form 6 in Labasa College, she wrote the tragic story

as her way of resolving the open ended ‘mystery’ of the vonu gaga. She used familiar

characters in the story. Manasa, the name of our grandfather, was the protagonist and

an adolescent who was the sole survivor in the tragedy. He was earlier punished by

Setareki (an uncle in real life) under the instruction of the village elders, for fishing in

the taboo area one early dawn.

However when the villagers later found a vonu (turtle) swimming in the same taboo

area, they killed it and had a feast. Manasa was away in the bush hunting when the

villagers ate the vonu and when he came back in the evening, the whole village was

empty as everyone had died from eating the vonu gaga (poisoned turtle). So Manasa

stood alone in the village wondering whether the death was caused by the gaga (poison)

or was it because they had broken a tabu (taboo). So for Akanisi, the open-ended

mystery of the vonu gaga was imaginarily sealed for ever.

The oral and written records of the history of Cu’u given above provide a glimpse of the

kind of life the Cu’u people experienced in the past. This history form the worldview

and attitude of the people of Cu’u. The people are resilient in the most difficult

52

situations and they are self motivated. Part of their make up is being able to do things

without reliance on aid from external sources.

3.6 Current Social Setting

Now more than a century later, the physical places and settings have remained as reminders of

the past, although altered. The original village site of Cu’u is not a big village anymore but a

tugalala settlement where my father, a descendent of Senibuli (Figure 2) raised his family. The

site has remained our family home today.

Senibuli’s younger brother, Koroi settled in Waini’a. After the vonu gaga and measles

incidents, Waini’a is now the main village and is the home of the Tui Cu’u who is the head of

the yavusa or tribe (Figure 2). Waini’a has three to’ato’a or subgroups. - Cu’ulevu, Vatumabu

and Cu’ule’utu. The Tui Cu’u comes from the to’ato’a Cu’ulevu. My family that lives in the

old site of Cu’u are part of Cu’ulevu. However, while the rest of the Udu people who lived in

Waini’a moved to Gasauva in 1901, Kuku Uga’s family from the to’ato’a of Yavu, opted to

remain and continue fishing for the Tui Cu’u. Note in Figure 3.1. members of the mataqali of

Udu were traditional fishermen. Kuku Uga’s descendents have remained part of the village

ever since. They are now part of the to’ato’a of Cu’ulevu.

The people of Muanaica’e have settled in Vatu with only two out of the five original to’ato’a

(Figure 1). Muanaica’e and Beleni are the only two sub-groups left. The other three original

to’ato’a Naviu, Koronibelo and Vunisisici are now extinct. In the last two decades or so,

families have chosen to live away from the village, resulting in two tugalala settlements, Nu’u

and Waqaite’eya. Nu’u which began as a single family home is now a large settlement with 4

related households. They are connected to Cu’u through their maternal line but they are

descendents of Kuku Jiale, a grandfather from Rotuma. The Nu’u people are part of the

to’ato’a of Muanaica’e. Waqaite’eya, the other tugalala settlement, is situated about 5

kilometers from Vatu. The families settling in Waqaite’eya are descendents of Kelepi Mawa

and Isikele Simeke, the brothers from Ci’obia who chose to settle on their ‘ovu’ovu or mother’s

land allotment. This type of land often remains with the maternal descendents for ever and in

this case, Akisi Loaloavura’s descendents will continue to live in Waqaite’eya. The settlement

now accommodates three households. They are part of the to’ato’a of Beleni.

53

The mataqali ‘Oroisavu’a settled in Yasawa. They are descendents of Tuiqoromata’a, the third

son of ‘U’ula (Figure 2). Like Muanaica’e, the mataqali of ‘Oroisavu’a is now left with only

two out of the five original to’ato’a. The two surviving to’ato’as are ‘Oroisavu’a and Nadalice.

The people of ‘Oroisavu’a are warriors. Today their role as warriors becomes prominent when a

Tui Cu’u dies. The warriors dressed in traditional costumes, would be armed with clubs as they

ensure that the funeral protocol matches the funeral for a chief.

The people of Gasauva belong to the mataqali of Udu who are descendents of Sainituwawa

(Fig.1), the youngest son of ‘U’ula. Although Gasauva is the newest setting in the Yavusa of

Cu’u, as people only settled there in about 1901, most have lived together all the time. The

people of Udu settled in two separate settings. Some settled in Nukubalavu, while others settled

in Dociu, both sites close to the Udu point, until they were forced out causing them to disperse

in 1865 by GM Henry, a businessman who owned a shop in Somosomo. Mr Henry acquired

1,740 acres of the Udu land from the Tui Cakau in payment for his debt (Baba, 2011).

The arrangement was done without the consent of the people of Udu. My mother Atilina Meke

was from the mataqali of Udu from the to’ato’a of Yavu. In their reluctance to leave their

village, my mother’s relatives were forced by the ‘ai vavalagi(whites) to flee using brutal

techniques. Later, some Mr Hill’s men agitated their herd of cows and bulls by firing wild shots

in mid-air. In the process, the animals charged into the village, making the villagers flee for

their lives. By the time they returned the villagers were guarded by the ‘ai vavalagi with guns.

In this way, Mr Hill and his men kept moving their boundary from the original allotment, until

the natives had fully left their land. According to Baba (2010) such treatment did not go

smoothly with the natives. The indigenous people resisted, for some of them this costed them

their lives, and others were imprisoned in Waiyevo, Taveuni in 1886. The Udu villagers who

were Sainituwawa’s descendents and my mother’s relatives later learnt that their land had been

converted to a colonial structure known as ‘freehold’. Consequently, the people of Udu moved

to Waini’a and Moala while others dispersed to other parts of the district. They resettled in

Nagasauva in 1901 and the village became the official site for the Mataqali of Udu in 1926

following the Lands Commission. The Mataqali is now left with only three out of four original

to’ato’a - Udu, Yavu and Ligau. Figure 3 below provides a summary of the social groups that

exist in the four villages as well as the social roles or functions they hold.

54

Figure 3: Current Social groups in the four villages of Cu’u6

Athough the Yavusa of Cu’u ends with Gasauva, the relational ties continue like an

unseen line to other Yavusa’s as well. Evidence is seen in the language and craft of the

people who have a link to us. For example, from Vuni’odi to Qaranivai in the Macuata

Province, people speak the same language as us and weave ‘iluvatu as the people of

Cu’u do. Likewise, from Tawa’e to Saqani, our languages are basically the same.

Relational ties or veiwe’ani are reinforced during deaths and weddings by the presence

of those who turn up to the gathering. In other words, veiwe’ani or vanua relationships,

are treated seriously by indigenous Fijians and form an important part of being Fijian

(Nabobo-Baba, 2005; Tuwere,1992; Ravuvu, 1987).

The four villages are part of a larger system in the Fijian administrative hierarchy. It is

linked to the district or tikina of Tawa’e, which in turn is linked to the larger province of

Ca’audrove. The traditional role of Cu’u is to supply ‘iluvatu (special mat) and yaqona

6The Mataqali above correspond to the villages of: 1. Waini’a 2. Vatu 3. Yasawa 4.Nagasauva

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(kava) to traditional gatherings held at any level of the hierarchy. The continuous supply

of ‘iluvatu to these traditional gatherings is a reason why skills in weaving ‘iluvatu are

not lost .

Social systems

There are three main social systemsthat are operational within each Fijian village –

the vanua (community), the matanitu (government) and the lotu(church). Each system

has its own hierarchy but operates with the vanua as the central point for actions as

illustrated in Fig.4.

Plans & needs

Strategies & action

Figure 4: Social systemswithvanua as central reference point

The vanua

The vanua hierarchy is headed by the Turaga ni Mataqali(chief of the Mataqali) who

has an ascribed status. The Turaga ni mataqali manages the traditional roles and

obligations of the village. Any issues concerning the vanua, comes through the

Turaga ni Mataqali who also gives the final approval to decisions made at the village

level. The vanua is the backbone of the village life and it is the arm on which the

government and the church depend on to translate plans and needs into actions (Fig.

4).

The Government

The Fijian administration which is an arm of the government is represented in the

village by the Turaga ni Koro or village headman. He has an acquired role, and means

that the holder of the position may change according to the needs of the community.

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The Turaga ni Koro handles the day to day administration of the community. His

responsibilities range from overseeing the general cleaning up of the village to

collection of levies for the province or soli ni Yasana. He also organises village

meetings. Any external matters such as government or official visits are conveyed

through the headman. The Turaga ni Koro receives a monthly allowance from the

government.

The Church

The people of Cu’u are Christians. About 80% of the people are Methodists. The rest

have joined the Christian Mission Fellowship (CMF) which was introducedinto the

villages in the last decade or so. The structure of the Methodist Church dominates in

each village. They come under the tabacakacaka or working cuircuit of Tawa’e where

the Talatala (Reverend) lives. Tawa’e comes under the bigger circuit or wasewase of

Biaugunu. The church is represented in each village by a ‘Qase’ or elder who looks

after the functions of the church. Yasawa is the only village that has a trained Qase

called a Vakatawa. The Qase is helped by a Tui Rara who organises church routines

and Sunday services. Any communication from the church will reach the village

through the Qase. The Talatala visits the four villages every month to conduct Holy

Communion which is an important practice for Christians. During these trips, the

Talatala is accorded the highest treatment through special meals and accommodation

by the congregation. While the three structures discussed above have a clear way of

communication with the Vanua as the operational arm, they all operate within the

limits of the geographical location of the villages as discussed earlier.

The geographical distance and the cost of travel from one point to another make it

necessary that an efficient administrative grouping is in place. For example Waini’a

and Vatu are always grouped together and Gasauva and Yasawa form the other group

because of their close proximity. This setting leads to the sharing of resources to

accommodate the common needs of the community. For example the two schools

Waini’a District School and Vatuvula District School cater for the needs of children

in the two groups. During church functions the two groupings also become functional.

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However, there is always a discussion on the choice of venue which has to be right

and be in line with Fijian protocols.

There are important Fijian protocols that define the way the Cu’u people organize

themselves. As shown on Fig. 1, the Cu’u Yavusa of four brothers, Gagavo’a, Tugia,

Tuiqoromata’a and Sainituwawa became the origins of the four mataqali in the Cu’u

of today. Their seniority continue to be respected and shape the way people perform

and behave. Within this context, Waini’a (where the descendents of the older

generation live) is normally given the first opportunity to host events rather than Vatu.

At the far north, at Yasawa (where the descendents of Tuiqoromata’a live) the first

opportunity is given to them rather than the descendents of Sainituwawa, the younger

brother. This principle is known as veiva’aliuci (allowing the older person to lead as a

sign of respect). Tuwere (2002:31) explains the principle to be one of the cultural

institutions that bind the three Fijian confederacies together. It works through one

group according the other a higher rank than itself.

3.7 The economic setting

Cu’u’s economic activities are hampered by the lack of arable land for commercial

farming. With population pressure over the years, the repeated use of land in the area

allows very little time for the fallow period to recover soil nutrients. This means that

the soil for planting has been exploited and does not allow for maximum yields. The

scarcity of land is further aggravated by the vast space taken up by coconut trees.

Coconut is the only commercial crop in the area, but the declining cost of copra and

the diminishing yields of the century old crop, makes copra a non-viable resource

today. Given such limitations in the geographical environment, the people of Cu’u

have continued to ‘look within’ for solutions to match new demands in our changing

lifestyle.

The demand for a more productive economic lifestyle has come with modernisation.

Schooling has taught people at a very early age that the bula va’avavalagi or modern

living is an alternative lifestyle. People also know that education will provide for

better jobs and a better life compared to that of the older generation. Given the

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ruggedness and isolation of Cu’u, bula va’avavalgi has come to be an attractive

alternative for people in the community.

Within this modern context, formal education has become the most important goal for

every parent in the Yavusa. However, accessing education continues to be problematic

for most people given the limitations in commercial activities and resources. This is

complicated by the increasing cost of education in the last decade (Tuimavana, 2010).

For the people of Cu’u, there is continuous pressure to send young people to school.

However, this means extra costs for parents. For example, demands by the local

primary schools for pens, paper and text books means that extra costs on the shopping

trip has to be accounted for apart from the cost of the materials. This would normally

amount to between $100 and $200 for the travel only. There are separate demands

from those who attend secondary schools. Most attend boarding schools in Labasa,

Savusavu or Suva.

It was this critical state of affairs that drove the people of Cu’u to look for an

alternative arrangement which has resulted in an initiative called Balawaviri’i, a

solisoli (gifting of land) from the vanua of Seavaci. The name Balawaviri’i is derived

from an old Fijian belief that when a person died, his spirit would travel to Ucu ni

Potu and throw at a specific balawa plant with a tabua (whale’s tooth).

It was customary to place a tabua known as ‘vatu ni balawa’ or pandanus stone in the

coffin to equip the spirit for this journey. If the ‘stone’ hit the target, the spirit was

free to travel on to eternity. If not, the spirit remained on earth. This belief has been

replaced by the Christian version of eternity which is heaven and hell with the belief

that anyone who accepts Jesus as Lord will go to heaven while those ‘without Jesus’

go to hell.

3.8 Balawaviri’i: a vanua philosophy for economic sustainability

The Balawaviri’i farming project is a unique example of how a group of people,

disadvantaged by their geographical location and relief, have been able to resolve their

economic woes through the process of Vanua relationships. The solisoli (gifting of land) is a

manifestation of the indigenous values of veinanumi

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(thinking of others), veirairaici (looking after other’s needs), reciprocity and loloma

(compassion for one’s kind). Through the Balawaviri’i farming project, people of Cu’u have

maximised their opportunities and resolved their economic constraints. Balawaviri’i is an

icon of success for Cu’u youth today.

Balawaviri’i is a 1,000 acre piece of land that was given as a ‘gift’ to the people in the district

of Tawa’e to farm. The arrangement which provided space for commercial farming activities,

has transformed the lives of many in the Cu’u tribe. The farming arrangement has upgraded

standards of living and quality of life for almost every family in the Cu’u Tribe. The land

belongs to the mataqali of Ravinivatu in Seavaci, a settlement off the main village of

Korotasere. About 40 km from Savusavu, the land is helping hundreds of farmers to access

the quality of life that would have remained only a dream if it was not for the wisdom and

foresight of two ‘veitavaleni’ (brothers-in-law) in 1985.

Sekaia Teilai and Simione were sharing their concern for the lack of aerable land back in the

village when a distant relative and a mataqali land owner, was moved to help. The land

owner, Luca is related to Simione through a generational link to Namuka, in Macuata and

also to Sekaia through his wife Camari Teilai, also Simione’s sister. Simione was the Mata-ni

ti’ina (Tawa’e District Representative) in the Ca’audrove Provincial Council at that time and

the talanoa (conversation) was going on while waiting for the provincial meeting in

Savusavu. Simione was to raise a motion in the Bose ni Yasana (Provincial Council

Meeting) to kerekere (request for) some land for the tikina of Tawa’e. Immediately Luca told

his tavale (cousins in law) that he was giving the people from the tikina Tawa’e some land for

planting. It was a verbal arrangement, which was formalised in the meeting later.

After the meeting in 1985, the two men with their immediate families started planting yaqona

and dalo on the land. They were joined 2-3 years later by people from the five villages,

Tawa’e, Waini’a, Vatu, Gasauva and Yasawa. Four years after the land deal, the people of

Cu’u visited the mataqali Ravinivatu with gifts of mats, pigs and root crops to show their

appreciation in the vanua way.The giving away of land as a gift or soli va’avanua ni qele is a

traditional Fijian philosophy that was commonly practiced in traditional societies before

colonization.

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Balawaviri’i now accommodates more than 100 farmers who plant yaqona (piper

methysticum) and dalo (colocasia esculanta). These crops are sold in Labasa and Savusavu

markets. Through the arrangement, the farmers are able to send their children to school in

town and at the same time they are able to meet traditional obligations back in the villages.

For example, when there is a death or wedding back in the village, the farmers normally

contribute money, dalo and yaqona to the gathering. In other words the relocated people in

Balawaviri’i are still an important part of the village functions as they send remittances back

home when the village elders call for it.

Apart from remittances, the farmers have built modern houses in the villages to replace the

bures (thatched houses) which were common features of the past. Some of them have bought

patipati (outboard motors), for ease in travelling. Many can now afford other lifestyle

machines such as chain saws, generators for electricity, DVD players, washing machines and

gas stoves.

3.9 The place of Education in Cu’u

Education is a highly sought after goal in the life of the Cu’u community. Such is the

importance placed on education that someone who has very little schooling is degradingly

referred to as tamata “no school”. On the other hand a well educated person is highly

regarded as a tamata vu’u. The seed of education was planted many years back in the 1800’s

by missionaries.

One of those who benefitted from missionary education was my own grandmother, Kalusi

‘Auvou. She was born in 1878 and survived the vonu gaga tragedy in 1906. Through the

missionaries, Kuku Kalusi learnt how to read the bible. I remember watching her read the

black book with a ravelled cloth covering. She spent most of her old age days reading the

bible without glasses. Her secret in keeping her sight was a few drops of fresh lemon juice

into her eyes – a treatment she claimed kept her vision clear.

Many other members of the tribe benefitted from this early missionary education. For

example, Baba (2008) records that his mother, Letila Misi, a member of the Cu’u tribe, was

trained by missionaries during their Sunday classes. Although Baba is referring to a much

later date, one of the impacts of missionary training on indigenous people was valuing of the

new type of education they brought.

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My own father Vereniki Voro left the village very early in life in search for education. He

attended the Niusawa Mission School before attending the Davuilevu Technical School.

Under the tutorship of Mr Derrick, he acquired the carpentry skills which led him to a career

as carpenter. I remember at a very young age, accompanying my father to build houses in

neighbouring villages. These houses were funded by the lavo musu’i or copra subsidiary fund.

My father was later joined by Serupi Baba (Baba, 2008:58), at Davuilevu Boys School.

Serupi was known to be a person who was self sufficient and excelled in business ventures

(Ibid).

3.10 Lotu and the Vanua

The boundaries of Vanua for the Cu’u people are expressed in lotu or Christian faith (Tarabe

and Naisilisili, 2007). Faith is the underlying factor that defines the quality of their lives.

Prayer begins every function, be it a simple meal or a village feast, a soqo or a village

meeting. It is the deeper connection to God that stabilizes people. While people do not

openly talk about the goodness of God in their lives, people’s spirituality is normally gauged

by the way they show love in giving food, mats, money to help those in need and also by

cooperating with community work in the Vanua, school and church.

Since Christianity was introduced to the Cu’u people in the 1800’s, the worship of their

ancestral god “Qiareva” has ceased. Most people do not even know that such a Kalou Vu

(god) existed but people talk about Viti territorial gods such as Dakuwaqa and Degei.

Through lotu, the worship of these gods have ceased. However it is common knowledge that

some people worship these gods alongside even though they are Christians. These people are

regarded as tamata dauva’adraudrau or dauva’atevoro. Both terms are degrading. This is one

area where someone from Cu’u will readily severe his relational ties with someone who is

practising dauva’adraudrau. Christianity has been so successfully inculcated among people

that some of their cultural knowledge has been discarded because of their direct connections

to va’adarudrau. Christianity to a great extent, has made the balawaviri’i belief obsolete.

3.11 The Schools

The yavusa has two schools.Wainika District School and Vatuvula District School. Both

schools use the curriculum set by the Fiji Ministry of Education in Suva, Fiji’s capital, which

requires students to sit the 6th Year external examination at Class 6 and 8th Year examination

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at Class 8. Records show that both schools were established by the Fijian administration,

therefore carried the name District School which is still used today.

Waini’a District School was established in 1928 in Waini’a but it was shifted to Vatu 20 years

ago.The original name was Lawega but today it is Wainika District School. The school started

with classes 1-6 and the level remained this way for many years. In 1982, the school

introduced class 7 and class 8 was added the following year. Today the roll is 57 with

students coming from the main villages of Waini’a and Vatu. Other small settlements - Cu’u,

Nu’u and Waqaite’eya also send their children here.The children are taught by four teachers

who take composite classes with classes 1 and 2 together, with pairing continuing to Classes 7

and 8. The head teacher is a local woman from Vatu and has been teaching there for more

than ten years. Two of the other teachers are from other parts of Vanua Levu and one is from

the Province of Naitasiri in Vitilevu.

Children from Gasauva and Yasawa walk about 5km to attend Vatuvula District School every

day. Situated almost halfway between the major villages, the school has a roll of 37 students

(in 2010). The school is staffed by 3 teachers who run composite classes from classes 1 – 8.

None of the teachers is from the local community.

3.12 Summary

The wealth of information originating from Cu’u – the geography, history and evidences of

development in the area, point towards a people that are worth noticing. They are people who

have developed themselves in all areas of their lives. Economically they have elevated their

living standards enabling them to build solid houses, safe water supply, proper sanitation and

adequate electrical lighting systems in these remote and rural villages. Much of this

development has been the contribution of the youth of Cu’u through the Balawaviri’i farming

arrangement. For example, contribution of the Waini’a youth to the development of the

village was recognized by the Commonwealth Youth Programme and awarded them the silver

award in 2004 (Commonwealth Secretariat, 2006). Other achievements have been in

academic fields and professional bodies. There are doctors, lawyers, artists, nurses, teachers,

security guards, church ministers and politicians who have made substantial contributions to

the development of Fiji as a nation. For example, in Waini’a alone there are two holders of

the doctorate degree in the fields of education and science. There are also other members of

the tribe who hold advanced degrees in different professional fields.

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However, there is very little known about the people of Cu’u. In this regard, Cu’u seems so

insignificant that the place and its people are often identified as part of a bigger group rather

than being recognised for itself. For example, achievements by those who have excelled in

politics and education from the area are often highlighted as contributions of the main

province of Ca’audrove rather than the tribe of Cu’u. Even cartography has defined our world.

In the map of Vanua Levu, Tawake and Vunikodi are normally identified and the four villages

between them (the Cu’u villages) are often missed out. Media coverage of the area is also

rare. As a part of Cu’u, my study has been approached with the motivation to as well as in

academia. It is hoped that‘rewriting and rerighting our position in history’ (Smith, 1999)

would go some way in removing our status of ‘otherness’ and smallness and reclaim our

rightful places in academic discourses. The next chapter provides the methodological details

of the research.

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CHAPTER 4

STUDY METHODOLOGY

4.0 Introduction

This chapter contains two main parts: the first discusses the methodology and why

certain approaches were used; the second discusses the field-work and includes details

of the preparation, the key features of the fieldwork, and the actual fieldwork itself.

Conceptual Framework used

The qualitative paradigm is the overaching paradigm underpinning the methodological

processes and approach used in this study. Merriam (2009), defines the qualitative

paradigm as an inquiry process with an aim to study people, and their interactions

within their natural settings. While there are various research approaches rooted in the

qualitative paradigm, this research used ethnography which was found to be closely

aligned to the purpose of study. Ethnography is an approach which aims to provide a

detailed, in-depth description of people and their culture.

As an ethnographer researching my own community, I was more than obliged to protect

and respect the knowledge of my relatives and my ‘awa (geneology). Hence, it was

important for me to use a framework that governed vanua customs, protocols and ethics

to access vanua knowledge. The Fijian Vanua Research Framework (Nabobo-Baba,

2005, 2008) provided this guideline and fitted closely to the purpose of my study. For

the context of Cu’u, I am further guided by the ‘Iluvatu Framework which is designed

specifically for the community of my study. Both frameworks are underpinned by the

Post-colonial Theory and Feminist Standpoint. The conceptual overview of the

methodology is represented in Figure 5.

The framework design, a Fijian bure (house) depicts the indigenous nature of the

research. The roof represents the qualitative domain which is the overarching paradigm

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housing the rest of the approaches used in this study. The wall is a representation of the

ethnographic approach, the main methodology used.

Figure 5: A conceptual framework of my study methodology

The centre design is a mat called ‘Iluvatu which is spread out as a floor covering. The

mat is identified with the people of Cu’u and is used in this research as a metaphor for

the cultural values that form the foundation of the community. The cultural metaphor

will be discussed later in the chapter. The Fijian Vanua Research Framework (FVRF)

which is portrayed here as a Fijian vessel, supports the whole house including the

‘Iluvatu mat. The image of the Fijian pottery depicts the vanua, as the receptacle that

generates knowledge and holds the Cu’u culture including the special ‘Iluvatu mat.

Vanua played a central role in shaping the processes and product of this research.

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4.1 The Qualitative Paradigm

The qualitative paradigm is a broad framework for research. According to Khun (1970),

the qualitative research paradigm is characterized by its achievement in attracting

advocators away from competing modes of scientific activities, and at the same time it

is “open-ended to leave all sorts of problems for the redefined group of practitioners to

resolve” (Kuhn, 1970:10). The research paradigm is a powerful means of learning more

about our lives and the socio-historical context in which we live (Merriam, 2009).

Qualitative research aims to find out how people make sense of their world and

experiences. According to Hesse-Biber and Leavy (2004), qualitative research is an

‘interdisciplinary landscape’ that encompasses multiple methodologies and research

practices.

While the initial terrain of my search covered both the quantitative and qualitative

domains, the qualitative framework was found to align with my quest to answer the

main research question ‘What is regarded as important knowledge in an indigenous

Fijian community and how can this valued knowledge be included in the content and

pedagogies of schools?’ Various researchers agree that the research question should

guide the method used to answer it while the purpose and nature of research determines

the research methodology (Walsh,1996; Singleton et.al, 1993 and Strauss and Corbin,

1998).

Qualitative research is distinct in the sense that it is diverse and rich in terms of

methodological and philosophical grounding (Hesse-Biber and Leavy, 2004). Its

diversity is provided by the wide range of epistemological positions and theoretical

frameworks accessible within the qualitative domain.These positions are discussed later

under the different paradigms of research.

Focusing on the nature of data derived, Strauss and Corbin (1998), define qualitative

research as one that produces findings not arrived at by statistical procedures or other

means of quantification. Similarly, Hesse-Biber and Leavy (2004), refer to qualitative

data as non-numerical in nature. Such references have been made to distinguish

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qualitative researches from the more dominant research paradigm of positivism which is

firmly rooted in the quantitative domain. Under positivism, the social world can be

known methodologically through the use of objective instruments of measurements

operated by a neutral researcher. In addition, there is a hypothesis to be tested and data

would be presented in a table or chart form to pattern and predict the social world.

Critiques of positivism warn that such approaches create false dichotomies based on

knowledge which is a form of power (Sprague and Zimmerman, 1993). In this case, the

knowledge dichotomy empowers a dominant group to disseminate their ‘truth’

unchallenged. In the positivistic approach, the researcher is the knower who belongs to

the dominant group and the objects of research are the knowable. As a result, the

researcher and the researched operate on different planes. In contrast, the qualitative

framing used in this research removes the disparity by treating the object of research as

the knower. This means that the qualitative approach allows the researcher to develop

knowledge with the subjects they study and access knowledge from the different

standpoints the subjects represent.

Apart from the level researcher-subject platform discussed above, the qualitative

paradigm treats intellect and emotions as inseparable from the social world (Leavy,

2009). Emotion is normally played down by the positivistic approach as it assumes that

the researcher is neutral and free of emotions. In this study, it is important to integrate

intellect and emotions to add to the richness of the data collected. Such data would

normally be unattainable in neutral contexts. Furthermore, many qualitative methods of

inquiry (e.g. in-depth interviews and ethnography) rely on the development of

relationships between the researcher and the researched. The indigenous nature of my

study heavily relies on such a relationship.

Research Paradigms While a general understanding of the qualitative paradigm is useful, it does not fully portray the

different assumptions that underpin the approach and how these affect the research process. I

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will therefore attempt to show this relationship by exploring various assumptions that provide

the distinctions within the qualitative domain.

Grant and Giddings (2002) have noted that the background assumptions and values

differ for different approaches, but most of them tend to fall into the positivist,

interpretivist, radical and post-structural paradigms, including the emerging indigenous

paradigm. These paradigms provide conceptual frameworks for seeing and making

sense of the social world and positioning ourselves in a particular paradigm will help us

view the world in a particular way (Burrell and Morgan, 1979). This is why Patton

(2002:48) refers to paradigms as "world view". Paradigms shape how we perceive the

world and this is crucial in the research process as it will determine the research design,

the data to be collected and analysed as well as how research results are presented.

Paradigms also allow researchers to identify their roles in the process of research.

The Interpretive Paradigm

The interpretive paradigm assumes that ‘truth’ in a situation is found in the self-

understandings of participants, which the researcher interprets. Truth is discovered more

by thought than by observation (Khun, 1970). Such an assumption is rooted in

‘existentialist philosophies’(Grant & Giddings, 2002), a 20thcentury school of thought

that shared the belief that philosophical thinking begins with the human subject as not

merely a thinking subject, but also the acting, feeling, living human individual.

According to this philosophy, the individual's starting point is characterized by a sense

of disorientation and confusion in the face of an apparently meaningless world. It is the

meaningless world that draws interpretive researchers to study the social world and find

meaning in the way people, as active agents, construct their world.

Researchers generally focus on an individual’s actions or descriptions of experiences,

that are obtained as the researcher interacts with the participants in an attempt to

understand the meanings they attach to them. Examples of interpretive methodologies

include phenomenological research and grounded theory.

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While interpretive methodologies share the same assumptions in the way they view

truth, they differ in the way they see the world. For example, phenomenological

research generally uses the interview method and stays as close as possible to the

interviewee’s story when interpreting. The results would present a different set of data

compared to the Grounded Theory methodology which uses participant observation and

other data sources to find out what is happening (Strauss & Corbin, 1998).

The Radical Paradigm The assumption in the radical paradigm is underpinned by critical social theory and feminist

theories, both with critical orientations as discussed in Chapter 2. The radical paradigm is

characterized by the assumption that we live in an unjust world that needs to eradicate

inequalities in gender, ethnicity, class, age, sexual orientation and so on (Grant & Giddings,

2002). The approach is designed not only to explain social realities, but to change it, making a

clear distinction between theory and reality.

Radical researchers assume that social reality is a result of historical encounters that is

produced and reproduced by people. The approach recognizes that people can consciously act to

change their circumstances, but are constrained by various forms of social, cultural and political

domination. Radical researchers, therefore focus on and highlight the restrictive and alienating

conditions of the status quo in order to find ways of changing it (Myers and Klein, 2011).

The Poststructuralist Paradigm

The core assumption for poststructuralism rests on the idea that no one can be detatched

from the traditions or realities of their time. Sometimes known as deconstructivism,

poststructuralism is linked to key philosophers like Michel Foucault and Jacques

Derrida, influential figures in the twentieth century (Lather, 2006).

Poststructuralist researchers see people as subjects of interrelated systems and social

structures which serve mainly the interests of a dominant group. While the core of their

investigations centre around individuals and social relations, they focus more on the

‘self’ as constructs formed through language and its meaning (Macdonald et al., 2000).

The language and its meaning are therefore, used as indicators of a power-knowledge

relationship formed through what is said and thought, and even defines who has the

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authority to speak. Contemporary postsructurilist researchers seem to place a strong

emphasis on examining language, in the discovery of the ‘self’(Macdonald et al., 2000).

A research approach that was in the poststructurist paradigm would normally use

discourse analysis, a method aimed at revealing the hidden motivations behind a text or

behind the choice of a particular research approach to interpret that text. Although

discourse analysis may not provide absolute answers to a specific problem, it will

enable us to understand the conditions and assumptions behind a "problem". Macdonald

et al. (2000) have highlighted the use of observations and audio or visual recordings of

interactions as important methods used in discourse analysis. These are known to

capture interactions effectively and focus on what is said or not said, how the

participants position themselves, as well as the social and cultural consequences of the

observations.

The Indigenous Paradigm

While the paradigms discussed so far may position many researchers to study the social

world adequately, those studying indigenous people generally find it problematic to

capture the ‘truth’ about their subjects. This has led many postcolonial researchers to

suggest a fifth paradigm, the Indigenous Paradigm of research (Grant & Giddings,

2002). An Indigenous Paradigm is rooted in the fundamental belief that since

knowledge is relational in nature and is part of all creation, it can not be studied in

isolation. Indigenous research methods would reflect these beliefs and the obligations

they imply.

As discussed in the previous chapter, the critical approach taken in this study is

underpinned by the Post-colonial Theory and Feminist Theory standpoints to explore

and interpret the social world in the Indigenous Research paradigm. The approach has

allowed the research practice to cross paradigm boundaries and link with communities;

a process that has characterized the indigenous paradigm today (Grant & Giddings,

2002). The indigenous paradigm allows the researcher the freedom to move beyond

what is empirically known and apply theory during the research process. Researchers

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generally agree that generating and building theory in the course of research also helps

in the process of generalizing from the empirical data collected (Nabobo-Baba, 2005;

Smith, 1999).

Amongst the many research frameworks placed under the Indigenous Paradigm and

with which Pacific Island researchers are familiar, include Kaupapa Maori Research

(Smith, 1999), the Fijian Vanua Research Framework (Nabobo-Baba, 2005) and the

Kakala Framework (Thaman, 1992). These have been used successfully to capture

Pacific indigenous world views and in Smith’s words, “to make a positive difference for

the researched” (Smith, 1999:191). As for this study, an account of the ‘Iluvatu

Framework’ is included later in the chapter. While the research paradigms discussed

above may not suit all the “staggering array of concerns” (Lawler, 1998: 18), openness

to methodological possibilities would lead researchers to the right way (Grant &

Giddings, 2002). This openness was echoed by Kuhn (1970) earlier in the century, as a

positive force for commitment in solving problems in research.

4.2 Ethnography The term ‘ethnography’ literally means writing about a people (Johnson et.al, 2011).

This study was approached using ethnography. The approach is used in qualitative

researches where the intent is to provide a detailed, in-depth description of everyday life

and practice. The approach allows a researcher to describe the culture of the people

from their perspectives. As an insider researcher, ethnography enabled the researcher to

reach into the knowledge systems of the Cu’u people who were the holders of

knowledge in the research. Ethnography was therefore found to be closest to addressing

the purpose of this research which was to explore Indigenous Knowledge in the

community and find out ways of incorporating the knowledge in the school. In the

following section, I will provide a literature review of ethnography as background

information to the methodology.

Ethnography has been defined in various ways. As a research approach, Brym and Lie

(2005), posit that ethnography allows a researcher to enter the world of those studied

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and describe their way of life. In addition, Berry et.al. (2006), explain that the approach

provides rich holistic insights into people’s views and actions as well as the nature of

the location they inhabit.

Focusing on the methodology, Patton (2002:81) refers to ethnography as participant

observation that involves intensive fieldwork in which the investigator is immersed in

the culture under study. The methodology is described by other researchers as fieldwork

conducted for over a year (Maanen, 1996) and a portrait of a people by means of written

descriptions (Harris and Johnson, 2000). Denscombe (1995:184) adds the extra

dimension that it involves the 'observation of culture in situ'.

Historically, ethnography is an area of social science that branched out from

anthropology, the study of the origin and behavior of man and the development of

societies and cultures (Brym and Lie, 2005). Ethnography can be traced back to the

late19th and early 20th centuries when Franz Boas, a German born anthropologist

developed the idea that a culture should be understood in terms of its own beliefs and

history. He proposed that a holistic understanding of people can only be reached when

the focus of ethnography is on the context of culture rather than its mere structure.

While Boaz’s contribution influenced the development of ethnography for many years,

his view of research continued to be something conducted in exotic places, detached

from home (Neyland, 2008). From Boaz’s early works and others, Malinowski defined

modern ethnography to include spending long continuous amounts of time in the field.

Malinowski established the process of participant observation to include the mundane

everyday activities that constituted everyday life for people (Pole and Morrison, 2003;

Neyland, 2008). Since then, participant observation has become a central component of

ethnography.

Today, ethnography continues to be a widely used approach in qualitative researches.

Its popularity has generated increasing interest particularly in applied disciplines such

as education (Pole and Morrison, 2003).

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Beach (2005) notes that educational ethnography has developed from interests in the

way instructions are understood in schools, the way meanings are negotiated in

classrooms, how roles and relationships are developed and maintained over time and

how education policy is formulated and implemented in schools.This study has emerged

out of similar interests in the educational settings of indigenous Fijians.

4.2.1 Features of ethnography

The main feature of ethnography is participant observation (Johnson et.al, 2011; Brym

& Lie, 2005). Participant observation refers to researcher involvement in activities of

those being researched. Hammersly and Atkinson (1983) elaborate this by saying that

participant observation is ‘a mode of being-in-the-world characteristic of researchers’, a

key aspect of ethnography. Participant observation is supplemented by face-to-face

interviewing, research reflections also called journaling and analysis of archival data

(Hesse-Biber & Leavy, 2004). The data gathered usually takes the form of field-notes

but is often supplemented by audio and video data. In the ethnographic method, the

observer is immersed into the people’s activities with the purpose of describing and

deriving meaning from the people studied. According to Geertz (1973) the features of

ethnography may be summed up as follows:

Ethnography is naturalistic.

Ethnographic inquiries are based on the principle that studies should include real people

and their activities, operating in their natural settings. The approach is unique in that it

is unknown in advance of inquiry just what the relevant features of some settings are.

Ethnography rejects simulated environments and controlled versions of work, but

instead aims to study the natural environment of work and its activities.

Ethnography is prolonged.

Most ethnographic studies (e.g. for PhDs) require at least seven months to one full year

of field work. Other studies require more time depending on the purpose of study. The

prolongation is inevitable as ethnographers have no clear idea of what they will find for

the most part of the research. During fieldwork for example, it takes time to form a

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coherent view of what is going on when the researcher is confronted with contradicting

and perplexing aspects of data. This may become clear as the ethnographer has allowed

enough time to see a full cycle of activity or a set of events played out in the course of a

calendar year.

Ethnographic enquiries seek to tap into the social world from the point of view of those who inhabit it.

Ethnography is (should be) about uncovering the world from the point of view of the

social actors within it. For this reason, although it is behavioural - interested in the

detail of the behaviour and so on, the level of analysis is the significance of the

behaviour for those who undertake it, rather than the behaviour itself. Ethnography

focuses on the social organisation of activities and how this is accomplished,

understood and achieved by social actors.

Ethnographic data resists formalisation.

Ethnography stresses the importance of 'context' or 'setting', and thus there can be no

theoretical perspective to explain in advance what one is likely to see in a new setting,

nor any data which constitutes the 'right' data to be collected. Ethnographic data takes a

variety of forms and can include general descriptions of behaviours, descriptions of

physical layouts, close descriptions of conversation, thoughts and feelings about what is

going on, tentative hypotheses, examples, repeated occurrences, and so on. This makes

it rather difficult to filter data down to a structured form.

The primary emphasis in this study is on understanding the everyday, practical

accomplishment of life and education in the Cu’u community. As an ethnographer, I am

like Geertz (1973), in seeking to understand the community and the school, through

thick descriptions of the practical, everyday interaction of community life.

4.2.2 Validity and Reliability

A common criticism directed at ethnography and qualitative research in general, is that

it fails to adhere to rules of validity and reliability (Magoon, 1977; LeCompte et.al,

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1982). Although the terms ‘reliability’ and ‘validity’ are used for evaluating quantitative

research, the concepts are crucial in the evaluation of all kinds of research. In my choice

of ethnography as a methodology, I am aware that my thesis would finally be

scrutinized under the conventional rules of validity and reliability.

Various researchers support the validity and reliability of ethnographic researches. Ellen

(1984) has argued that qualitative researches have a high degree of validity and

reliability built into the research process itself. For instance, the accuracy of the

researcher’s knowledge and understanding can only be checked during the process of

data collecting. In this way, the researcher is challenged to demonstrate that she can

talk, see and do as the actors do (Ellen,1984). Geertz (1973) found this inbuilt aspect of

validity earlier when he referred to the word for word accounts of communication

presented in thick descriptions. The researcher advocates that thick descriptions are

close to the realities of the speakers. Thick description is now accepted as an important

analytical tool and framework used to support the concept of transferability which

allows other researchers to follow the processes and procedures used in field work

(Denzin and Lincoln, 2000).

Other researchers have argued that reliability and validity are woven into every step of

the inquiry through the verification process (Flick, 2007a; Creswell, 2009 and Kvale,

2007; Morse et.al, 2002). Verification is the process of checking, confirming, making

sure, and being certain of the rigor of research data. The key player in the verification

process is the researcher who needs to be reflexive throughout the research process. In

this study, the process of verification was done at the end of each day when the day’s

data was checked and sorted for further triangulation if required, reflective notes were

written and data sorted out for any recurring themes.

Reflexivity

The process of reflexivity is important to every ethnographer. According to Morse et.al

(2002) reflexivity is the process of reflecting critically on the self as researcher. It is a

conscious experience of the self as both the inquirer and respondent within the process

of research. Reflexivity allows the ethnographer to come to terms with the multiple

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identities that represent the fluid self in the research setting. Denzin and Lincoln (2002:

183) note that:

‘…although we have many selves we bring with us, those selves fall into three categories: research-based selves, brought selves, (the selves that historically, socially, and personally create our standpoints), and situationally created selves”.

Reinharz (1997) notes that researchers do not only bring the ‘self’ to the field, but they

also create the ‘self’ in the field. The position of the ethnographer therefore influences

the thick descriptions in the writing, the interpretations and also the interactions with the

subjects of research. In applying reflexivity, the ethnographer will consider the different

positions the knower (the holder of knowledge) understands the world – the emic and

etic perspectives. The emic perspective refers to the way the members of the culture

view their world--it is the insiders view. The etic perspective, by contrast, is the

outsider’s interpretation of the experiences of that culture. For a holistic understanding

of the people of Cu’u, it was important to assume both perspectives for reflexivity.

As insider My ‘insider’ position is very crucial in this research. I hold the view that understanding a

culture means getting personally involved in their activities and putting oneself in the other’s

shoes, in order to discern epistemological processes of thinking, actions and feelings. I am also

of the view that the issue of closeness to people and situations studied, is useful to our

understanding of the world from a researcher’s perspective. History shows that closeness to

sources of data made key insights to our knowledge base- for example, Piaget when he studied

his own children, Freud when he studied the patients he had empathy for and even Darwin who

had a closeness to nature (Patton, 2002). Similarly, in this study where the researcher is a

research tool and an insider, closeness will play a crucial role in the drawing of the knowledge

from the Cu’u community.

I have outlined in a previous chapter that I grew up in Cu’u, a tu galala settlement, and also a

colonial structure that separated me from my relatives in the main village of Waini’a. I was

socialised in the Cu’u terms during the first eleven years of my life and my schooling

experiences were also in the terms of my people. I am a Fijian woman and I belong to the vanua

of Cu’u that is now the subject of my study. Although I now live amongst my husband’s people

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closer to Suva the capital city, I keep a close link with my village relatives as I pay them visits

during Christmas and New Year breaks and also contact them by mobile telephones.

Rather than attempting to step outside the arena of activities to distance myself from the

research setting, I am speaking from within it, and being actively part of the world I am

researching. I am interested in exploring and capturing the richness of the Cu’u way of

life, the community I grew up in and I am intimately part of. As an insider, my approach

is consistent with Denzin’s (1989) philosophy in that as we are situated in the worlds

we study, we need to recognize ourselves and write ourselves into our research. I am

also supported by Oleson (2005) who regards the cultural ‘self’ as a resource that

contributes towards the richness and authenticity of data to be collected as noted below:

…’the cultural self’ that all researchers take into their work is not a troublesome element to be eradicated or controlled but a set of resources’. (Oleson, V. 2005:250)

As an insider, I am aware that I will be perceived and treated differently from an

outsider researcher. The community will expect me to contribute to the vanua and I

have a great sense of responsibility and obligation to do so. In addition, my actions and

ethical responsibilities have to be right and proper as I am an insider and am expected to

know. As an insider, I am aware of the drawbacks faced by researchers in the same

category. For example:

i.Hockey (1993), cautions against insider researchers’ presumptions that their

partialness of knowledge reflects the full picture of the researched location.

ii.Robson (2002:535) warns the insider researcher against ‘preconceptions about

issues and solutions.’ He notes that “overfamiliarity” and “taken-for-granted

assumptions” are pitfalls to be avoided. Alternatively, there is the parallel

problem of the research participants presuming the insider researcher knows

more than she does and therefore not sharing certain material.

iii.Nabobo-Baba (2005:112) highlights that insiders may not easily access some

information as that of the outsider because of protocol and rules of social

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relationships. For example, the temporary status of the outsider allows her to tap

into confidential information that may not easily be available to an insider.

As outsider

An insider researcher can be treated as an outsider in fieldwork. Nabobo-Baba (2005),

an insider in the Vugalei research, Fiji, notes that people asking too many questions

were seen as outsiders. Likewise Smith (1999) who was an insider in a study of Maori

language, reports that she realized how much of an outsider she was when she began the

discussions and negotiations over her research. Similarly, there are certain things about

myself that will make me an outsider in this research.

I am an educated woman and the positivistic attitude (and colonial legacy) that the

educated is the knower may prevent people from talking freely in my presence. This

may hold back some of the important knowledge of the community. I am a professional

woman who had worked for many years as a teacher then a lecturer at USP. In addition,

most of my siblings are in paid employment.Therefore, although I was a full time

student with no professional income at the time of this study, I would be expected to

contribute more than the average villager to community functions and meet kin-related

monetary obligations. I am also a mature woman researcher who leaves the husband

and family in Suva, the capital city to live in situ for a long period of time. This is not

the normal practice for Cu’u women who would be expected to weave ‘iluvatu and look

after their husbands at home. In addition, education is perceived by the traditional

community as a pursuit for the young and not for matured people. This attitude may

create indifference in cooperating and fully participating in this study.

The boundaries between the insider and outsider are seen to be permeable and highly

unstable (Mercer, 2007; McCulloch, 2008). The permeability will allow me as a

researcher to move back and forth and across boundaries in collecting, interpreting,

analyzing and theorizing data during the research process.

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Triangulation

Apart from reflexivity, triangulation is a powerful technique that facilitates validation of

data through cross verification from more than two sources. In particular it refers to the

application and combination of several research methodologies in the study of the same

phenomenon. According to O’Donoghue and Punch (2003), triangulation is a method of

cross-checking data from multiple sources to search for regularities. Cohen et.al

(2000:112) define triangulation as a method used to “map out, or explain more fully,

the richness and complexity of human behavior by studying it from more than one

standpoint”. The purpose of triangulation is to increase the credibility and validity of the

results. Altrichter et al. (2008) claim that triangulation “gives a more detailed and

balanced picture of the situation”. Robson (2002) adds that triangulation enhances the

“rigour” of the research. As suggested by Denzin (1989), validity in this study will be

guided by four main triangulation strategies - data triangulation, methodological

triangulation, investigator triangulation, and theory triangulation.

Data triangulation

This type of triangulation involves collecting data from a variety of sources. Each phase

of the research involved collecting data from community leaders, parents, teachers,

women and other groups that are detailed in the next section. This would ensure that

different viewpoints have been sought for the same issue.

Methodological triangulation

The use of various methods of collecting such as participant observation, interview,

focus group interview and archival data would add to the richness and validity of the

research. Stories and narratives collected from the field were also verified through

archival data (e.g. early missionary records, Fijian journals), government records (e.g.

NLDC records) and literature records.

Theory triangulation

This refers to using different theoretical perspectives to interpret the same data. By

applying different theories to make sense of the data, it is possible to see how different

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assumptions and beliefs influence one’s interpretations. Theories were compared with

other theories of both the western and indigenous world. Assumptions drawn might

influence various actions taken because of the findings.

Investigator Triangulation

This consists of the use of multiple, rather than single observers. My observers were the

key people that link me to the different stakeholders in the vanua. This is a customary

reality that I faced in the vanua. The investigator triangulation process would therefore

help in verifying and linking data collected.

The discussions so far have covered the theoretical aspects of methodology. I have done

this by discussing qualitative research in general and focusing on ethnography as the

main methodology for this study. With a review of literature, I have highlighted various

aspects of the ethnographic methodology including the various definitions, its features

and the notions of validity and reliability. In the next section, I will focus on the

operational aspect of the methodology, the research process itself.

4.3 The Research Framework

An indigenous framing

This ethnographic research is rooted in the indigenous paradigm. In particular, the

research is guided by the ‘Iluvatu Metaphor as framework. I use ‘iluvatu as a

framework for the cultural values that guided the research experience during my seven

months in the field. ‘Iluvatu is a special mat identified with people from the vanua of

Cu’u, the major participants of my study. Indigenous Fijians, like other Pacific cultures

use metaphor as tools to explain philosophy and theories about their cultures (Nabobo-

Baba, 2006; Drewery and Bird, 2006).

The ‘Iluvatu Framework is a derivative of the Fijian Vanua Research Framework

(FVRF) by Nabobo-Baba (2005 & 2008) and therefore uses the FVRF approach to

access data. The FVRF is based on research that respects the indigenous Fijian

worldview that embraces three interrelated realms namely, Lagi (heaven), Vuravura

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(physical world) and Bulu (the after life world of the spirits). These realms are not only

interrelated but also interconnected in the sense that they define the origin and the

nature of Vanua Knowledge as well as its methods of generation and transmission.

FVRF was particularly important for this research as it ensured that the research process

was culturally sensitive and appropriate to both the participants and the context of

study. The Fijian world view as represented in Figure 6 below, therefore formed an

integral part of the process of research and the research framework itself.

As a metaphor, ‘Iluvatu is influenced by Thaman’s Kakala, (1992) and Drewery and

Bird’s Te Whariki (2006). In their work on traditional Maori perspectives on

development, Drewery and Bird have used the ‘Te Whariki’ metaphor as a theoretical

foundation for studying human development. Te Whariki, like the ‘Iluvatu, is a mat

woven from flax fibres. In this particular study I am using various aspects of the

‘iluvatu to refer to the values that formed the tapestry which is Cu’u community. My

deliberate attempt to respect and carry out my research within the frames of these

cultural values helped me to delve into the inner core of the knowledge systems of the

people through their generous sharing of their stories. The cultural values are explained

later as the researcher documents how she fitted into the field.

Figure 6: The Fijian World View that frames knowledge and epistemology

(adapted from Nabobo-Baba, 2006:76)

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4.4 Ethical Considerations

While there is only a short history attached to acdemics as ‘cultural insiders’

articulating their own world views in Pacific researches, works taken from this stance

have provided important guidelines for ethical discourses in academia. In the last

decade or so, the Tongan Kakala Framework by Thaman, the Fijian Vanua Research

Framework by Nabobo-Baba and the Maori Kaupapa Framework by Smith have been

used extensively to guide ethical considerations in Pacific research.

As pointed out by Thaman (2006:2):

…ethics are values, principles, intentions, or beliefs that guide our behavior (practices and actions) towards others. However, because we all come from different cultures it follows that the interpretation of ethics in one society may not necessarily be the same in another, particularly one with a different world view. This aspect of ethics is crucial in our understanding of how ethics impact upon the education and knowledge production (research) process and products.

The differences in world views and interpretation of ‘truths’, motivated me to place

ethics at the centre of my attempt to access and reproduce the ‘truth’ about the Cu’u

knowledge systems and ways. I had to take extra care about village entry protocols,

people to approach and appropriate relational conducts while I went about my field

work. In line with the Pacific research frameworks discussed earlier, it was important

for me to protect the rights and welfare of the participants and their values. It was also

important for me to reach out to the knowledge system without causing ‘fracture’ on the

vanua. Such moves required extensive consultations before the fieldwork, and

consistently during the fieldwork with my family members in the village in order to

ensure that I was doing things right.

Nabobo-Baba et.al (2012) refers to ethical conduct in the Fijian context as cakacaka

vakadodonu (doing right or work with honesty). Sometimes it is said to be guided by

the sala dodonu (straight path). Sala dodonu means amongst other things “being true,

just, fair and to be deemed right, right as defined within” (Nabobo-Baba et.al,

2012:79).

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To recognise what is deemed right to the indigenous people would make indigenous

research ethics different from the conventional western ethics. Vaioleti (2011) posited

that ethics is a matter of sensitivity to the rights of others and that it limits the choice

researchers may take in their pursuit of the ‘truth’. For this reason, the current study

closely followed the ethics for indigenous Fijians (FVRF) outlined by Nabobo-Baba

(2005, 2008) and based on the following values.

Reciprocity

Before venturing out into the field, a researcher must ensure that there are appropriate

resources to show appreciation for people’s kindness and hospitality. According to

Nabobo-Baba, et.al (2012:103),

…researchers must ensure there is sufficient means to show appreciation to people so that people’s love, support, time, resources and knowledge freely given are duely reciprocated.

Reciprocacy is also important for researchers to note at the end of the research.

Respect for the knowledge giver or depositories

Researchers need to take into account the possible effect they may have on participants

and it is their dignity as human beings that is paramount. Vaioleti has summed up this

point by saying:

If researching ethically is about respecting human dignity, then it is critical that it is conducted in ways that are culturally appropriate for the participants. It is imperative that Pacific research ethics (protocols) emerge from Pacific worldviews in order to keep synergy with methodology and protect the integrity of participants as Pacific cultural being (Vaioleti, 2010:142).

Loloma (love) with empathy, care and commitment to the researched people’s welfare.

A researcher is expected to approach people with a heart of loloma (love) or empathy.

This refers to the researcher’s capacity to recognize and as much as possible, share

feelings (such as sadness or happiness) that are being experienced by the participants or

the community as a whole. In the Tongan context, Vaioleti (2011) refers to the notion as

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‘ofa fe’unga and explains that while ‘ofa is an esteemed status of being generous to the

point of giving away everything until one is left with nothing, he warns that:

Fe’unga limits ‘ofa (compassion or generosity) to what is appropriate only for a given situation. Poto (wisdom) in ‘ofa fe’unga is about the capacity to work with others for their benefit in trying circumstances…without causing dependency or interfering with the intergrity of the research or stakeholders.

(Vaioleti, 2011:145)

This principle provided a platform for me as an ethnographer and participant observer

to participate in vanua activities and got emersed in the normal activities of the people

including in the vanua, in the church and in other social activities.

Vakarokoroko (respect)

The value of respect is not only confined to preserving the dignity of individuals, but it

reaches far out to the community as a whole. Nabobo-Baba et.al.(2012: 103) affirms

that “researchers need to acknowledge and affirm existing elders and vanua structures

and protocols”. Such knowledge would allow researchers to be cautious, respectful and

behave according to the culture they are engaged in. Vaioleti (2011: 143) explains that

such appropriate behavior:

...could include not dominating space and conversations….face-to-face while ensuring the appropriate communication is used at all times. A researcher should also ensure that his/her dress code is always appropriate and that his/her body language is relevant, including where to sit (position in the room – close to the door?), stand or look. He/she must watch out for older people, brothers and sisters that may be present, as each situation demands a different set of behaviours.

In his healing works in Fiji, Katz (1999) found the vanua value of vakarokoroko to be a

behavior that treats others as equal or superior to oneself, with humility. According to

the researcher, vakarokoroko is expressed by “speaking softly, keeping a distance from

those one venerates; vakarokoroko is in attitude – feeling deeply for others, being

humble in their presence” (Katz, 1999: 29).

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As in most other Pacific cultures, the basis of all ethical behaviour is good relationships.

According to Vaioleti (2011), good relationships with God, the land, nature and each

other contribute to the success of Pacific research. In this study, the ‘Iluvatu

Framework ensures the legitimacy of the Cu’u people’s knowledge and culture as the

researcher and ethnographer ventures into the world of the vanua guiding every step of

research with ethical considerations.

4.5 Preparatory Phase The first phase sorted out the literature review, design of research, the gaining of approval from

the Ministry of Education and the School of Education where I work as a Graduate Assistant. It

also involved application for fieldwork funding from the USP Research Committee. At the

preparatory phase, I also confirmed my choice of the villages in Cu’u as the study area, as

dicussed in the last chapter. My choice of the four villages was guided by Patton’s notion of

‘purposeful sampling’ where the people are selected because “they are ‘information rich’ and

illuminative, as they offer useful manifestations of the phenomenon of interest” (Patton,

2002:40) in this case, Indigenous Knowledge and the school. In addition, the people in the

study were familiar to me and I expected them to cooperate as they were members of my own

tribe. Burgess (1984) suggests that since field researches focus more on social processes,

research sites may be selected on the basis of individual cooperation, familiarity and

convenience.

The four villages were also found to be typical indigenous Fijian villages whose

members were closely related and their traditional social structures and customs were

still fairly intact as enlightened in the previous chapter. The key features of the

fieldwork are detailed in the next phase.

Features of fieldwork

The fieldwork was the main feature of the research. The phase took more than seven

months from 23rd December to 31st July, 2010. In this phase I was a participant

observer. This means that my role in the research process was very crucial in the

determining and shaping of quality data.

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Nature of participant observation method

As a participant, I was involved in the lives of the people. I took part in the everyday

activities the community I was part of. In this role, I anticipated to fit into my role as an

insider - fitting into my vanua role and status in various socio-cultural contexts, my

gender role, as well as my relational role in different contexts. As an observer, I was

aware that I had the responsibility to report with accuracy, authenticity, and reliability.

This is why I prepared myself by reading widely and talking to people about becoming

a skilled observer in the field. The following guidelines by Patton (2002:260-261) were

found to be particularly useful in learning the observation skills:

i. pay attention, see what there is to see, and hear what there is to hear;

ii. practice in writing descriptively;

iii. acquire discipline in recording fieldnotes;

iv. know how to separate detail from trivial matters;

v. use rigorous methods to validate and triangulate observations; and

vi. report the strengths and limitations of own perspective

While the process of participant – observation immersed me into the everyday life and

activities of the Cu’u people, I was also mindful of Ellen’s (1984) warning that I could

be excluded from certain secret activities, or activities that do not accord with my

ascribed social status or gender status.

4.6 The Fieldwork

My fieldwork began when Seveci (husband) Manasa (son) and I arrived in Cu’u, my tu

galala home on 23rd December, 2009. I had particularly asked my husband to

accompany me to present my sevusevu and ask for permission to carry out my research

in the vanua of C’u. It was important that Seveci was the one to present the sevusevu as

I was now coming from his vanua to live in Cu’u temporarily. It is customary for a

Fijian woman to be part of her husband’s vanua as long as he is alive. With Seveci

presenting the sevusevu, it meant that he was approving of my temporary stay in Cu’u

and he fully supported my work. The sevusevu was received by my brother Epi Voro,

who was also the Tui Cu’u or chief of the Yavusa of Cu’u at the time of research. In

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accepting the sevusevu, Epi mentioned that I did not really have to ask permission to

conduct research in the villages as I was from there. However, he appreciated the

thought of veiva’aturagata’i (showing respect) through the presentation of sevusevu and

that he was pleased to accept it for the people of Cu’u. The sevusevu opened the ‘door’

for me to observe , record, photograph and describe my observations as well as listened

to people’s stories for the first time, using the lens of an ethnographer.

4.6.1 Fitting into the ‘iluvatu lens

Fitting into the community as a participant observer was a smooth process for me.

Amongst my relatives, I was simply known as Divolivoli, the name that connected me

to the community of my birth. The name reminded me that I belonged. I was a daughter

of the vanua and my roots were still there in Cu’u. Schooling alienated me from my

relatives many years ago and ever since I have been known by my birth-certificate name

(Sereima), with the addition of my husband’s name (Naisilisili), later as my surname.

Now that I was back with my people, my‘community name’ denoted that I was an

insider although I was also a researcher. I was reminded of Smith’s Kaupapa Research

experience where she had to ‘position and reposition herself’ and also Nabobo-Baba’s

Fijian Vanua Research in ‘negotiating and renegotiating herself’ in the field

(Smith,1999; Nabobo-Baba, 2005). Likewise I had the important task of playing a dual

role of insider/outsider researcher as I stretched out to reach into the valuable

knowledge systems of my people.

In the community, I soon blended into a web of relationships that mattered to my

relatives and the community of my study. It was important for me to connect myself to

these relationships in order to provide an accurate account of my people and their

thoughts and feelings. The process of connecting involved among other things,

respecting boundaries and upholding community values. As an insider, I had learnt that

the people of Cu’u uphold the values of inclusiveness, respect, family, cohesiveness,

uniqueness, reflectiveness, reciprocity and spirituality. These notions underpinned the

connections between the community and me as summarized in Figure 7.

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In the next section, I shall discuss each of these community values in metaphoric terms

using various features that characterise an ‘Iluvatu. These were also the values and

features of the Cu’u community that guided my fieldwork and data collection processes.

Figure 7: ‘Iluvatu Framework- the research process

Na Raba ni ‘iluvatu: Size for Inclusiveness

‘Iluvatu with sizes up to about 6m x 4m, is designed for use in large spaces, large

enough to include everyone present. The large size depicts the value of inclusiveness.

The principle of inclusiveness ensures connectedness and maintains relational ties

which requires one to inform and include every relative in family oga or obligations.

Failing to inform could impair relational ties and cause tension between families. The

principle is a reminder that one ‘belongs’ to the family, tribe or vanua and belonging is

an important aspect of being Fijian (Nabobo-Baba, U. 2006).

My fieldwork was influenced by this principle of inclusiveness. There were times as an

outsider, I felt like one who was disrupting the normal village processes. For instance in

a village meeting, some cloth gifts from an ‘au mata ni yalai (taking the face of

children) had to be distributed amongst the community. I was quite surprised to be

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allocated about 5metres of the bales as my wasewase (portion). I realized only too late

that my presence during the time of distribution mattered and it would have been

improper to overlook that. For the rest of my fieldwork, I was more sensitive to the

inclusive nature of the people and this sometimes influenced my choice of events that I

chose to participate in.

Another aspect of inclusiveness is related to the change I made to my original sample

size. As the fieldwork progressed, I realized that I could not restrict the number of

interviewees to the initial plan as people expected to be included for interview as in the

following case.

Divolivoli, au ma waci I’o ti’o na noa, qai maqa ni la’o mai. O ma sa mai talanoa ‘ei X (name withdarwn), qai cava o maqa ni la’o mai ‘ina vei au? (Lit: Divolivoli, I was waiting for you yesterday to come and interview me. You came to interview X, why didn’t you come and interview me?”) 7

Such offers were too valuable to miss and although I was mindful of my objectives and

research questions throughout the field experience, I used such opportunities to validate,

reaffirm and also tap into new deposits of knowledge that were freely offered by people

in the community. As I went about my fieldwork, I had thought about this inclusiveness

in a globalising Cu’u environment. I wondered if the notion of inclusiveness remained

the same in other contexts. Who is now included? What happens to those who don’t

belong? What determines inclusiveness? Is the size of the ‘iluvatu changing? Has it

remained the same?

Na loma ni ‘iluvatu: Space as expression of Respect

The indigenous Fijian culture uses ‘space’ to show respect. There is normally a space in

the middle of the mat to separate a chief from his subjects or visitors from the locals.

The empty space denotes respect and it is important to maintain it in a gathering

(Nabobo-Baba, 2005, 2006). In addition to the physical space, relational spaces convey

respect. There are ‘’no-talking’ and ‘no-contact’ in veitabu’i relationships such as

maternal cousins, in- laws and between niece – nephew-and uncles (Otsuka, 2006; 7 Fieldnotes 27/03/10

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Becker, 1995; Ravuvu, 1987).

Both forms of ‘space’ were utilized to enrich the information collected in the fieldwork.

As an insider, the community knew me not only as Divolivoli but also as the older sister

of the Tui Cu’u or Chief of Cu’u as explained earlier. Although I tried to keep the

‘spaces’ as narrow as possible, my status allowed me to experience only certain strata

of the community especially when things ceremonial mattered with women. My

seating space amongst the women folks, the activities I participated in and the people I

interacted with were all defined by who I was in the Cu’u community.

So as I recorded the voices of my relatives, I had to position and reposition myself as a

researcher in the countenance of these realities. Nabobo-Baba (2006) refers to such a

space as ‘boundaries… with defined limits to action, behaviour and speech’. For

example, when I participated in Ponijiasi Tomu’s funeral my status in the community

confined me to observe the gathering from within the limits of the tonitoni (mourning)

space rather than the kitchen or other aspects of the ceremony. My status in the

community required me to represent the leading to’ato’a of Cu’ulevu in mourning and

to keep close to Tomu’s wife, Selita during the 3 days of funeral gathering. Although

the women from Muwanaica’e were tasked as traditional mourners, I was expected to

stay with them in the vicinity of the tonitoni throughout the occasion of so mate (death

ceremony).

The distance between me and other members of the community comprised a distance of

veiva’aliuci (others first), veiva’amenemenei (pampering others) and veiva’aturagata’i

(uplifting others to chiefly status). All were expressions of respect. In the course of

experiencing these realities, I wondered if space was negotiable. Does space still matter

in diasporic settings? Have some spaces been taken up or lost? Who matters in the

‘iluvatu space?

Na i lawa: The basic units – the family

The starting strands of the ‘iluvatu determines the quality and success of the end

product. It is therefore important to select the best pandana leaves to start a mat. Wrong

selection could affect the durability and strength of the ‘iluvatu.

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Family is the basic unit of the Fijian culture. Most of the cultural values and appropriate

behaviours are taught within the family. To start an ‘iluvatu, two vatu ni lawa are used

one on either end of the beginning mat. The vatu ni lawa are normally smooth heavy

stones or vatu dina literally interpreted ‘real stones’. These are selected stones that have

gone through the weathering process through the years. The early phase of a family will

require elderly adults (usually the parents) who have gone through family experiences

to guide the young family through.

The diversity of the family units provided the range of information for this research. As

I carried out my interviews, I had the privilege of not only accessing important

knowledge but also experiencing the diversity of contexts on ground realities. There

was diversity in the interpretation of values, in family goals, important knowledge as

well as upbringing of children. Other matters concerned diversity in family sizes,

economic structures and also rawa ‘a (material acquisition). All these added to the rich

data collected during my fieldwork. While the basic units featured profoundly in the

ground experiences, I was interested in finding out who controls and disseminates

knowledge in the families. Does the father still play the role of head of household?

Talitali: Interlacing for Cohesiveness

Each interlacing length of fibre (warp and weft) uses more than two strands. The multi

strands and the interlacing pattern are essential for the durability and cohesiveness of

the mat. Likewise, the sustainability and cohesiveness of the Fijian culture is based on

the principles of interaction and integration. As I talked to individuals in the

community, I realized how the social structure allows individuals of all ages – young

and old, to integrate and be an important part of the whole community structure. As I

went out into the community, I was conscious of the fact that each person, including

those not included in my samples, played a unique role in the social structure and would

have an important contribution to make towards my thesis. This allowed me to

interview people with a wide range of persons, from 10 to 88 year olds.

Apart from the individual interviews, there were valuable observations recorded during

the interaction throughout the fieldwork. Observations of verbal utterances, silences,

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spaces, persons interacting within different cultural settings - these all contributed to

the richness of the data I collected. As an insider researcher, I found myself connected

to the diverse roles I was expected to play within the community. A few times I was

asked to write formal letters in English or give advice on issues pertaining to education,

business ventures, leadership and spirituality. These roles kept me linked as an insider

researcher to the community.

To’a volavola: Uniqueness through woven designs

The iluvatuis a unique mat that it is never decorated with ‘ula or wool edging. Its

decorative design is woven into the mat during the weaving process rather than inserted

as a black strand after the weaving of the original mat is done. The resulting designs are

unique to the ‘iluvatu only. There were unique aspects of the culture which were

investigated in the study. A historical event known as the vonu gaga is of particular

interest. The event involved mass dying of people from the Cu’u clan at the turn of the

century. According to passed down oral literature, people of a large village of Cu’u ate

a turtle and hundreds of people died at the same time. People were bulu va’avudi or

mass buried with 4 or 5 people in a grave. Evidence of the graves can still be observed

today. According to the story, the mass death happened as a result of a curse. The event

dispersed the Cu’u people to the four villages included in this study. The event is one of

migration that goes beyond provincial boundaries and involves ‘awa or geneology. I

believe the event has affected people’s psyche and attitude in the way they live today.

Another unique feature of the culture is the way people relate to one another through

veiloso. Veiloso is a powerful yet lighthearted humour,that carries deep meanings. It is

normally directed by the opposite sex to vulagis or visitors for the purpose of making

them feel at home. Veiloso has a romantic connotation but can cause discomfort to

wives or husbands who are not from the Cu’u tribe. These are unique features from

people’s lived experiences that shape their world views today. I was fortunate to capture

these aspects of the culture through interviews that were carried out in the dialect of

Cu’u and werelater transcribed.

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Sauma’i: Stage of Reflection

Halfway in the process of making the ‘iluvatu, a process of sauma’i occurs. This

involves inserting the end section of the pandanus strand so that the stronger end faces

the finishing edge of the mat. Matured members of the culture reach a stage when they

reflect on their past strengths and weaknesses and use this to guide younger members to

do better. Such reflection is done through va’asala ‘awa tracing geneology, recollecting

past events and merely providing opportunities for the younger generation to ask

questions about life issues. Significant data for this study was collected from reflections

made by matured persons in the community, although some may need to be validated

through archival records and other means.

‘Ilu: Reciprocity

The ‘ilu phase is critical in ensuring that the indigenous culture remains intact. The edge

of the mat is completed by ‘ilu, the process of returning the weaving strands by

interlacing the edges of the strands back into the mat. The ‘ilu process secures and

neatens the edge of the mat and ensures that the strands do not unravel easily. ‘Ilu is a

significant phase in that members have an obligation to reciprocate the nurturing ‘arms’

of the vanua and contribute back to the society. Apart from contributing in terms of

identifiable projects or donations, youths are obliged to look after their parents once

they reach adulthood. Koloto (2006), referring to Tongan culture, regards it as

‘inconceivable’ to put one’s elderly parents in an institution. Apart from social

marginalization, disconnection could lead to an economically marginalized old

population.

Likewise, the educated people are expected to contribute back to their delaniyavu or

place of growing up. As I lived and talked with my relatives in Cu’u, I was more than

convinced that the community had seen me as an educated person contributing back to

the community in terms of my participating in community functions and events.Once

one of my uncles commented.

Isa. Sa qai bau va’adua me dua vei ‘emunu na la’I vuli qai ca’aca’a sara tu me qai lesu viro mai me mai bula vata viro ‘ei ‘eimami. ‘Eimami sa

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‘alougata sara ga. (Lit: Oh. It is the first time for someone we have sent out to school, found work to come back and live with us like you. We are really very fortunate).

As I pondered over such thoughts, I wondered how much have I contributed? Haven’t I

been a burden more than anything? I wanted to give more but what can I give? While I

was puzzled by my western trained mind, I realised that my presence in the community

and showing my face in their activities, was considered adequate to earn a place in the

‘iluvatu space.

Tura: Spirituality as secret to success

The edge of the ‘illuvatu has a concealed strand of twisted pandanus thread, called tura

to provide the strength and the straight edge that is characteristic of the mat. The Cu’u

culture, like other indigenous cultures is framed by a spiritual dimension. Daily

activities and ceremonies are based on value and belief systems rooted in the spiritual

realm (Nabobo-Baba, 2006; Ravuvu, 1987).

The spiritual is not only the source of power and sustainability, it is the ‘plumb line’ on

which everyday activity is measured against. The success of my fieldwork and the

respect I earned in the community was not only attributed to my social status but in

many ways to the part I played in the ‘tura’ activities. The community saw me as a

preacher, a ‘godly’ woman, an inspirational woman to the down trodden as well as a

bible study teacher. Such roles allowed me to tap into the inner core of indigenous

knowledge that was not always available through informal talanoa sessions.

So far I have provided a glimpse of the kind of relationships that existed between the

researcher and the community in the study. I have also highlighted how as an

insider/outsider researcher, I negotiated my role as I lived and shared with my relatives.

I will now discuss the processes involved in the actual collection of data.

4.6.2 Entry protocols

While the Fijian Vanua Research Framework and the vanua protocols suggested by

(Nabobo-Baba, 2005) informed this work, the nature of entry into each village or school

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depended on the context and who was present at the point of contact.

When Epi accepted my sevusevu on the 23rd of December, 2009, he was approving me

entry for the Yavusa of Cu’u on his capacity as Turaga ni Yavusa (Chief of the

Yavusa). The approval was therefore to go ahead with the four villages in Cu’u. He was

also accepting my request as Turaga ni Mataqali (Chief of the Mataqali) that resides in

Waini’a. The general vanua ethics was therefore cleared in this occassion. While the

vanua ethics were generally in place, there were slight differences in the way I entered

each of the four villages during the research.

Waini’a and Vatu

The entry into the two villages of Waini’a and Vatu were somewhat informal. Based in

Waini’a, I found that I was already part of the community by the time I started my

research. In the last ten years prior to my fieldwork, I had made frequent visits to the

community to spend Christmas and New Year, attend funerals of close relatives and I

also visited the community on a research trip in 2008. In January 2009, I had organized

a ‘donation’ drive towards crockery and pots for the village hall by the Waini’a families

living in town as our village contribution. So when I came this time to live with them,

the community had already known me with such a good reputation.

However, when I stayed longer than expected, some people became inquisitive. For

example, one of my host relatives related to me how in a mat-weaving soiree with other

women intently listening, a female cousin asked:

Isa. Sa ‘a si’a dina ni ti’o voli ‘oni o Divolivoli. Ena mai tuwai? (Lit: Good. How nice it is to have Divolivoli with us. Is she staying for long?) (PO 19: 28/03/10)

The question was a subtle way of asking why I was still present in the village. Such

comments were spoken with a lot of caution in order to make sure that the content was

not offending in any way given the many interpretations on the topic of ‘kakase’

(gossip) depending on a person’s affiliation. However, my family members used these

opportunities to explain the purpose of my prolonged stay. Through word by mouth, it

did not take long for the community in both villages to know of my purpose to gather

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information for my study. People were informed through informal talanoa and

indicated their support to help me in whatever way they could.

I wondered how far the impact of my sevusevu went. I could not ask my brother Epi as

it would be improper. I assumed that he knew best what he was to do with my sevusevu

after all, the community was his turf. Did he take it to the village meeting as I had

requested him to do? Or are we viewing things from different perspectives? Did he only

inform the males in a grog session leaving out the women? But the bigger question was

why didn’t he let the whole community know? Is it because I am his sister? As my mind

wondered over my ambiguous status, I chose to rise above my emotions and behave like

a professional ethnographer who knew that answers to such questions would unfold as I

went deeper into understanding the psyche of the community.

Nagasauva and Yasawa

After four months of fieldwork in Waini’a and Vatu, I was ready to move to Nagasauva,

the village of my vasu, my mother’s village. I knew that my entry into the vanua mai

ca’e (i.e. Nagasauva and Yasawa) had to be formal, as I had not been there for a long

time. So I asked my brother Epi to go with me to present my sevusevu, a bundle of

yaqona about 2kg in weight. Finding that Koresi the masi ni vanua of Udu (chief) was

not at home, Wesele, received the sevusevu on his father’s behalf. My intentions for

research was relayed in the conversation. Epi informed Wesele that I would also want

to go to Yasawa later and that if they could take me there. My sevusevu to the next

village, another bundle of yaqona roots was already with me.

After about 2 weeks of living in Nagasauva, one of my nephews approached me to ask

if the men in the village could use my sevusevu to Yasawa, as there was no more grog

(kava) in the village. He promised that they were going to replace it. Astonished a little

bit, I agreed to give them the kava which was later replaced by three bars of soap. (The

scarcity of grog in the area intensified after hurricane Tomas and soap bars were

increasingly used as sevusevu instead).

When I entered Nagasauva, I entered as a vasu, a special relationship involving certain

privileges and ‘rights’ in the village of my mother. It also meant that I had to appear

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right in the village. Therefore my entry did not only require a sevusevu for the protocol,

but also some ti for Momo Pisa (my mother’s brother). It was important to show my

face appropriately by taking some tea stuff (such as a bag of flour, some rice, sugar,

milk, milo and sweets for his grandchildren) because he was my uncle. Later that week

he told me that he saw my deceased mother in a dream asking him if I brought anything

for him.

My special status as a vasu and my sevusevu was acknowledged by my mother’s

relatives when they organized a feast three days later to welcome me ‘home’ in

Nagasauva. When presenting the magiti, Seni’uba (a maternal cousin) mentioned in an

emotional speech, that they were very happy to be visited by one of us, the vasu from

Cu’u (my tugalala family). They regarded my presence as a blessing especially

knowing that I was coming to live with them for many months. While I did not expect

such an elevating experience, everything that happened that night took on a new

meaning as my western trained mind was enlightened and I appreciated the richness of

community life.

The schools

My entry to the two schools was an approval letter which I obtained from the Research

Division of the Ministry of Education in Suva. In both schools the letter was given to

the Head Teachers who informed their staff members immediately. After meeting the

teachers, I was then introduced to the whole school during the school assembly.While

my entry into the two schools remained somewhat at a formal level, I still felt obliged to

show my face right. I therefore took some USP pencil cases filled with pens and

pencils, with some lecture pads for the teachers.

4.7 The fieldwork processes

Throughout the fieldwork, I used a battery operated recorder, a camera and simply my

note books and pen to record interviews and observations. My choice was confined to

the most practical methods of collecting data, given the meager amenities without the

electricity supply in the rural and remote area. Although these were the simplest tools

any researcher could use, they captured data that were shared with sincerity by those

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who own it. I began my fieldwork as a participant observer, recording every community

function that I attended. This also allowed me time to feel through the community and

select the appropriate people to interview. My first interview was conducted about three

weeks into my fieldwork.

4.7.1 The interview sessions

Talanoa

Talanoa is a research tool that has been used widely by Pacific researchers in academia

(see Nabobo-Baba, 2005, Vaioleti, 2006, Johansen-Fua, 2007, Latu, 2009, Mataitoga,

2010). The method is based on an open style process of deliberation that is distinctive to

Pacific people (Latu, 2009). Nabobo-Baba refers to the notion as “a process in which

two or more people talk together, or in which one person tells a story to an audience of

people who are largely listeners” (Nabobo-Baba, 2006: 27). The researcher further

notes that talanoa may be conducted in either formal or informal contexts. Talanoa was

chosen for this research as it was seen to be a natural tool familiar to the community of

Cu’u.

Talanoa is known to be a forum where Pacific people exchange views and share their

experiences and stories (Robinson, 2005). According to Vaioleti (2011), talanoa is not

merely a means of exchanging stories, but it is central to the transmission of knowledge

in Pacific cultures through the passing on of instructions, narratives and stories. In

highlighting the richness of information drawn from talanoa, and measuring it against

Bloom’s taxonomy8, the researcher further argues that talanoa:

...can be used to draw out information that requires no more than recall as it may be in the case of ‘talanoa vave’... It can be used to prod for

understanding of a given answer. It can be used to analyse issues at multiple levels as well as for synthesising information in order to make a recommendation or pass some important judgement. Talanoa then can involve highly interactive engagement in which those involved probe, question and

8Bloom’s taxonomy of learning identifies three domains of educational activities: 1. Cognitive: mental skills (Knowledge) 2. Affective: growth in feelings or emotional areas (Attitude) 3. Psychomotor: manual or physical skills (Skills)

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challenge each other as they search for new meanings taking each other to higher and deeper levels of intellectual and emotional stimulation

(Vaioleti, 2011:117).

Latu (2009) adds another dimension and purports that talanoa is a method of

communication, afunction particularly important in understanding both the community

and school contexts. Talanoa as a tool for communication involves active participation

of both the researcher and researched as the two parties exchange their realities in the

process of communication. Talanoa processes have generated inter-subjective

understandings about issues of concern within the community as well as the school. For

an outsider researcher, the communication tool may add another dimension as noted by

Otsuka (2005:6) after his field work experience in Fiji.

For effective communication with ethnic Fijians, knowing that what one expects to get from conversations which are culturally different from typical Western transactions of discussion is of great importance…It is very common at the first meetingwith ethnic Fijians to share each other’s personal background by asking a lot about questions like: “Are you married?” “Do you have a wife/husband?” … and so on. While these personal questions might make some researchers uncomfortable, it is necessary for the researcher to be tolerant and patient about answering these questions. As the field researcher, I was often asked such questions.

Such talanoa was further found to be crucial as it removed the distance between the

researcher and the researched. Latu (2009) in her study of Tongan culture, found it

important to situate herself at the same level as the researched and found talanoa to be

an effective tool for this purpose. In this study, talanoa was well grounded in the culture

and language of the people of Cu’u and was therefore a useful means of reaching out to

the knowledge of the community.

Other researchers have found talanoa to be a means of empowering indigenous people

to have control over their knowledge (Vaioleti, 2011; Bishop, 1994, Bishop & Glynn,

1999). On this issue, Vaioleti (2011: 135) argues that a new Pacific research approach

such as talanoa would “ensure control” of Pacific knowledge by pacific people. What

he means is that the Pacific people themselves, as holders of their own knowledge could

decide which knowledge to disseminate or endorse others to do so. In this research,

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talanoa was conducted in various contexts including individual interviews, group

discussions and in group gatherings where a storyteller dominated the talanoa and the

rest of the groups listened.

Individual interviews

All individual interviews were pre-arranged either by the researcher or my hosts in the

village. It was important that one of my hosts, Ruci in Waini’a, Disau in Nagasauva,

Reponi or Kesa in Yasawa rather than anybody else, was to do the arrangements on my

behalf. Like many things Fijian, the weight of the message or request was in the person

taking the message rather than the message itself. Sanga (2004) found the same

principle to apply in most Pacific societies. Most of the interviews were done in the

interviewees’ own homes while others were done in my host homes.

Each interview trip would begin with the practice of va’asalevu when approaching the

home of the interview. The va’asalevu alerts the people in the house that I was outside

and that I was coming to their home. The call, “vaaaduuue” (pronounced as

vaahdooeh) is spoken slowly and loud enough for people inside the house to hear. The

notion of va’asalevu is similar to the western notion of knocking at the door when

visiting a house. However, because the homes in the villages are left open throughout

the day, there is normally no door to knock and va’asalevu is indigenously appropriate.

In response, someone in the house would respond, if a woman she would say

“vaaduue” and call me in; a man would simply call me in.

Initially there would be greetings then some catching up on the family affairs such as

what the children were doing, where they were, whom they married to and so on. They

would also ask me about my family and children, my siblings and their families. Then

we might recall some of the incidents in the past or events that took place and how they

were involved. Such exchanges are important as they affirm relationship,

belongingness, care and inclusiveness. This would take at least 20 minutes before we

actually started with the interview. While the tape recorders missed out on such

information, it was often noted down after the interview during reflections as they were

found to enrich the data from the talanoa session. In this ‘pre-interview’ session, I

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would consider whether it would be appropriate to begin the interview with a prayer or

not. The prayer would be short with words such as this:

Turaga, vina’a va’alevu na nomunu va’atara me ‘eirau mai veitalanoa ni ‘ua. ‘Eirau sa cabora vei ‘emunu na ‘a kece sara ‘eirau veitalanoata’ina ni ‘ua me basi‘a ga ‘ina na dina ‘ei na galala me rawa ni na yaga va’abibi vei ira na neimami ‘awa mai muri. ‘Eirau sa ‘ereya munu liuta’ini ‘eirau na yalomunu na Yalo Tabu me rawa ni basi’a ga na ‘a munu si’ata me volai baleti ‘eimami me rawa ni ‘eimami va’adinadinata’ina ti’o ga ‘ina ni munu bula ti’o ena ‘eimami maliwa na ‘Alou. ‘Eirau qai masu, maqa na yaca tani ena yaca I Jisu na neirau Turaga, neirau I va’abula.

(Lit: Lord, thank you for allowing this opportunity to come our way. We commit to you the content of our conversation today. Let it be one of truth and of freedom out of which the outcome will benefit others especially our children to come. We therefore ask for your Holy Spirit to lead us and may your revelations prevail in this session and confirm that you live. We pray in no other name but the name of Jesus our Lord and our Saviour).

When introducing the interview, I would begin by explaining my purpose. This was

always done carefully with a lot of humility and ensuring that the person to be

interviewed understood that he/she possessed the knowledge and that the researcher was

here in request of the knowledge. As in the following interview on the 18th of April,

2010 with Rejieli Vasa’ula, the leader of the women’s community group in Waini’a, I

started as follows:

Vina’a va’alevu Sa’ula na nomu loma soli me daru mai veitalanoa ni ‘ua. Au la’o ti’o ga mai, me’u mai ‘ere’ere ti’o ga me daru veitalanoa me baleta e dua na ‘a ni vuli au ca’ava ti’o . Noqu mai ti’o voli ‘o au va’ararai tu ga. Au dei vulica eso na ‘a munu ‘ila tu na lewe ni vanua. ‘Eimami maqa tu ni ‘ila. E levu na ‘a me baleta na noda bula ena veisiga, munu mataita’ina tu, o ‘eimami dei vulica. Noqu la’o ti’o mai ‘o, ‘arai au mai si’ata me’u vulica na ‘a munu ‘ila tu. Levu na gauna eda sa la’o bau’o I vuli, da la’I vulica na ‘a ra ‘auta main a vuli va’avavalagi na ‘a ba’arai, ia da qai dau maqa ni raica rawa ni noda ‘ila ‘a mada ga o ‘eda I ‘arai mada ga e dua na tamani ‘a levu. Na vu’u e tu vei ‘eda. Ia au ‘ila ti’o ni o I’o e dua na marama e dua tani ena loma ni ti’oti’o ‘o. Na noqu dau qoroya na nomu dau veiliuta’I vei ira na marama qai dau maqa ni

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dua na ‘a me va’amelei ‘ina. ‘E rawa ni daru te’ivu mada ga na nomu va’amacalata’ina mai na nomu I tutu ni veiliuta’I vei ‘emunu na marama I loma ni ‘oro.

(Lit: Thank you Sa’ula for agreeing to be interviewed today. I am just coming to you. I’m requesting if we can talk about things that will help me in my study. While I stay with you in the village, I would like to learn things that you people know. When we go to school, we learn a lot about western ideas and we don’t realize the importance of our own knowledge systems and the way we do things here. This is why I have requested you for this interview. I know you have a lot to share with me so that I can write down for others to learn. You have been the women’s leader in the community for a long time and I admire the way you organize things during gatherings. Can you talk about your role).

Each talanoa session would take at least one hour. Sometimes during the talanoa,

someone would serve us a cup of tea or draunimoli (lemon leaves tea) with some

babakau (pancakes) or roti vakalolo or biscuits. Other times if the interview went into

midday, lunch would normally be ready for us at the end of the session. This was the

way people showed their loloma (love) and respect for others. During the interview

other people either members of the interviewee’s family or my party or both would be

present. Sometimes they would contributeto the conversation or I would use them to

validate certain data on the spot as a triangulation strategy. Other times only the

interviewee and me would be present.

At the end of the interview, either the whole interview or parts of the interview was

played back for us to listen to. This was found to be an exciting time as people were

generally keen to listen to their voices on tape. Side comments and dila (jokes) from the

audience were always interesting. For all the individual interviews, I gave a ‘thank you’

gift. Most of the time the gift was a sulu; the border printed with bible verses. I also had

a few printed shirts and sometimes I gave bars of soap as ‘a ni va’avinavina’a or thank

you gifts.

Group talanoa sessions

All group talanoa sessions were informal. Most of the time the talanoa was captured in a

working group context such as mat weaving. It was important for me to keep my group

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talanoa in an informal way to allow as many participants as possible to talanoa freely.

The informal nature of the group talanoa allowed me to get into the men’s groups such

as after church gatherings, lovo preparation area and so on. Although I would have

found more men around yaqona soirees in the evenings, it was improper for me as a

woman, especially as an insider to be seen around the grog area. Women in the area do

not drink yaqona. However, some young women married into the community,

especially from X village (name withdrawn), drank yaqona and were normally the

subjects of kakase (gossip) in the community.

In group talanoa, I would ask a question then people in the group would tell their

stories or freely contribute their views openly. Jokes were normal parts of such

discussions and they also formed an important part of the data gathering process.

Information gathered in this way built on each other as people contributed their own

versions of a topic.

Story telling

Stories are an important form of orality in many cultures. Liniguists regard them as

items of natural description and expression, reflecting people, life and society (Tamata,

2000). Educators regard stories as an excellent way to enrich children’s learning and

they portray a general picture of people’s world view, based on the knowledge and

experiences they have had, their cultural values and norms as well as knowledge of

what is acceptable or not customary for a culture (Koki, 1998). In this study, stories

were recognized as a tool that contained powerful messages that formed valuable data

for analysis and interpretation. Koki (1998) agrees that stories can be a research tool

used to help tribe members to make sense of their collective experiences and

interrelationships in society.

In Fiji, rich data have been collected by various researchers from stories using story

telling as a method (Nabobo-Baba, 2005, Mataitoga, 2010, Tamata, 2000). In the same

way, this study has used story telling as a source of valuable information. . The process

started when someone who knew a story was approached to tell the rest of us.

Sometimes the story teller would just start a story (without being approached) and draw

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our attention on the spot.The story teller would be the only one talking while the rest of

the group listened. Now and again someone would ask a question or commented about

hearing the same story from someone else. Stories told were either to do with geneology

or historical events or even their own experiences of a past event. Story telling was seen

to be a favourite evening enagement in Cu’u for both children as well as adults.

Nofo

Nofo is a Tongan word which means to stay and follow up or to live with. Like talanoa,

nofo is a qualitative method that allows individuals and groups in a community to tell

their stories, voice their expectations, perceptions, and opinions in a research. Through

nofo, the insider/outsider researcher can observe and experience at first hand the lived

realities of those communities, as witnessed first hand by Johanson-Fu’a (2007) in a

pilot study of poverty in Tonga through the SLEP project.In noting the depth of

interaction involved, Taufe’ulugaki et.al (2008) posit that the insider/outsider researcher

gets the opportunity to become a member of the family or community for a short period

of time or for as long a time as is required. I have used nofo in this study mainly to

validate or triangulate data from the talanoa sessions. Sometimes more rich information

was gathered through the nofo method.

In this research, the process of nofo would be triggered by a piece of information of

interest that I wanted to know more about. I may have known the information from the

talanoa session and following it up by spending a substantial amount of time with the

holder of knowledge. The time was spent by doing activities together as we talked. My

favourite activity was a fishing trip. A few times wawalui (flattening dried pandanus

leaves) or preparing food, were used as the central activities for nofo.

4.7.2 Appropriate Endings

The end of my fieldwork was marked by properly informing the community that I was

leaving and the community reciprocating by feasts and gifts to farewell me. I will

explain these in some details here.

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Tatau and va’avinavina’a: Communicating my intention to leave and expressions of appreciation

After seven months in the field, it was time for me to return to Suva. So I asked Saula

(my nephew) to present my tatau to Epi, the Tui Cu’u (the chief of the Yavusa) in

Waini’a and also to Koresi, the chief of the mataqali o Udu in Nagasauva. For each

occasion, there was a bundle of yaqona and a large bag of flour, some rice and sugar as

my va’avinavina’a. While the entry protocol of sevusevu was important, the protocol

for leaving was equally important. I had to leave appropriately and so the yaqona and

‘tea stuff’ were fitting especially after hurricane Tomas, when there was scarcity of food

in the area. In presenting my tatau, Saula mentioned something like this:

Dua na yaqona ‘o sa mai ‘asi ti’o ‘ina na nona tatau na lewa matua.Me san a va’arau lesu viro ti’o yane na loma ni dua na gauna lele’a ga ‘o. Sa ‘erei ti’o munu ciqoma. Sa mai va’avinavina’a viro ti’o ga na veivu’e levu sa mai rawa ti’o ‘ina me va’acavara va’asi’a sara na nonai na’i va’avuli ma la’o voli mai ‘ina. Dua wale ga na ti lailai sa mai biuta ‘oto ‘ina me va’araita’I wale ga ni nona va’avinavina’a.

(lit: This grog I have is to inform you of the old ‘woman’s intention to leave. She is going to leave us sometime very shortly. I ask you to accept it. I also thank you for helping her to accomplish the aim of her educational experience with us. There is just some tea here as a small token of her appreciation). (PO75:30/07/10)

Apart from the appropriate tatau protocol, Saula’s reference to me as ‘lewa matua’ (the

old woman) is a matter of interest. The reference in a third person context may be

offending by western interpretations, but in Cu’u it denotes respect and has a lot of

significance when used by a younger relative in a formal situation such as the one

mentioned above.

The tatau to the community was accepted by the chiefs who wished me well in my

educational pursuit as well as my journey back to Suva. About two weeks earlier, I had

also given a box of assorted items to Soba (my sister in law from my tu galala home), as

well as my host families, Ruci in Waini’a and Disau in Nagasauva. The boxes contained

mugs, tea towels, thermos and other kitchen items. Now I was ready to leave

appropriately, the community as well as the homes that looked after me.

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Farewells

In return, the community made sure that they allowed me to leave appropriately. In

Nagasauva, the farewell included a church service where I was the guest preacher for

the last time. In his farewell speech, Koresi, the chief of the village, mentioned that they

believed that God had sent me not so much to do research, but to uplift their spiritual

lives through the Sunday preachings and daily bible study I was taking. He also wished

me well in my study pursuit. In response to his speech, I thanked the people for the

great time I spent with them and also for helping me out with my research there. I also

mentioned that when I shared in the realm of the spirit, I was only watering whatever

seeds other people had planted.

The other part of the farewell included a shared lunch at the village hall after the

service. In presenting the lunch, Vilipe (the chief’s cousin) also presented some gifts of

coconut oil and sasa brooms. He mentioned that these were tokens of their love and

thankfulness for all that I had done for them. I stayed for another day before leaving

Nagasauva. On Tuesday morning the 27th of July, while I waited for the tide to come up

so that I could leave for Waini’a, Diculacula,an 80 year old aunt came with her sasa

broom as her farewell gift. She apologized that she had taken longer to produce the

broom but she wanted to fulfill her bit of contribution which was a bottle of oil and a

broom from each woman. She had given her bottle of oil in the Sunday collection.

Touched by such a kind gesture, I gave her one of my two last clothes in the suitcase, a

white dress for preaching, as my expression of appreciation.

As I left for Waini’a in Tukana’s boat, I thought about the people’s sincerity, kindness,

and accommodating nature and the veiwe’ani (relatedness) that culminated in the

Sunday farewell, and in Diculacula’s sasa broom gift that morning. I was amazed to

witness firsthand the inclusive nature of the community which made everyone,

including the elderly members of a community feel useful in playing their roles in the

village contexts.

I arrived in Waini’a just in time for lunch. To my surprise, the lunch was a special one.

Given that mobile networks did not catch in Nagasauva, I was shocked to learn that my

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relatives in the to’ato’a of Cu’ulevu knew of my movements and had prepared to

farewell me on my arrival. In presenting the food, Saula (my nephew and host in

Waini’a) mentioned that the family had thought of putting together a small feast to

farewell me and mark the end of my research in the village. He mentioned that the food

although small, was their way of saying goodbye and thank you for all that I had

contributed to the community.

It was another emotional moment for all of us and I thanked them for the great gesture.

I learnt later that families from the other to’ato’a (subclans) brought chicken, fish, dalo

and yams as contribution to the feast. Although they were not present in the lunch, they

all received some share of the feast through ‘ta’ita’I (taking food to people’s homes for

the purpose of sharing), a common practice prevalent in the Cu’u culture.

There was more farewell in the evening. The women of the village ‘gade’ (visited) to

socialize with me for the last time. As I sat in Livai and Elenoa’s home which had a

larger space than my host home, the village women came in one by one to place their

gifts of coconut oil, fans, sasa broom and ‘iluvatu in the middle of the room. When

everyone was seated around the room, Asena, the church elder’s wife, spoke. She said:

Nana Divolivoli, ‘eimami gade wale ti’o ga mai na yalewa ni ‘oro ‘o. ‘ina e dua wale ga na ‘a lailai ‘eimai sa rawata mai mo va’aligaliga lesu ‘ina i Suva.Vosota sa mai tuwai nomu mai ti’o voli, ia ‘eimami sa qai yaco rawa tug a mai ni ‘ua. ‘Eimami sa va’avinavin’ata’ina va’alevu na gauna si’a ‘eda mai veimaliwai voli ‘ina, ‘ei na nomu veiva’ayaloqaqata’I ena gauna dredre vei ‘eimami na marama. Vina’a va’alevu.

(lit: Aunty Divolivoli, we, the women of the village are coming to visit you tonight. Here we have brought some very humble gifts for you to take back to Suva. Forgive us for taking so long to come and visit you for you have been with us for a long time. These gifts are tokens of appreciation for coming to visit us and staying with us for long. We thank you for the great time we have shared together and your help in encouraging us when times were difficult. Thank you very much)

The difficult times referred to the aftermath of Cyclone Tomas when homes and

gardens were badly destroyed. I had left the village for a break in Suva a few days

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before the cyclone, and returned two weeks after, to find the devastated state of the

villages and the area. Waini’a was one of the worst hit villages with homes badly

damaged by accompanying tidal waves during the cyclone. As a Methodist preacher, I

used the pulpit to preach messages of hope and stability during the time of recovery.

The night was then filled with talanoa, jokes and singing of hymns. The women from

my to’ato’a served our visitors with tea and pancakes, scones, buns and other village

delicacies for the night. Late into the night, I was thoroughly tired but I waited for the

visitors to leave first before I could go. I noticed that most of the women in the room

were also tired, but no one left. When I consulted my cousin Lusi about the situation,

she told me that they were waiting for me to leave first before they could go. I did so

immediately after Lusi spoke an ‘asi ni tatau for me (request for me to leave). This is

respect in crisis from the perspectives of the vanua and the western trained mind.

The process of research in an indigenous Fijian community required that one was

continuously alert and acted appropriately throughout. Vanua people view life as a

series of seasons that must begin and end appropriately. These seasons must be marked

clearly as they become part of people’s stories and learning pillars later on when

reminisced. As the end of my fieldwork experience was marked by these farewells, I

felt more obliged to come back and share the knowledge I have gathered in a form that

will help them affirm their places in a globalizing environment.

4.8 After the fieldwork

After seven months of fieldwork, the next task was to sort out and analyse my

data.Before the interview, each tape was labeled with the name of the interviewee or the

event recorded, plus the place, date, day and time of the interview. This was important

for the purpose of sorting out the transcribed data later.

4.8.1 Transcribing Interviews

Transcribing refers to the representation of audible data into written form. The process

in this study began while I was still doing my field work. The interviews were

transcribed in the language spoken, either Cu’u, English or Fijian language. While 40

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indepth interviews were carried out, only 25 were fully transcribed for the purpose of

this research.

I chose to listen to the other 15 and took notes. In the same fashion, I listened and took

notes of the two focus group interviews. In both cases, I had some writing paper which I

labeled according to the field tape and wrote down the key points arising from the

interviews. This approach was used owing to time constraints as I had deadlines to meet

for my thesis. Powney and Watts (1987) have found that transcriptions of interviews

may be done in part depending upon one’s selection of relevant parts (p.147). All

transcribed data however, was left in its raw form in order to allow me to use direct

quotations at the discussion phase. This decision was guided by Patton (2002:503) who

claims that direct quotations allows the reader “to enter into the situation and thoughts

of the people” in the report. Translations were then made for the quoted sections of the

data only.

The process of transcribing involved two major phases. The first phase saw each tape

transcribed as the transcriber heard it. Four other people who spoke the Cu’u dialect

helped me at this stage of the research in transcribing. Each script was labelled as on the

field tape and further had the name of the transcriber for cross-checking purposes.

The second phase involved checking through each script as I listened to the tape.The

stage required checking through line by line, word by word to make sure that the

recording was properly represented in the written form. This was quite a tedious

exercise and required me to make judgements and interpretations in the process. For

example, incorporating missing words and the decision whether to leave the

‘uhhh…mmm’ and repetitive words, or to cut them out. Bailey (2008) pointed out that

transcribing is an interpretive act rather than a simple technical procedure. Denzin

(1989: 83) adds that transcribing yields ‘thick descriptions’ which were more than mere

facts and surface appearances, but they contained the necessary ingredients for “thick

interpretations”. The author further notes that thick descriptions carry details, context,

emotions and a web of social relationships behind the written scripts. The ‘thick

descriptions’ came alive as I listened to the tapes, recalling and appreciating the way

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things were said and how the interviews took place. This was an important point of

transition between fieldwork and analysis and according to Patton (2002), was a crucial

part of data management.

For the next stage of analysis, I made two sets of files, each with a copy of the

transcripts for analysis. One of the files was labeled ‘Analysis-working file’ and the

other ‘Analysis –clean file’. The latter was used as a reference file while the former for

sorting, coding and rearranging data.

4.8.2 Coding the Interviews

The methods of coding in this study in a way, followed - open coding, axial coding

and selective coding. These methods are underpinned by the “grounded theory” method

of data analysis outlined by Strauss and Corbin (1998) and used by ‘ODonoghue (2007)

in his study of teachers and classroom observations. The method was also applied by

Dorovolomo (2008) in his study of Choiseul students on opportunities to learn in the

Solomon Islands.

While the coding methods were useful guides in this research, the nature of my data and

the approach taken for this research, demanded some degree of flexibility in the course

of analysis.The coding methods, therefore served only as guides and did not restrict the

way the data was categorized and transformed into findings. This is in line with Patton’s

claim (2002:432) in that “qualitative analysis transforms data into findings, (but) no

formular exists for that transformation”.

Open Coding

Open coding is the process of categorizing data. Strauss and Corbin (1998) posit that

the data is fractured or broken down into concepts to be examined during the process of

open coding. In this study, open coding involved four major steps. First, was the coding

of each interview question with a coloured paper. Seven questions guided the interviews

during my fieldwork, so seven coloured sticker pads were used for this purpose. I had

predetermined to use the questions as thematic guidelines during the course of my

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fieldwork when I replayed and listened to conversations during my time of daily

reflections.

The second step was to give a code to each interviewee script and I used their initials

for this purpose. The third step involved reading through each script and circling the

main points of each answer as well as putting comments on emerging issues on the right

side of the page as I read. Some answers carried several issues, these had my comments

on the page as well. Then I looked through the pages, and gave a number code to each

of the responses which I previously marked with circles or scribbling. An interview

transcript for example would carry responses 1 to 50 or 1 – 100 with each response

carrying the interviewee code such as MT 1, MT2, MT3 and so on. This was done to

each of the scripts.

The fourth step was giving a colour code to each response, the colour corresponding to

the appropriate research question. The response code therefore, would relate to one of

the research questions asked.

An example is given below.

Code: WG 1

Meaning: WG is the interviwee’s code.

1 is the response.

Colour: Yellow related to Question 1 of the research questions

When all the interview data was coded, each response was again pulled apart and

grouped into the same colour codes. Some samples of the responses coded for question

1 is given below.

Q1. What is regarded important knowledge in the community (Code: Green)

Examples of responses extracted:

MT 1 – tagane (to be a man)

MT 4- gardening for family food and vanua

RT 20 – producing things when required

RT 22- liga kaukauwa (strong hands)

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CT 10 – relationship

CT 4 –dress code

CT 20 – medicinal knowledge

EV 3 –making the right decisions

EV8 – proper way to communicate vanua messages

PS 11- fishing

AS 5 – gardening

ST60 - lotu

Participant Observation Data

The participant observation data comprised of audio and note forms. Each observation

had a date and a description of the recorded data. I had mentioned earlier that I listened

and took down notes for my PO data. Like the interview data, each response/issue on

my script was given a code number. This was again given a colour that fitted the data to

the closest research question it would answer. An example is given below.

Code: PO1.3

Meaning: PO is Participant Observation and refers to the type of data collection used.

1 refers to the event or situation observed

.3 refers to the response/issue arising from observation.

Colour: refers to the research theme or question it answers

As all the PO data was coded, the various colour codes were then cut out, pulled apart

and rearranged into the same colour groupings with the individual interview data to

allow themes and sub-themes to emerge.

4.8.3 Analysing and Interpreting Data

Throughout the fieldwork, I had time to reflect on my data on daily basis. This allowed

a continuous process of analyzing and interpreting of data as I listened to transcriptions

and wrote down my reflections. This approach was consistent with Patton’s (2002: 436)

who posited that “ideas for making sense of the data that emerge while still in the field,

constitute the beginning of analysis”. The approach allowed me opportunities to cross

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check meanings from interviewees themselves, and other people on issues for

triangulation. I found this process to be crucial, as I knew that the geographical location

would limit my contact with the interviewees after the fieldwork.

Axial coding

Axial coding occurs where there is a strong focus on discovering codes around a single

category and seeking relationships that will expose other categories (Corbin & Strauss,

2008). The analysis process for this study in some way followed the axial coding

method when rearranging the coded data. The process began by looking at the responses

already in colour codes and were now grouped together. In other words, they were the

responses that answered the same research question. Axial coding helped to identify

relationships between the sub-themes and the links that created a web of meaning for

the people of Cu’u. Responses in each of the eight categories were then considered and

grouped into sub-themes. An example is provided here under important knowledge.

Gardening – family need– quantity, quality, sustainability, tools

- Community need–challenge of leadership, vanua obligations

- Status symbol – tagane dina (real man), tamata dina (real person)

- Economic resource– cash crops, short-term crops, skills

- Social value – gifting, abundance, sustainability

- Transmission – observation, practice, model

- Godly gift, motivation, church donation

- Environmental sensitivity, communal space

When all the different types of knowledge, their properties and dimension were

identified, as given above, the sub-categories had increased and relationships between

them became clearer. The next step was selective coding.

Selective Coding

In this method, a core category was selected based on common themes. This became

necessary when I realised that most of the responses were either overlapping or

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answering more than one question and was difficult to separate. The questions were

then combined and collapsed to the following broad themes:

1. Important knowledge, its bases and validation

2. Transmission, change and disappeared knowledge

3. Reflection in school structure and processes

Theories formed sub-themes at this phase as they shifted under a broader category to

encompass the issues raised by the questions above. These were then presented for

analysis and interpretation in Chapters 5, 6 and 7.

4.9 Summary

This chapter has focussed on the methodology used in this study – which was mainly qualitative

and ethnographic. Different qualitative paradigms including the indigenous paradigm, were

described together with examples of these from the Pacific, which helped inform and guide the

conceptual framework used in this study. The ‘Iluvatu metaphor was also important as it largely

influenced fieldwork activities, including ethical considerations and data gathering. The next

chapter discusses the findings from the fieldwork.

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CHAPTER 5

CU’U INDIGENOUS KNOWLEDGE

5.0 Introduction

This chapter describes the knowledge systems of Fijians in Cu’u. It attempts to analyse

knowledge as information, ideas, concepts as well as issues of reality that touch the inner core

of people’s emotions and spirits. Given that the realities of the people of Cu’u exist in a cultural

context the chapter explores knowledge as rooted in the vanua, the receptacle that holds all life

and people together as a Fijian community (Tarabe & Naisilisili, 2007; Nabobo-Baba, 2006;

Tuwere, 2002 and Ravuvu, 1983). An important element woven into the discussion in the

chapter is the way in which the vanua knowledge is passed on through generations, allowing it

to exist today despite the dominance of Western knowledge.

According to Nabobo-Baba (2005), the important indigenous knowledge in Vugalei include

vanua, lotu (spirituality and church), veiwekani (relationship) and tovo vakavanua (customary

values and behaviours). While this is true for all indigenous Fijians as a group, it is not always

clear if the various processes, nature and interrelationships involved would be the same for a

remote and rural community such as Cu’u. The chapter therefore, explores Indigenous

Knowledge as situated in Cu’u as shared from the perspective of the knower or holder of

knowledge. Although Fijian worldview is holistic in nature and therefore cannot always be

desegregated the discussion in this chapter will focus on knowledge that are part of the

interrelated dimensions of vanua described by Ratuva (2007) as the territorial sphere or qele,

social kinship or veiwekani and the cosmological dimension in particular, the spiritual

dimension. It is hoped that such themes will allow flow in the discussion and clarity in the

conceptualization of perspectives. Issues raised in the chapter are illustrated with accounts

drawn from interviews and participant observation data collected during the fieldwork. The

chapter ends with a summary that uses ‘Iluvatu as a metaphor to reinforce the key issues

covered in the discussion.

An understanding of important knowledge cannot be complete without first

understanding the notion of subjective well being and life satisfaction for the people of

Cu’u.Psychologists refer to Subjective Well-Being as ‘a person's own assessment of

their happiness and satisfaction with life’ (http://www.alleydog.com/glossary). In the

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Cu’u context, a satisfied life constitutes a good health and well being which is

maintained through connectedness with one’s environment, with each other and with

the spiritual. According to Tarabe and Naisilisili (2007:53)

‘Relational connectedness is a continuous thread of relationship and bonding between tribe members that ensures the quality of many things in life and life itself. It is seen in the actions of people in everyday activities’

So in acquiring the knowledge below, the ultimate goal is to reach the ideal life that constitutes

subjective well being and life satisfaction.

5.1 Knowledge of the Territorial Sphere

The first level of knowledge is to do with the empirical sphere or territory. Living in the

vanua means living in a defined territory. Tuwere (2002) refers to the realm as the

earthly turf, flora and fauna, rivers, mountains and fishing ground. All these are

encompassed in the part of the vanua called land. In her study of the Vugalei

epistemology and ways, Nabobo-Baba (2006) refers to the territorial realm of vanua as

vuravura or the earth. She describes vuravura as “the secular world of people, plants,

water, animals and spirits”. Ratuva (2007) further confirms that the territorial realm

includes trees, plants, animals, birds and insects which are considered innately bound to

the spiritual realm.

These elements have been used to guide the discussions in this section. However, with

important knowledge as my focus, the discussion has highlighted the knowledge that

relate to the territory or environment around the people of Cu’u. Skills and knowledge

to do with the environment as territory has been included. The discussion also places

the holder of knowledge at the centre as they are key determinants in decisions about

the type of knowledge to keep and generate in the community.

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5.1.1 Gardening as important knowledge

Gardening is a marker of masculinity amongst the Cu’u community. Every man living

in the village is expected to have a garden big enough to meet family needs and vanua

obligations. When emphasizing this point, Maivuca commented:

“….e dua na ‘a au sa cata va’adua, me ‘aya bau ‘o e dua na tagane. Iye, au sa qoroya dina nai teitei nei ‘a. A cata na qara ni daligaqu. ‘Enai balebale, e tautauvata na wiliwili ni nodrau qaqalo ruarua. Na cava e rawata ‘ina o ‘oya qai maqa ni rawata ‘ina o I’o?” (AM2)

(lit: …one thing I dislike is when a man tells me “Hey, I really admire so and so’s garden”. My ears hate to hear that. It’s because they both have the same number of fingers. Why is it that the other man can have it (the garden) and you cannot get the same?)

The notion of masculinity with the Cu’u community is not confined to the biological

make up only. Masculinity must be backed up with what a man owns, what he can do

and above all what he contributes to the community. Therefore masculinity is a lived

experience. Maivuca’s reference to the fingers above implies that a man does not have

an excuse to have a smaller garden as he is naturally endowed with the power and

potentials to produce large gardens.

Earlier in the century, Nayacakalou (1978) noted that it was culturally accepted ideal

that a man owned a large garden and rich in food. In Cu’u, a man with a large garden is

seen as ‘tamata liga kaukauwa’ (a person with strong hands) as he can feed his family,

contribute to the community obligations and above all share with other relatives. Males

grow up and aspire the ideal sate of ‘tamata liga kaukauwa’ and therefore know that

they should work hard. The aspiration is accompanied by the knowledge that

masculinity is not only a status to be enjoyed but a responsibility and an obligation to

meet community expectations such as providing root crops when asked for. In fact a

man is elevated in status when he knows that people depend on him as a provider of

food crops. This assessment is confirmed by Sahlins (1962) who noted that ambitious

gardeners in the Moala culture planted extraordinary amounts of crops, so that people

could come and ask for it. What is striking in this situation, is how gardening can be a

‘power tool’ to differentiate who is man and who is less a man.

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Asaeli’s comments below throws some light on this attitude.

Na gauna ni cagi ‘o, ‘eitou ‘ania to’a ‘o, ‘ania viro ti’o ga o ratou o Penisa… Au ni’u dau la’o mai na’oro, au dau vagani ira maqa tu nodra yabia vata ‘ei ira sa mate na watidra… (AS7).

(lit: After the hurricane, we are eating cassava, and also sharing it with Penisa’s family. When I come to the village, I share my cassava with widows and those who don’t have it.)

On the other hand, men who do not own a garden are considered lazy and ‘tagane

wale’ (useless man). They are often made the subjects of kakase (gossip) and ridicule

amongst some males. One morning I overheard some men outside my bedroom talking

about X who spent most of the time inside his home and did not have a garden. One of

them ridiculed him saying:

‘I ‘ina sa va’alili ce’e wale voli ga’ (PO 41).

(lit: There he is just walking around with his hanging scrotum).

Such degrading comments are meant to strip a man off his masculinity and point to his

powerless status.

The status of men is given a lot of emphasis in a Fijian community. They are given the

first place over women in almost every sphere of village life including meal times when

they are not only served first but given the best part of the meal (e.g. head of fish)

while women and girls are served last. In decision making, men have the final say on

family matters as well as clan decisions (Ravuvu, 1983). Their role is further

emphasized through the division of labour such as in gardening rather than weaving or

washing clothes. Consequently, boys as well as girls are socialised into a culture that

uplifts maleness and regards the feminine tasks and status as subordinate.

At the household level, Ravuvu (1983) states that husbands have considerable

authority over their wives who are expected to obey respectfully. Given that knowledge

is socially constructed, one may question if the kind of knowledge that exists in Cu’u is

biased to benefit males only. Above all, Harding (2004) when looking at society from a

bird’s eye view, has claimed that the knowledge generated in a community is generally

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male oriented. However, this claim may be cautioned when standing from within the

Cu’u culture looking out, the position taken to analyse knowledge in this research.

While the gender aspects of knowledge processing may be unclear, Cu’u men have

obviously used their positions to channel their knowledge to benefit others in the

community. This includes their use of gardening as a ‘safety net’ to catch ‘school

dropouts’ and ‘push outs’ in the community. The safety net ensures that boys who have

reached the end of their school journey, whether it be class 8 or Forms 6 and 7, take up

farming in Balawaviri’i (see Chapter 3). School leavers are regarded as adults by the

community and are therefore expected to be involved in gardening immediately after

leaving school. Most of them shift to Balawaviri’i to start dalo and yaqona farming.

This has become the norm as owning a garden in Balawaviri’i is an indicator of

independence, maturity and reliability, values befitting a real man in Cu’u. As a result,

the person is given the respect and esteem he deserves by the community.

Gardening as a vanua ‘safety net’ has proved to be successful in restoring hope for the

youths of Cu’u. Through the farming arrangement of Balawaviri’i, young people have

managed to build houses, some have bought vehicles, boats and enjoy modern amenities

back in the vanua. They now stand as living witnesses of a faulty school curriculum that

tried to define them erroneously through examinations. Ironically, the same vanua

structure that western education attempted to disrupt since its introduction many years

ago, is now used by the people of Cu’u to catch those falling out of its system, as a

solution to the drop out dilemma.

5.1.2 Weaving

Weaving is a woman’s domain and married women are expected to know how to weave

mats. The knowledge of weaving therefore puts everyone on the same platform,

whether be ‘iluvatu or other smaller mats called delana. What determines the edge over

others is the knowledge of intricate details such as woven designs, ula’ulati (wool

edging designs) and the fineness of weaves for the delana. An expert weaver is admired

in the community. Such knowledgeuplifts the status of a woman amongst their peers

and is often the one consulted for mentoring purposes amongst novice weavers. The

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fastweavers are referred to as tinai uso’a (mother of fast job) a term used with sarcasm

as the job is done fast but untidy. Such terms are also used to check on the standard of

weaving for fast weavers.

In the vanua, women who always produce mats when required are respected and

admired. This reaffirms their gender-related role in the community. It is often degrading

for a woman to be known as ‘dauva’asavuliga’ (loose hands) as it indicates that she is

lazy, does not work, and is in the same category as males who do not produce mats.

Women therefore avoid such labels by ensuring that they have their store of mats all the

time. The response is particularly important amongst women in leadership positions.

Women play a supportive role by making sure that their men are not shamed publicly,

as in the case of a chief when the appropriate (huge) amount of mats are to be presented.

Ruci, a close relative of the Tui Cu’u, during an interview, commented:

‘Eda meda liga kaukauwa ti’o ga meda ‘ua ni cegu…Talitali ti’o ga me tu vei ‘eda na ‘a. Ni sa maqa mai na vanua o ira na lewe ni ‘oro, o ‘eda sara ga na veiliuta’I ti’o’. (RT4)

(lit: we should have strong hands and must not rest. Keep on weaving to have things in store. When people in the community do not have it, then we in leadership should give it).

Ruci’s comment raises a number of issues. Firstly the main aim of mat production is to

give them away as and when necessary. Men also plant crops to give away. Giving

goods away is an important value that is encouraged in the Fijian culture, as hoarding

possessions is normally considered selfish and bad for one’s health (Nabobo, 2009;

Ravuvu, 1983). This value contradicts the western economic principle of material

accumulation that defines the economic status of most people. For example, in most

Western cultures, a wealthy person is one who accumulates the most wealth especially

in the form of money or cash. In the Cu’u context, the perception of a wealthy person is

one who gives away the most. This person is the one who has liga kaukauwa (strong

hands). The second issue relates to the distribution of goods or wealth. The

responsibility of the distribution of goods is normally made according to the social

hierarchy (Tuwere, 2002; Ravuvu, 1983). For example, the leader, especially in

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extended family groupings plays the central role in the formal gathering and flow of

goods.

Ruci’s concern to keep weaving to enable her relative, the chief of Cu’u to keep

distributing goods, reflects a typical Fijian way of bonding of veiwe’ani (relationship)

which exists within family lines and flows outwards in many social relationships.

According to Sahlins (1962:138),

‘The seniority status of the family elder is the social means by which he is enabled to call for goods and services, while the relative subordination of junior members is the social sanction of their willingness to render up their labor and its product’

The community expectation therefore is for the senior person or the chief, to be

responsible in providing for the welfare of juniors who are in turn the pillar of support

for the chief. For the Cu’u women, such a structure strengthens the women’s role in

helping to uphold the status quoby weaving and providing wealth in order to avoid

embarrasment for the chief and elders in the community. The realization of this

responsibility is an intrinsic motivational factor among village women to continue to

weave more mats. Consequently, young girls are given opportunities to learn the skills

of mat weaving. In this way, the (weaving) skills are well nurtured and mat production

remains an important feature of the community.

Apart from the cultural significance of mat weaving as discussed so far, the last decade

has witnessed a new trend in production which might be labeled market-driven

production. The sale of ‘Iluvatu (special mats) has become economically important for

villagers in meeting financial obligations such as payment of school fees and other

educational needs of children. Increasing demand has given rise to a blurring of gender

boundaries, when males become involved in the production of iluvatu. Men nowadays

are increasingly involved in the preparation of fresh ‘ie (prepared pandanus leaves)

including cutting and boiling of the leaves of a special pandanus plants. A decade ago,

this was mainly women’s work.

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One of the men interviewed said that he had committed himself to full time weaving in

order to pay for his children’s high school fees. While weaving for some remained a

task necessary for upholding cultural traditions, Kolo has found the work an important

source of family income. He is proving to be a successful weaver from the ‘margin’ as

in the following comments:

Na noqu sa mai talitali ti’o ‘o, ‘eirau sa maqa ni qai leqata’ina na ‘a baleta na curucuru ni vuli. E rua na luvei ‘eirau e vuli ti’o i na secondary, $300 dua na term. Sa ‘a wale sara tu ga vei ‘eirau… Au maqa va’adua ni maduata’ina na noqu dau talitali. Levu na gauna ‘eirau la’I talitali I na olo ‘arai. Ra unu yaqona na vo ni tagane, maqa nib au ‘auwaita’ina, tali ga. (KF20: 17/07/10)

(lit: When I join her in weaving, we no longer worry about our children’s school fees. We have two children in secondary school, $300 each term. Paying is now no longer an issue. Weaving is also not an issue. I am not ashamed to be weaving. Sometimes we go to the village hall to weave. The other men may be drinking grog but it does not bother me, I just weave.)

While records of men performing women’s task is rare in Cu’u, Kolo’s involvement in

mat weaving raises other issues: Firstly the emphasis on the economic value of many

cultural practices seems to be breaking old gender boundaries, at least in terms of the

traditional division of labour. It can be noted that the demand for cash is redefining the

role of men and women in remote and rural communities. In the case described above,

weaving, a predominantly woman’s activity has been noted in this research to be a

skill that can be mastered by both men and women. Although the trend is not new (e.g.

Tuwere, 2002, Ravuvu, 1983; Nayacakalou, 1978; Sahlins, 1962 ), the shift in roles as

regards matweaving, shown in Kolo’s case, remains rare.

The above example has also exposed a weakening or absence of economic assistance

within the extended family. While cultural bonds are still evident in life events such as

funerals, weddings and the like, many economic and educational tasks have tended to

focus more on individuals rather than the collective. This could be an area of concern

for policy planners and scholarship sponsors, where students from remote and rural

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areas need to have better access to formal education in order to balance parents’ efforts

among mat weaving and food production.

5.1.3 Fishing

A life skill learned from an early age, it is quite common to see young girls fishing

along the sea wall in Waini’a or near mangrove trees along the shore in other villages.

On the other hand, young boys help their fathers with the fishing nets. A few boys

might carry spears and snorkeling gear and fish in the deep. Fish is a major component

of people’s diet. Women who are good fisherfolks are generally admired and referred to

by the Cu’u people as ‘liga ‘o’ona’. Although this status is not as high as the expert in

mat weaving, such fishing experts are popular fishing companions.

While the siwa (handline fishing) remains a feminine method of fishing, qoli (nets) and

nunu (deep sea snorkeling) are considered masculine types of activities. Hocart (1952)

reported that deep water fishing in Fiji was the occupation of men while handline

fishing was popular among women who, he suggested, had more time for leisure. The

men’s methods of fishing are used when there was a need for a bigger supplies of fish,

such as during village special events and functions.

Fishing, like weaving and gardening, is a gender biased activity in Cu’u. Women use

handlines and remain at the shallow waters while men fish in the deep sea. Men, seen as

the stronger gender, protect women and are assigned more difficult roles. While this

perception is predominant among village women, there are those who question such

strict demarcation such as a few who have tasted the freedom occasionally advocated by

foreigners. This may be illustrated during a boat trip I was about to take from

Wainigadru to my village in Waini’a, when three men ‘helped’ me to the boat while it

was close to the shore. After I got on, they then left me there in the hot sun while they

moved to talk under the shade of a baka tree. I asked myself these questions:

Why did they leave me in the hot sun? Why did they help me into the boat when I could have actually done it myself? Am I an outsider who is getting on in age and therefore need their help?(I’m not sure if they were all younger than

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me!). (PO17: 27/03/10)

Some answers came to me as I observed the three men on our way to the village. First,

they might have considered that I didn’t have the necessary skills as I had not lived in

the village all the time. Secondly women often get special treatment because they are

assumed to be the weaker sex by most men in the area. And thirdly, my comfort and

safety in terms of getting to the boat unhurt and dry was a priority concern. Men work

in the hot sun all the time and to these three men, the hot sun in which they left me was

not an issue. Closely linked to the importance of fishing skills is the requirement of a

good knowledge of the environment. For example, people know that certain wind

directions attract better catches compared to others. Likewise, the timing of tide and

moon are used to guide fishing decisions.

For frequent fishers, details about types of fish and where and when to catch them are

related to the weather and tides, as illustrated in a conversation I had noted during a

fishing trip

The wind (‘cagi) direction today does not allow for much fish. It is the (‘ceva’) which makes it a wrong time for fishing. Only if the wind blows from the mountain side (cagi vanua’) then there will be fish. The successful fishing trip last Thursday was because of the ‘cagi donu’ or right wind, which was ‘cagi vanua’ (PO26:3/04/10)

It is said that Captain Cook found Fijians to possess a deep appreciation of the

environment, as its underlying processes. These provided the foundation for daily

decision making. Activities were guided by the wind and wavesas well as the sky

elements (Henderson, 1933). The fact that some of this knowledge still exists today,

suggests that the knowledge is important to the owners of that knowledge.

Environmental knowledge reflects an intimate relationship between people and their

environment. Upsetting the environment means upsetting the wealth of knowledge of a

people whose life depends on natural resources. The degradation of the environment

therefore, is a major threat to the lives and livelihoods of people in the area.

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Fishing knowledge and skills remain generalized in Cu’u although fishing success may

vary. Those who belong to the tribe of traditional fishermen are known to excel in

fishing. In Waini’a, the relatives of Kuku Uga (described in Chapter 3) are known to be

successful fisherfolks. Their fishing trips are often ‘atoa (plentiful). Likewise, in other

villages, traditional fishermen know themselves and live up to what they are. Apisalome

indicated the above issue when he commented:

‘..’edatou na ‘ai wai, tou na dragowaca voli ga na ‘enai yaya. Maqa ni rawa ni leveya rawa na boto. ..na boto maqa ni rawa ni leva, ei na lawa. ‘Arai ‘eimami na ‘ena ‘awa, maqa ni rawa ni leva na neimami yaya ni ca’aca’a ni waitui’. (AM27)

(lit: .because we are people of the sea, we will always be interested in fishing equipment. We cannot go without a boat and fishing nets. That’s us the traditional fishermen. We cannot go without our working tool, to do with the sea).

The case above suggests thatIndigenous Knowledge is not just an isolated concept to be

studied, but a construct that is closely linked to identity, practice and experience and

therefore forms an integral part of the knower’s life. Langdon (2009) claims that such

knowledge is embodied with personal feelings, emotional and spiritual connectedness

as well as a deep passion and commitment, to be used to promote subjective well being

and life satisfaction in a community. Furthermore, Vygotsky (1962) reminds us how the

society and culture we grow up in is the biggest facilitator of our well being and

cognitive development. In this context, gardening, weaving and fishing as discussed so

far bear witness to Vygotsky’s theoretical ideas. Hence from the indigenous people’s

perspectives, such knowledge matter and should be protected as they help people define

who they are and what matters to them.

5.1.4 ‘Ena dau knowledge: Special Knowledge

An important vehicle that supports community life is the special knowledge. Though

special knowledge is held by individuals, the nature of the vanua is such that they are

used to uplift the community. This means that the holder of the special knowledge is

expected to use it to benefit the community. Special knowledge are either ‘open’ or

‘closed’ knowledge. Open knowledge may be accessed by the community and may be

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learnt by anybody, while the closed knowledge is kept within the tribe or lineage with

the right of access. I will attempt to discuss some of these in this section.

Carpentry

Carpentry skills are important in house and boat building projects. These skills have

become increasingly important in a modernizing community with new types of

dwellings and modes of transport. Interestingly, most of the concrete houses in the area

were built from home-moulded blocks. Such projects make the skills of modern

carpentry of high demand. Out of the four community carpenters, only one had some

kind of formal training, mainly vocational training received while in secondary school.

The others have learnt by observing ‘significant others’ in the community. Their skills

are evident in the concrete and wooden structures that have become special features of

the Cu’u community. One of the carpenters, Waqavoce Gauna has diversified into boat

building as noted below.

Au taya ga o au mai na waqa ni va’asoso’o, ma qai ca’ava e dua na waqa lailai ma rauta tio ga e tini’alima na fiti na ‘en abalavu. ‘arai ma sa yabai tini ‘a ono ti’o ‘in a se tini’a vitu. Qai oti ‘arai au sa te’ivu sara me’u ta waqa, tara vale…Na noqu vulica au ma dau la’I va’arari vei so era ma sa dau ca’ava tu, ia au ma maqa va’adua ni ‘u curuma rawa e dua na vanua ni vuli ca’aca’a. (WG2: 15/05/10)

(lit: I started by carving toy boats for water games. Then I built a small boat about 15ft long. That was when I was abou 16 or 17 years old. After that I started with boat building, building houses… I never went through any formal training).

Carpentry skills are transmitted to others through observations and imitation as

explained in Bandura’s Social Learning Theory (Berry et.al., 2006; Bandura, 1977)

where learning occurs through observing and copying other people’s behavior. In the

case above Waqavoce admits that he has learnt his carpentry skills through observing

others. Such skills and knowledge can be further used to develop village youth today.

Every village would have a ‘significant other’ (using Bandura’s term) like Waqavoce

above who can be consulted to assist youths in Fiji generally. This is particularly

important given the increasing rate of school dropouts in the country. I am of the view

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that villages can assist if an organized training programme is formalized to provide

‘social safety nets’ for young people through using the skills of people such as

Waqavoce.

Dauveiva’asucumi or Midwifery knowledge

The knowledge of midwifery has continued to exist and is regarded as important in

Cu’u. While the traditional midwifery practices were frequently used in the past, the

availability of nursing services around the area and access to the main hospitals in the

towns of Savusavu and Labasa has contributed to the near-extinct state of traditional

and local knowledge.

In the past, there was at least one midwife in every village. However, this research has

shown that Kuku Tupou, an 86 year old woman, was the only midwife left in the area.

She lives in the village of Waini’a. In relating her experiences, Kuku Tupou recollects

how she dealt with challenging cases including twin and breach deliveries. An earlier

report from the proceedings of the National Maori and Pacific Psychologies Symposium

in The University of Waikato about Kuku Tupou noted that:

When she delivers a breach birth, she makes sure there is silence in the room. Loud noise could startle the baby in the birthing process and could spread out its arms causing complications. Kuku Tupou recounted to us the care she took in delivering the rare .monozygotic twins,Ruci and Mili and the discovery of new knowledge and skills in the process. Mili and Ruci are now married with children of their own who were also delivered by Kuku Tupou.

(Tarabe and Naisilisili 2007: 55)

Kuku Tupou’s midwifery style is not just a matter of techniques and procedures. It is a

matter of the heart as she plays her role with care and love because she is handling

babies who are related to her. In her experience of more than 50 years, her delivery

record has been 100% successful. When asked about how she gained such special

knowledge, she admitted that she started by observing a ‘significant other’ and

perfected her skills through experience. Unfortunately, Kuku Tupou is the only one left

of her kind, in the community today.

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While Kuku Tupou’s knowledge is rare there is a lot we can learn from her model

service. She serves with love and care; has a relationship with both mother and the baby

she is delivering. I wonder how much time hospital midwives spend with pregnant

women today. Although it is outside the scope of this research, it may be worthwhile for

those concerned, to consider ways of establishing personal connectedness at the prenatal

phase of a baby’s life, as a preventative strategy for the types of social mayhems

experienced today.

Healing and medicinal knowledge

The community’s health depends to a large extent on local healing and medicinal

knowledge. They provide ‘first aid’ solutions for every ailment. These traditional

methods include veibobo (body massage) and unu wai va’aviti (drinking traditional

medicine).

Veibobo is applied to mascular pains. Pain at the joints and body could be diagnosed as

ro’o (knotted muscles), luqi (arthritis) or sasala (rheumatism). There is another type of

massage that is referred to as veitara which is a special massage for a problem called

cagi. The condition is a type of allergy that causes swelling on the surface of the skin.

The specialised healers for the various conditions are known by their specialization e.g.

daunicagi (cagi expert), dauniro’o, dauniluqi and so on.

Most healers understand their knowledge to be a gift of the ‘awa (geneology).

Sometimes the gifts are passed by impartation through the palm of the recipient’s hands.

Other times the gifts come alive through practice. This is expressed in the following

comment by an informant:

Ma se ‘ena dau ga o Na, ti’ina vei tinaqu. Au sa qai tubu cewa mai, au sa ‘ila ni dau veibobo o Na. Niu bobo’a ga na tamata ro’o au sa ‘ila…ca’ava gas a mai rawa tu yane. (RV13)

(lit: My mother was a healer. When I grew up, I knew Mum used to massage people for knotted muscles. So I did it. When I did, people just get healed)

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Unu wai va’aviti (drinking traditional medicine) is a first cure for headaches, stomach

aches and pains that are diagnosed to originate from internal organs. Medicinal plants

are often given on the advice of the matured people or experts in the area. When these

cures do not work, then the next step is usually to resort to medical help. Again like

midwifery, the ‘enadau share their healing knowledge with love because they are

connected to their patients.

5.2 The Knowledge of the Social World: Relational Knowledge

Ratuva (2007) refers to the knowledge of the social world as knowledge of the social

order and socio-cultural relationships. Most writers agree that relationship forms the

core feature of Fijian culture (Nabobo-Baba, 2005; Tuwere, 2002; Ravuvu, 1986) and

the Cu’u way of life is no different. A good relationship is maintained through

behaviours and actions that are regarded appropriate by the community at large. People

who carry themselves appropriately in the community are regarded as ‘matau’ and

good. He is said to be a ‘tamata dina’ (real person) as his whole conduct is appropriate

in the community. While there are many such people in Cu’u, Pauliasi Qaqa is an

example of a tamata dinaas captured by my field notes below.

He is relied upon during a soqo (gathering) to provide ti’au (yams) from his own garden. (He has more than a thousand in the garden). He also does commercial farming of yaqona and dalo in Balawaviri’i. He has a modern house in the village and he has also been a Qase ni Lotu (Church Elder) for many years. People respect him in return. He gives advice to the younger generation. He is a status people aspire to be in the community. (PO 40: 17/04/10)

A tamata dina upholds the status quo in the community. He is a pillar of strength for the

vanua (community), lotu (church)and matanitu(government), the structures that guide

people’s activities in the community. He is a model of the ideal life that people aspire to

attain. A tamata dina is above all, a keeper and transmitter of culture.

On the other hand, those who do not live up to the standards of the community are

regarded as qavuqavu (without manners) and vosalevu (disrespectful). A disrespectful

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person is shunned by the community. In a formal setting, it is normally the task of the

chief’s matanivanua (spokesperson) to deal with people in this category. Formal

meetings such as the boseva’oro (village meetings) normally address issues of concern

to the community and people are obliged to accept what transpires in the meeting. Apart

from the formal strategy, the ‘built in’ vanuastrategies from within the family arena is

used effectively. For example, an uncle or aunt or a big brother is free to vosa (talk) to a

relative who deviates from communal norms. Such a network is still intact in the

community and is often used first before resorting to the official village meeting. In the

next section, I will discuss some of the ways the Cu’u community maintain healthy

relationships.

5.2.1 Veiwe’ani (kinship ties)

Kinship relationships or veiwe’ani features as a key determinant of people’s behaviour.

People in the community know their ‘blood ties’ to one another or their links through

marriage. Recall in Chapter 5 this knowledge was an important issue to establish before

any serious interview could take place. Veiwe’ani is a base for respect which is

expressed through various ways in the community. Veiwe’ani socializes children into a

culture that defines whom to talk to and when to talk.

The relationship of ‘veiganeni’ for example, disallows a man and a woman who are

maternal cousins to talk or even be seen together on their own. To illustrate, Puna, a

boat captain, had to drop a maternal cousin in another village. They had a no talking

relationship. So he had to force another cousin, Disau whom he could freely joke with

to go with them on the boat ride. Such are examples of realities in the community. The

no talking relationship also exists between brothers who are married with families of

their own. They do not talk to each other unless there are serious issues to talk about.

Another (situation) involves the veivugoni (mother and father in-law) and their sons or

daughters in law. Such relationships are referred to by Ravuvu (1983) as ‘avoidance

relationships’ and by Nabobo-Baba (2006) as one aspect of ‘social space’. This feature

of veiwe’ani is taken seriously in Cu’u as it consolidates respect for the individuals and

affirms their place in the community. Veiwe’ani was found to be a ‘catalyst’ for action

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in Cu’u. In the following transcript, Sa’ula, the leader of the women’s group in Waini’a

shares her reasons for taking on the challenge of leadership:

Ra qai digita’ina me’u liuliu..au qai ciqoma…baleta ga niu va’awati to’a viro ga mai ‘e. Sa la’i mate o Rawaqa, au sa la’i va’asua. Sa tu viro mai o tinaqu me’u ciqoma nai tavi. Au sa ciqoma.. baleta na noqu veiwe’ani ‘ei na noqu tuta’ina na vanua.(RV2)

(lit: They chose me to lead…and I accepted it…because I am married into the tribe[leading tribe].When Rawaqa(her husband’s cousin and chief) died, I gave back the position. Then my aunty [current chief’s wife] asked me to take it up again. I accepted it.. because I am related and also it is my obligation to the community)

Expressions such as ‘if it was not for you, I would not give it’ confirm the catalystic

nature of veiwe’ani in actions people choose to take . The motivation to do things are

therefore based on ‘who’ rather than ‘what’ is to be done. Who is making the initial

talking or the arrangements to be carried out is important. At the other end of the

spectrum, the catalyst could also be responsible for the slowing down of reactions or for

absence of action. If the person or leader giving out the task does not live up to the

expectations of the community, then the people will not cooperate. In a critical

comment about leadership, a village elder gave this comment to the chief and his

herald:

Ni drau tu’una mai me ca’a na magiti, me la’i ‘au mai vei? Baleta o ‘emudrau ma maqa ni domomudrau na teiva’i ni magiti. E ‘aciva’i mai meda yadua na ‘ato magiti. A maqa na magiti…’Emudrau li ma maqa in ‘aya. ‘Eimami teya ti’o ‘o na ‘a me baleta na bula ni neimai matavuvale. Ia na ‘a me baleta na domomudrau, drau ma maqa ni ‘aya. (AM8)

(lit: When you called for food crops, where do you expect us to get it from? Because you two never at any time called out for us to plant food collectively. If you are calling out for a basket of food crops, there is none. You two never told us to plant. Whatever we are planting now is for family use. For your call, there is none).

Such comments are given by someone who knows his cultural role and is evident by

what he owns and does for the community. He speaks because he knows that he has the

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‘power’ and authority to do so. He also knows that the leader may not be living in

accordance with the community’s expectations.

Veiwe’ani may be expressed through the value of veiva’aliuci (giving others the first

opportunity).The elders in the community are given the first opportunity in everything

that is done. For example in expressing respect during meal times in a communal

gathering, Camari commented:

…na ‘ana maqa ni rawa ni da ti’o va’aveitalia, da ti’o va’aveitarataravi…ratou na ti’o na matua…sa soli na va’acegu sa qai te’ivu na yaumosa (CT26).

(lit:… during meals no one can just sit anyhow, we have to sit according to our kind…the elders first…when they have been excused to leave then it is open to the mass).

The continuity of this aspect of veiwe’ani can be explained when considering the

comments made by Nayacakalou (1978) about the structural principle for the ranking of

individuals in Draubuta village some decades ago.

“Within the household, the senior man exercises authority over everyone else; the men over women; the older over young…The age and sex are important determinants of interpersonal behaviour” (Nayacakalou, 1978:15)

5.2.2 Sharing

The principle of sharing is ingrained in the communal way of life. This stems from the

notion of veiwe’ani that underpins veirairaici (looking after others) and veinanumi

(thinking of others). Sharing is expressed in many ways.

Cooked food is normally shared through ‘ta’ita’i. This is a common practice where a

family shares their meal by taking a plate of food to another family. This is usually done

when there are visitors in the next house or when there is a speciality dish cooked by a

family. Tarabe and Naisilisili (2008: 53) noted that ta’ita’i serves to make sure that “no

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one is hungry, a visitor is welcome and to ensure that the welfare of old people…is

taken care of”.

From another perspective, Ravuvu explains that:

Apart from the reputation of the individual, the image of the group or even the village will be marred if visitors are not well hosted and fed. (Ravuvu, 1983:43)

Apart from sharing cooked food root crops and fish are also shared. In this case, sharing

is the responsibility of the one who fetches the food. It is therefore inappropriate to go

pass a household without sharing, especially if the family have seen the content of the

basket of food. It is therefore appropriate not to reveal the content of the basket as one

would be obliged to share it. This leads to the notion of “maqa” (none) as I noted in my

PO data below.

The notion of ‘maqa’ or nothing in this community differs from the western notion. When we say maqa, it means just sufficient for family use and not enough to share. Maqa generally refers to the surplus to share. (PO 40:17/04/10)

Bakalevu (2009) has noted the Fijians’ tendency to see the whole rather than the parts in

mathematical perceptions, cautioning that the description of an ‘empty’ room by a

Fijian does not mean that no one was there. The same principle may explain the

meaning of ‘maqa’ in Cu’u but in the context of food gathering as found in this

research, the reference of maqa is always about the surplus which is to be shared. Maqa

is a notion of humilty. When someone says ‘maqa’ or ‘va’alailai ga’ (only a little bit), it

is expressed to denote lowering oneself in status, an important quality of the vanua.

Apart from sharing food, sharing of one’s home is a norm and reaffirms veiwe’ani. This

is done especially during big gatherings such as deaths, weddings or church functions

when families billet visitors. The visitors are normally assigned to homes with the

closest blood links to the group. The host families are normally expected to either sleep

in the kitchen or find space somewhere else in the village. Ravuvu (1983) noted this as

an important feature of the Fijian way of life.

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5.2.3 Spoken words or vosa

I have chosen ‘spoken words’ as a notion since it does not only refer to an inner

cognitive or psychological intuition expressed through speeches, but it also refers to

the time in which the utterance can be appropriately expressed. Much of the community

is shaped by the spoken word. The notion is so important that a person who talks a lot is

frowned upon as “dauvosa” whereas someone who does not talk much is uplifted as

“galugalu” a quality that is becoming of a good woman or man. Nabobo-Baba (2006)

confirms this by stating that the loud and noisy are regarded as of lower status or poor

upbringing while the more respectable are quieter as they are expected to be thinking

and carefully selecting their words.

Words can earn someone’s respect or cause impaired relationships in the community. In

earning the respect of leadership, Epi, the chief of Cu’u commented:

..na mataqali tavi vata au tara ti’o o o au, sa ganita me sota vata na vosa matau, na vosa e ra’ora’o, e laulau me da rogoci ‘ina mai vei ira na va’arorogo…era na rogoca na va’arorogo, era na ciqoma na vosa. Arai na mataqali ‘a e bibi ‘ina na veiliuta’I oni, mo vaisuluta’ini ‘I’o ‘ei na ‘ena vosa e ‘ili’ili ‘aya, baleta na vosa e kaukauwa…e rawa ni sere’a na vanua se va’aduavatata’ina na vanua.. (EV3)

(lit: …with the kind of role I play here, it is important to use words that are appropriate, respectable, sharp so that we can be heard by those listening…when the listeners hear the words they will accept it. Those are things important to us in leadership positions, you clothe yourself with words that go with the status because words have power… they can disintegrate the society or bring people together…)

A similar finding by Nabobo-Baba (2006) confirms that the use of language including

the choice of words, intonation and speaker’s deportment are all important part of the

Vugalei culture. In public, vosa could be a stumbling block for some people as

avoidance of vosa could save people from making public mistakes or embarrassed by

being publicly critiqued. In the Cu’u community, the culture does not always have a

public place for errors. Whatever appears in public must be proper and there is no space

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for criticisms. This is quite different from western academia where thoughts and

theories need to be publicly critiqued.

Where negative words about other people are spoken, people are expected to keep it to

themselves and not to let the people concerned know. This is done in order to maintain

positive relationships which is of high priority value in the community. A relative

relayed to me her views on this issue and asserted:

E so maqa ni dau maroroya na vosa…na vosa ‘arai rawa ni va’aleqai ‘ina e dua na vuvale. Ni o au dau qai ti’o voli, caava ti’o noqu ca’aca’a, va’avo sara ga ‘e dua na ‘a dau la’ova I na ‘oro. Da sa ‘ila sara ga na dra’I ni bula ni marama viro e so. So ni ti’o noda vale, la’o mai ‘auta mai dua na vosa’arai. Sa la’o ‘aya, maqa nitu meda veimarroroi “ (RT7)

(lit: Some don’t keep words…words can spoil families. When I am in my home, I just do my work unless I have something to go and do in the village. We just know the type of life other women live. Some come they bring stories and we talk. When they go, they spread it again instead of keeping each other covered).

Keeping each other covered forms a strong network in the village and very often things

that happened long time ago are kept as “close” knowledge from those concerned. The

rest of the people may know except those closely affected. Sensitive stories about illegal

love affairs, people’s real fathers and the like are some of such stories that may be known

by many people except the persons concerned and their families. For example in a mixed

group interview, one of my relatives in Yasawa (the village next to my mother’s village)

recalled that my mother cried a lot on her wedding day because she did not want to marry

my father. She had someone else (a known relative) as her choice. Apparently, it was an

arranged marriage. The elderly woman who shared this story was senile but shared it

nevertheless to the discomfort of the whole group. My parents passed away many years

ago and this was the first time I had heard of this story. It took a senile elderly to reveal to

me a well guarded secret. When I asked other matured people in the community, I was

further surprised that they all knew about it!

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Apart from the screening nature of the spoken words, vosa can also be spread very

quickly through a strong social network often referred to as the coconut wireless. The

term coconut wireless has been used by newspapers and the public in Fiji to mean

rumours that are spread around through talanoa. I have discussed how the spoken word

plays a big role in the way Cu’u people carry themselves and do things in the community.

People in the village are aware of the presence of this network and are very selective with

the words they use not only in formal meetings but also in normal conversations

especially when people outside the nuclear family are present. Coconut wireless works

through a person hearing a news from another then spreading it almost word for word to

other people. The other people would do the same and hence spread the ‘news’

throughout the village. News is spread through other means such as kakase (gossip), an

exciting news or funny story. The following PO data is an example.

Stories spread very quickly. I notice that the funny stories I tell Ruci, are related back to me as if the people were there themselves. They thrive on these ‘new’ stories and joke about it. (PO 39)

In another observation, after three days of living in Nagasauva, I was on my way to

Tawa’e to attend the district meeting and stopped in Cu’u noting these issues:

I was surprised to know that the Cu’u gang knew already that the people from Gasauva had a feast for me. News does not only travel fast, but it is often blown up and exaggerated. The mobile extends news to Suva as well. (PO 64)

5.2.4 Event as Time

Events or happenings are used by the people of Cu’u to mark time. People remember

better when the marker is used rather than the year or date. It is quite common to hear

people talking about an event in relation to another. Events could be natural occurrences

such as these: gauna ni va’asigalevu for lunchtime, gauna ni va’avodo referring to high

tide for a boat ride, gauna ni siwa reffering to right wind and tide or gauna ni sigasigani

for a sunny day to sun out beddings and mats. The concept of clock time seems to be

relevant only for school and church activities as well as for catching the bus in

Wainigadru.

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A powerful event in this regard is the tide. Most of people’s activities in the area are

regulated by tide. Church meetings that require travelling from one village to another

by boat often depends on the timing of tide. Also people’s movements to and from their

gardens and even fishing trips depend on the tide. In recalling stories and happenings,

social events such as funerals, weddings, births and people’s movements to town or to

another village is often used.

Such findings are consistent with Tuwere (2002) who claimed that the early Fijians

referred to the year as caka yabaki (year making) which points to their perception of

time as ‘living through doing’. Tuwere further notes that the doing part coincided with

the activity that was best carried out during the period. For example, vula ko sakalo (eat

but not stated) the beginning period of all activities, vula i matua (month of maturity)

and the third phase was vula i doi (gardening preparation time). Ratuva (2007)

confirms the concept by stating that time to the Fijian is cyclic and repeats, reproduces

and refreshes itself as humans and their environment are part of the same interacting

being. So for the Cu’u community, the weight of interaction seems to lean towards the

event of interaction rather than the time itself.

5.2.5 Vanua Psyche

In researching the community, I learnt very quickly that there was a right way of doing

things. These right ways were often unspoken but people were expected to know. I am

referring to the notion as ‘vanua psyche’. Tarabe and Naisilisili have referred to the

concept as ‘vanua consciousness’ and define it as “the state of being culturally aware of

the knowledge and ways of the vanua and its appropriate applications to every day life”

(Tarabe& Naisilisili, 2008:52). A person living in the vanua is expected to be sensitive

and be alert to ‘read’ things correctly and act appropriately in response. I discuss below

some examples to illustrate this issue.

The descendents of Kuku Uga as explained in Chapter 3, are traditionally part of the

mataqali of Udu from Nagasauva but have continued to live in Waini’a. This means

that whenever they have family obligations, the communitydo not really have to

contribute as a large group called vanua. Once one of Tomu’s family members (Tomu

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was the leading elder) brought her children for the first time. This meant that another

vanua was coming to the community and Tomu’s family in Waini’a was expected to

prepare things in a big way. Fully conscious of Tomu’s unspoken concern, Epi, as chief

of the Mataqali Cu’ulevu organized the community to take gifts and food to Tomu, in

order to cover him. In relating this story, Epi mentioned:

O Tomu, da ‘ila va’asi’a e lewe ni ‘oro o Gasauva. Na gauna au sa rogoca ‘ina ni ‘au mata ni yalai mai o ratou na luvena, au sa qai ‘umuni ‘eimami vata tauco’o na lewe ni ‘oro, me sa qai dua va’adua neimami la’ola’o vei Tomu. O ‘oya dau ca’ava duadua tuga nona soqo… Sa dua na ‘a nona luluvu na siga ‘o ni eimami sa la’o yane. Tagi sara ga. (EV 11)

(lit: We all know that Tomu is from Gasauva. When I heard that his daughters and nieces were bringing the face of their children, I called the community together to go as a group to visit Tomu. He used to do his functions on his own…He was so touched that day when we went to him. He got very emotional).

Another aspect of vanua psyche can be observed when visitors come to the village.

Visitors do not usually go through an orientation session to show what is in the village

or who is who in the village, but they are expected to find out for themselves. This is

due to humility which prevents people from talking about themselves and what they

own, a behaviour condemned by the community as ‘ra’ara’a’ (show off).

Vanuapsyche is based on the expectation that people should know what to do. It places

the responsibility of learning and finding out the knowledge of the community on the

learner. This finding seems to show a clear mismatch with the traditional western

classroom style where learning is usually dictated by the exam oriented curriculum to

be the responsibility of the teacher.

5.2.6 Coping Mechanisms

Given the scarcity of opportunities and resources for survival in the area, the people of

Cu’u have resorted to indigenous means to cope with their changing environment. I will

highlight some of these in the next section.

Solisoli or traditional gifting of land for economic opportunity

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Chapter 3 covered how the people in the study areas may be disadvantaged by a

geographical environment that offers very little land for commercial farming. The

rugged and hilly terrains in the area leaves a narrow strip of land sufficient only to

support subsistence farming rather than commercial. Given such a limitation, the people

of Cu’u have resorted to the ‘solisoli’ as a solution to match new demands in their

changing lifestyle.

I had highlighted in 2009 how the solisoli (land gifting) has maximized opportunities

for the people of Cu’u through the enabling processes of vanua relationships. The 5,000

acre land now called Balawaviri’i was a traditional gift by the Vanua of Ravinivatu ,

who had a lot of vacant land in 1991 when the official handing over took place. When

the chief of Ravinivatu heard Simione Kanibuata asking for land in a Provincial

meeting, he responded on the basis of mere love and the feeling of being responsible for

his own kin.

The following reveals the details:

… the land was given because the old man from Seavaci in the provincial meeting chose to follow up and grant the wishes or request of the representative from Tawake. The commitment to give land was further enhanced after their introductions over yaqona where it was established that both men had ties to Namuka and that they were closely related by blood. In things Fijian, the gifting of land shows generosity of spirit associated with chiefly behavior and leadership. Leadership that is unique looks over and after those weaker and “lesser” in society – at least that’s the ideal.

(Naisilisili, 2009:14)

Now, twenty years later, the people of Cu’u have been able to participate in commercial

farming including yaqona (piper methysticum) and dalo (colocasia esculanta). Income

from the activity has enabled families to send their children to urban schools and remit

money, goods, foods and services back to their villages. Balawaviri’i is now an emblem

for success in the use of indigenous strategies to resolve economic challenges, as

reflected in this comment below:

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Au tug a va’ana’ro, ia na noqu qaravi vuli au dau biuta ‘ina na ‘oro meu lai teitei maiBalawaviri’i. Niu dau ca’aca’ tu mai Balawaviri’i na noqu va’ananu dau tug a i na vuli…Te’ivu na noqu ca’aca’a i Balawaviri’i au dau va’adeitaina ga na alou na noqu tuvatuva. Au teya va’a wasewase na yaqona me baleta na vuli , bau viro ga ‘ina na noqu suli baleta na vei yaba’i me baleta nodrau curucuru nayalai. …au ‘ila ‘eu ma tug a i ‘e ‘e ma maqa ni rawa. ..ni dua na yaba’i au rawa ni tea rawa e duanaudolu, au sama’in atoa, yaba’i la’o mai au teya viro e dua na udoulu…au sa teya oti toa ‘o e 500 me baleta na curucuru nei Pete ni fomu 7ena loma ni 4 nayaba’i mai ‘o. Saumi curucuru sara tu ga na yaqona. Au cavuta ga e vasagavulu na vuni yaqona, au rawata ‘ina ruanaudolu va nadrau na dola.(ST 5)

(lit: I’m just a villager, but I leave the village to farm in Balawaviri’i. When I work there, my mind is focused on education. I start by committing my plan to God . I schedule my planting of yaqona as well as dalo for payment of my son’s fees. I know if I stayed here in the village, I would not be able to do that. In one year I can plant 1,000 yaqona, I look after it that year and the next year, I would plant another 1,000. For this year, I have now planted 500 for Pete’s fees in Form 7 in 4 year’s time. I pay fees using money from yaqona. I last pulled out 40 yaqona plants and got $2,400 from it).

Solesoleva’i ( Cooperative work groups)

The people of Cu’u have utilized the principle of cooperation as a means of improving

development activities. Nabobo-Baba (2006) notes that cooperation was an important

ideal in the Fijian world and involves oneness, working together, unity of will and the

unity of spirit. All these qualities are encouraged as different work groups organize

themselves to achieve personal and family goals. Work carried out in this way is

referred to as solesoleva’i and is used as a means of coping with increasing demands

and costs.

For instance, women’s groups are thriving in the villages, each group comprising 5-8

women. Every week the women would meet to take turns working on one of their

member’s project. In Waini’a women would meet every Tuesday. It is entirely up to the

member which work needs to be done as to what happens but the hostess is expected to

provide lunch for everyone. Special projects may involve soni ‘ie (cleaning the

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pandanus), weaving, preparing oil, cleaning of house or flower gardens. Women

normally look forward to such meetings as this allows them to get a lot done in a week.

Men’s groups utilise similar strategies as the women’s. In March 2010, when hurricane

Tomas struck the villages, solesoleva’i allowed the men of Waini’a to reconstruct their

homes and gardens. In other villages too, men continue to work as a group to carry out

community work such as va’arijimodi, weeding the village lawn very early in the

morning when the night’s dew is still on the grass – a task that is easier before sunrise.

The farmers in Balawaviri’i organise themselves into what they call ‘schemes’. There

are five people in a group and like the women’s group, the men would take turns doing

each others work. However, the scheme work is all done in one week with each member

setting a target like 500 dalo plants or yaqona every month. This means,that the scheme

would only meet in one week a month, and each member would plant 100 plants a day

in the one week. The rest of the month is free for the individual members to do their

own work. At the end of the week, each member would have achieved the month’s

target of 500dalo plants.

Va’ayaleyale (Peep Holes)

I am referring to an extra sense that comes alive when people plan to travel. There is

really no words for it so I am referring to it as the notion of va’ayaleyale or ‘peep

holes’. Meyer (2001), talks about a sixth sense, awareness, which is developed by

culture, and involves paying attention to inner promptings, but peep holes is different.

Peep holes refer to people’s ability to read gaps that indicate other people’s plans of

travelling, in order to align one’s own travelling plan to save himself costs. The cost of

travelling in the area is very high. At the time of research, it cost $60 to travel by boat

from Waini’a to Wainigadru and $90 to hire a boat from Nagasauva.

This is unaffordable for a villager. It seems that the people in the area have developed

extra senses and are quite sharp with the way they monitor movements of people which

can be read by what they do. For example if someone is drying yaqona or copra then a

person planning to go to town would find out about what time he will be going so that

he can hitch a ride with a vodovodo (fare) of $10 or so. Knowledge of weddings or

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which people are in town and would be coming to the village are all used to monitor

people’s movements. The following conversation with one of my nephews confirms

confirms this knowledge:

Na tamata i ‘e sa dau matai sara ni ‘ila na veila’oya’i. E dua sa dei la’o ti’o, sad au v’arorogo sara se va’ararai sara ti’o me di’eva na ‘a e ca’ava ti’o e so viro, ‘E sigasigani niu, sa taroga sara ena la’o ena ica, ena waqa cava’. (PA 20)

(lit: People here are very smart about travelling. If someone is planning to travel, he/she has to look around to see what other people are doing. If a person is drying copra, then the one wishing to travel will ask when he will be going and which boat he will take).

5.3 Spirituality as Important Knowledge

Most studies show that the spiritual realm forms an important part of the indigenous world. For

example, in a study of the Kiribati culture, Teaero (2009) , refers to this realm as the world of

the departed and Nabobo-Baba (2006) refers to lagi (heavens) and bulu (afterlife) as

dimensions of the Fijian world view. In explaining the cyclic nature of the Fijian culture,

Ratuva (2007) refers to the spiritual realm as part of the cosmos which includes the ancestral

world and the world of mythology. Ravuvu (1983) has noted that:

Traditional Fijian belief recognizes the existence of invisible supernatural power in the form of spirit gods of a cosmological nature, as well as spirits of dead ancestors and other kinsmen. These spirits are part and parcel of the mortal world, watching over, guiding and controlling peoples’ activities and all other earthly things. It also accepts the immortality of the soul and a future life in another world. (Ravuvu, 1983: 85)

Such references help in defining the spiritual realm and confirm its place in the world-view of

indigenous people. This research found the spiritual dimension to be an integral part of people’s

lives in the community and information gathered indicate that spiritual knowledge plays a

central role in the way people expressed themselves daily. People believe in two sides of the

spiritual realm, Christianity and the native dieties.

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5.3.1 Christianity

The first side is Christianity with the belief in Jesus Christ as Lord and Saviour. This belief is

based on the bible and a person whose life expresses the values and teachings of the bible is

regarded as a good person. All of the people in Cu’u are Christians belonging either to the

Methodist Church or the Christian Mission Fellowship, a denomination introduced only about

30 years ago. Both groups believe in the guiding power of the Holy Spirit in their daily lives

and also a life changing experience with full submission to God. They also believe in living a

godly life that expresses love, kindness, humility, patience and unselfishness.

Both groups believe in going to church on Sunday, the day when Jesus rose from the grave and

defeated death and its powers. This belief becomes the centre of their faith in facing life’s

challenges daily. However, the two groups differ in their view of certain aspects of culture. The

Methodists regard culture as an important part of the Christian life.

The following interview data reveals this view:

Na lotu wesele e maroroya nai tovo, maroroya na ena bula na noda bula ni tu vata. Va a levu na mata lotu sa lao mai ni ua sa auta tani na noda itovo ,arai da sa va adinadina taina ina I sulusulu, eina va arau,ia io ga na lotu e maroroi eda. so e aya ni va atevoro tu na noda laolao ia rai..(WG7:15/05/10) (The Methodist Church preserves our customs, traditions and relationship. Some other denominations are taking away our traditions through their dressing, lifestyle. But the Methodist Church is keeping us together. Some think we do witchcraft but that’s their opinion).

The CMF view certain aspects of culture as demonic. For example, the drinking of yaqona is seen to be

an activity that calls in demonic beings. Likewise, there are certain parts of ceremonial speeches that are

directed to demons rather than God. The components oppose the biblical principle of worshipping no

other god but the true God of the Christians only. On the other hand, the Methodists regard the CMF’s

way of worshipping as rude, disrespectful and noisy. The criticism is directed at the use of musical

instruments such as guitars and organs as well as their clapping and constant use of ‘praise the Lord’ as

they lift up their hands and cry during the church service. It seems fitting for the CMF group to keep

their church building away from the village, not to disturb the ‘peace’ of the Methodists who are

normally quiet and do not cry during the service. Such differences were used as points of conflicts

especially in the early years when CMF was introduced into the community.

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Today the resistance is no longer as extensive and there is more integration amongst church members.

In the villages of Yasawa and Gasauva, where the bulk of the CMF members live, combined church

services are organized once every month in order to encourage unity between the two churches. The

Christian faith is now so well ingrained in the community that every function whether it be a village

meeting or solesoleva’i work group begins with a prayer.

5.3.2 Traditional Deities

Another side of the spiritual realm is occupied by spirits often regarded by modernizing persons as

tevoro. The word tevoro is a transliterations for devil, a word that was probably introduced by Tahitians,

the first missionaries to arrive in Fiji in the 1820’s (Tuwere, 2002). Prior to this the Fijians referred to

tevoro as gods or dieties.

Christians understand the side of the tevoro to be led by Satan who sends out spiritual beings called

devils or demons to overpower the work of the Christian God in people. People make reference to

Da’uwaqa, Daucina and Tuivatu as the main tevoro in the area. They are territorial demons that manifest

themselves in various ways in the area. Da’uwaqa is known to belong to the people of Ca’audrove and

is believed to protect the family line of the Tui Ca’au, the paramount chief in the province, the four

villages in the study belong to. It is said that the demon appears in the form of a shark or sometimes a

Fijian man with a buiniga (duck’s arse) a Fijian hairstyle used in the olden days. Daucina is a frequent

visitor in the area as it appears in the form of a light at night either in the ocean, along the sandy beaches

or sometimes along the mountains. When people try to catch it, the light keeps moving towards the

horizon.

Tuivatu is a territorial deity around the Udu Point area. It is one that is said to attack young women in

the past but seem to be rarely seen today due to the lotu (Christians). The last observable activity of this

deity was five years ago when a relative was reportedly unable to pass away despite being ‘worn out’.

She was over 95 years old. She had the power of a young person when she could punch open a locked

room. People heard her conversing with strange people in her room when she was alone. The day before

she died, she confessed that she had been accompanied by Tuivatu and Daucina throughout her long

life.

The deities are worshipped secretly by some people. In every village, either one or two people are

beita’i (accused) of being involved in va’adraudrau (sorcery). People normally avoid eating food from

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their house as food is a likely ‘doorway’ for bad spirits and could bring sickness and death to targeted

persons. In explaining the reasons behind resorting to va’adraudrau, Tuwere (2002: 161-162) explains:

‘Sorcery...on the whole,..is about the acquisition, exercise and maintenance of power. The battle for such power in order to dominate has been perpetual between rival parties in the life of the vanua. As a force that is disliked as much as it is feared, sorcery cannot be ignored in the village….Very often, its practice entails every motive that is dangerous and life-denying. It may be thwarting one’s pursuit in life or the total annihilation of selected persons in the community’.

5.3.3 A means of explanation

The spiritual realm is used to explain almost every negative situation that people come across.

There is a spiritual explanation to illness, failures, low crop yields, and other misfortunes.

Illnesses which are not curable by traditional methods discussed earlier, or by the medical

doctor, are almost certain to be caused by witch crafting. The following story by a cousin points

to the issue.

X.. was sick and almost died in around April-June this year. She was diagnosed with diabetes and almost lost two of her toes to amputation. However, a church pastor prayed over her and God saved her. The pastor told her that the root of her sickness was linked to Y village where there was a lot of witchcraft work going. She was advised not to visit the village until she got well. Before she came for Christmas, she asked the pastor again if it was ‘safe’ to go. The pastor approved and said that the devils were no longer strong and were not to be feared. They were now powerless (PO 3: 27/12/09)

In the above case, the spiritual realm did not only serve to explain the cause of her sickness, but

also provided the way out of it by the opposing power of the Christian God. The person’s

decision to visit the village was closely guided by the spiritual realm.

There are also unusual encounters with the environment that are believed to have an explanation

in the spiritual realm. In March 2010, houses and properties in the four villages of Cu’u were

badly damaged by Hurricane Tomas and accompanying tidal waves. The village of Waini’a was

worst hit. People talked about ‘cagi va’amatana’ (wind with eyes) and this created fear with

many people in the area. Some talked about too many people were pactising va’atevoro and

God (of the Christians) was making his judgment and punishing them. When the belief of ‘cagi

va’amatana’was brought closer to the family level, it caused an unspoken feeling of discomfort

on those most affected. Issues highlighted below link people to the spiritual realm as this

informant reminds us:

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This is another tragedy. An event that marks the end of a season for the Cu’u people and the beginning of another. It is a time of starting all over again. It will be interesting to see how the new generation will deal with their situation. One thing I know there will be a strengthening of the spiritual dimension and the Christian God Jesus Christ is going to reign superior in the new beginning.

(PO 16. 26/03/10)

The spiritual realm was seen to be much more eerie in the early part of the 20th century when

people were less exposed to the influence of Christianity.Stories about the vonugaga (refer to

Chapter 3), hadanother side to them. Before the ‘holocaust’, people saw a large kite, so big that

it overshadowed the sun as it hovered the sky. The kite was a Tongan tapa with strings made out

of magimgi (coconut fibre chords). This was seen to be a bad omen and indeed around the same

time there was massive dying of people in the area – the vonugaga incident. It was believed to

be a curse on the people of Cu’u and people started to disperse from the original site of the

village (my tugalala home) and resettled in Waini’a. The spiritual realm determined our

migrational routes and settlement sites today.

5.3.4 Mana: A social device

The people of Cu’u believe in the unseen power or mana that comes from the spiritual realm.

Nabobo-Baba (2006) refers to the notion as the spiritual force or power with which most things

in the vanua have life. Tuwere (2002) refers to mana as supernatural power or influence that

shows itself in physical force and excellence within a person. The people of Cu’u believe that

mana is a supernatural power that is attached to the vanuaandmanifests itself in various ways. I

will attempt to explain them in some detail below.

Vanua as mana

There are right ways of doing things in Cu’u and the right ways are dictated by the protocols of

the vanua.For example when there is a death, there is a proper vanua channel to follow to relay

the message. When Ponijasi Buli died on May 13th 2010 in Labasa Hospital, his eldest son,

Tuvada who was with him in Labasa rang his brother in the village to relay the message. The

immediate family (sons and cousins) had a meeting to decide collectively of what to do. They

all agreed to take a yaqona to the Tui Cu’u and inform him of the death as well as to give the

vanua the full responsibility of the function.

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The Tui Cu’u, through the matanivanua (spokesperson), then called for a village meeting to

present the yaqona as the death message was relayed. The right way is respected by the people,

in caution of the mana. It is believed that a breach of vanua protocol will bring a curse to the

people concerned. This is because the mana of the vanua has turned against them and has

brought unfortunate circumstances their way. When talking about unfitting behaviours observed

through family lines and comparing them to well mannered, educated and successful families,

one of the village elders referred to the power of mana using a metaphor:

Ni vuvu ga na wai mai ca’e, ena vuvu yarayara tuga. ‘E ma’are mai ca’e, ena ma’are viro ga yane i ra. (PO2: 27/12/09)

(lit: When the top of the stream has been disturbed and gets murky, the whole stream will get murky right to the end. When it is clear water, then it will be clear right through to the end.)

The mana of the vanua has now included lotu or the Christian way. There is a general belief that

adversities such as low garden yields, scarcity of fish as compared to the past, is caused by the

breach of many things including Sunday observance. The result is therefore the mana of God

and the vanua has left us.

The following interview with an elderly woman, referring to her young days highlights this

point.

’Eitou maqa va’adua ni dau ta’iwai na Siga Tabu. Na gauna au sa ‘a lelevu mai ‘ina, na ta’iwai, ta’I waitui se waidranu, maqa va’adua. Sa dau ‘aya o ira na matua ‘arai, Siga Va’arau me va’arau na wai, waitui, ‘a kece. ‘Ua ni dua qai ta’I wai na Siga Tabu. (CT12)

(lit: We never fetched water on Sunday. When I was growing up, we did not fetch water, sea water or fresh water. The old people used to tell us to prepare everything on Saturday. No one to fetch water on Sunday.)

Spiritually Charged areas

While more places were known to be occupied by spirits in the past, only a few are left in Cu’u

today. This could be due to the Christian belief in the power of God that supersedes every other

power, causing people not to be scared of spirits. Sacred places such as the grave yards are

believed to be spiritually charged and people are careful not to make too much noise around the

area. People who are seen around the grave area especially at night without any obvious reason,

are normally suspected to be doing witchcraft.

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There are other places in the area that are known to be tawa or spiritually charged. One such

spot is up in the mountains and is believed to be filled with veli (short heighted spirits). At the

top of the mountain, there is a fresh healthy vunidogo (mangrove plant) growing, an unusual site

for mangroves. According to people who have seen it, the mangrove has remained as one tree

and has not reproduced any other all these years. This unusual feature of the place validates the

belief in the presence of the short spirits. There are also caves in the area where human bones

may have been left from the cannibal years. These are known as ‘i’o. While most of the caves

probably had other bones from the past, these ‘i’o mainly contain human skulls. Those

suspected of witchcraft are thought to sometimes obtain their power from the bones in the ‘i’o

caves.

5.4 Validating Knowledge

The knowledge discussed so far is rooted in the Cu’u culture. Researchers have noted that the

way knowledge is created, validated, used and shared depends on the culture (Langdon,2009;

Nabobo-Baba, 2005; Gegeo and Watson-Gegeo 2002). This is particularly important as the

structures, processes and complexities of the vanua, are all part of the way people frame their

ways of knowing.

The people of Cu’u use their senses to validate what they know to be true. This means that they

closely rely on empirical proof through seeing, hearing, touching, smelling, tasting and also

what they feel in the body before establishing truth. In the following interview data for example,

SB was referring to a past event and commented:

Au maqa mada ni rogo talanoata’ina. Au raica sara ga e mataqu... Au ti’o sara ga ena gauna ma ca’a ti’o ‘ina. (lit: I did not even hear it from anybody else. I saw it with my own eyes…I was actually there when it happened). (SB8)

SB has emphasized truth through seeing and being present in the event himself. In other words

he was part of the scene so he was convinced that what he was recalling was the truth. Similar

findings have been noted by Nabobo-Baba, (2005) on the Vugalei culture, Gegeo and Watson-

Gegeo (2002) on Kwara’ae culture and Meyer (2001) on the Hawaian culture. The finding

points to the fact that knowledge must be validated through the body (via the senses above)

before it can be accepted as truth by indigenous people.

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Furthermore, like many things of the vanua, truth is not an isolated piece of information to be

accepted readily. The carrier of the information must be of credible status before it becomes

truth. Meyer (2001) found that the speaker of the words and its manner of deportment seemed to

be more important than the actual words spoken since her culture of study placed an emphasis

on the actual experience of doing. So the person carrying the truth matters. In Cu’u, such people

include a tamata dina(real person) as described earlier and a woman who is quiet but produces

quality mats whenever it is demanded of for a communal gathering, can be carriers of truth. In

addition, a chief who is ‘bibi’(weighty)in the way he speaks and carries himself around is

listened to as people know that what he says is truth. In recent times, educated people such as

teachers and church people for instance, talatala (reverend) and dauvunau (preachers) have also

been carriers of truth, on the condition that they meet the expectations of the community.

Sometimes truth may be validated through dreams and the supernatural. For example, someone

saw her deceased mother in law in a series of dreams. The mother in law looked disappointed in

the dream and told her that her ‘house’ was leaking and needed repair. When she shared the

dream with her husband, they knew straight away they had to perform the overdue customary

function of cementing her grave. After that, it did not take very long for the family to perform

the ritual as the dream message was accepted as truth. It appears that some traditional activities

are motivated by dreams and fear of the supernatural, that if things are not done, a curse would

follow them.

Such ways of validating truth clearly contrasts the scientific paradigm which demands the use of

empirical evidences that are measurable and subject to specific principles of reasoning to

validate truth (Usher and Edwards, 1994). The differences have led to misleading interpretations

that misrepresent indigenous capabilities. For example, in validating information acquired in

schools, the scientific method has used standardized tests to measure information drawn from

the empirical domain and overlooks the differences in students’ opportunities to access, ways of

knowing and use of information available. Results obtained from these standardized evaluation

are claimed by Ferreira (2001) to be distorted and unfair as they are based on educational

opportunities in relation to wealth distribution rather than the students’ academic abilities.

Those students who can afford to access information through text books, internet and extra

tutoring pass the standardized tests while those who cannot afford it and have a different way of

interpreting it fail. Unfortunately, educators use these test results to sort out the ‘educated’ and

‘intelligent’ and the ‘failures’. Such unrealistic classifications ignore important elements of

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access and cultural ways of knowing, which also define the quality and quantity of knowledge

attained by individuals (Battiste, 2002).

5.5 Transmission of knowledge

Knowledge transmission is embedded within the vanua life, and involves the teaching and

passing on of knowledge that are crucial for the continuity of culture (Thaman, 1999). The

process is deliberate and involves learning knowledge, skills and values from elders in society

or those who are experts by birth or experience. In transmitting knowledge to indigenous

Fijians, it may help to consider pedagogy and learning in the following light.

5.5.1 Pedagogy is part of knowledge

This study shows that pedagogy is an integral part of the philosophy of knowledge and

ways of knowing in the Cu’u culture. In this discussion, pedagogy is taken to mean the

process of educating, instructing or teaching. It refers to the activities that impart

knowledge or skills (Sadker et.al, 2008). Likewise in Cu’u, the knowledge of vanua and

the vanua ways are part of the pedagogy that frames the way knowledge is

transmitted.For example, a formal setting in yaqona drinking, the teacher is usually the

matanivanua, from the ‘talking’ clan. The seating arrangement has to be appropriate

with the most chiefly at the top end while the rest are arranged in order of social rank,

towards the ta’ona or bowl of yaqona. Considering that yaqonadrinking is a custom

that predates its use in written language, with a drink that has remained in use despite

competitions from available alternatives such as alcohol and marijuana (Naisilisili,

1998), it takes an effective pedagogy to keep the knowledge remaining till today.

In a lesser formal context, like ‘iluvatu weaving, pedagogy still forms the knowledge

and ways of knowing. The teacher in weaving is an expert relative with whom the

learner has a ‘free’ relationship. The learner therefore would avoid someone she has a

‘no talking ‘relationship with. The appropriate setting allows the process of learning to

be carried out within the familiar culture of the learners.

This finding is crucial when compared with the Vygotskian view of pedagogy,that

points to the central place of culture in cognitive development. The view emphasizes

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that the child’s entire world shapes not just what he knows but how he thinks (Bodrova

et.al, 1996).

5.5.2 The inner being has to be engaged in learning

While most of the things are done collectively and involve the community participation in Cu’u,

learning is one area that rests on the individual attitude and convincing of the learner before it

takes place. Very often, elders would give advice such as this:

Qarauna mo ti’o vata ‘ei yalomu e loma ena gauna o ca’aca’a ti’o ‘ina. (lit: Make sure that you are with your spirit and soul when you are working).

Such advice would be given in the context of teaching volavola (intricate mat designs) for girls

or using a sharp tool such as a knife or chain saw; a situation that demands full concentration

and cannot afford to allow the learner to make mistakes. When work done is below standard,

people would ask: Ma tu mai vei na yalomu?(where was your spirit?). Similar findings have

been reported by Nabobo-Baba (2005) and Bakalevu (2009).

Learning is not only the business of the mind, but happens when the spirit and soul realm is

engaged. In other words, knowledge must be internalized in order to remain. This process is

clearer when consideringthe claim by Coetzee and Jansen (2007), that the inner being is a

pliable self inside a person. The inner being has the capacity of being shaped if the content of

what is deposited within the person causes him to radiate into a new being. It is the part of the

person that has the capacity to influence the teacher and the teaching process itself. Recent

researchers suggest that the inner being referred to as ‘emotional intelligence’, has the capacity

to bring about the best potentials in a person and is therefore a pursued research area in the

business world today (Salovey et al. 2007; Coleman, 2005).

5.5.3 Learning takes place when there is a bond between the teacher and the learner

In every learning situation in Cu’u, the teacher is someone related in some way to the learner ,

often it is one of the parents, an uncle, an aunt or a cousin. There is always a bond between

them. When Saula, one of the successful farmers in Balawavir’i who has sent his children to

secondary and tertiary education, was asked about who taught him the idea of planning out his

yaqona yields, he said:

‘o tata Mitai ..,ma va a sala tain yau o oya … me baleta na vuli .ma aya o oya vei yau ,nio tei tei mo tea vei ya dua na udolu ni vei yadua na yabai

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,ia ni sa lai fomu lima o luvemu tea rawa e dua nai wase ni yaqona me tio viroga ina dua na udolu me baleti oya ina vanua cava a deilao ina. Baleta ni rau dei lao na luvemu mo ua viro ni qai dei vaa yasa voli…mo nanuma tio me sa ua ni tiotiovata na vuli mo qai mai yasava na a ni vuli.me qai tiotiovata na vuli mo sa taba a ga bauo na nomu taga sa soli na a ni vuli,.. mo ua ni dau va a lasani io mo dau dinau I oronivuli…’ (ST3:13/05/10)

(lit: It was Uncle Mitai who advised me about education…he told me to plant 1,000 yaqona every year and when my son reaches form 5, I am to plant extra 1,000 to stand by for his tertiary fees. His advice was also to pay fees at the beginning of the term when school starts and never to allow myself to be in debt to the school).

The above example points to the richness of the Fijian learning environment which is

surrounded by a complex system of contextual relationships. The appropriate approach for

learning therefore is best based on the Larmakian model which considers a person as a

relational being with an identity that comes from ‘sharing food, water, land, spirits, knowledge,

work and social activities (Linnekin &Poyer, 1990). Based on this model, Comstock (2005) has

developed the Relational-Cultural Theory (RCT) which recognizes connectedness as a key

determinant of a person’s being (Comstock, 2005). Connectedness does not only create a bond

between the teacher and learner, but also creates a deeper sense of obligation for the learner to

get as much as possible from the process (Nabobo-Baba, 2008).

In the Fijian world, the deeper sense of obligation is created with the knowledge that the people

providing the support in the learning process are related to the learner. Vygotsky (1982) has

noted that the people surrounding a child provide crucial support for a person’s development.

Wood and Middleton (1975) refer to this support system as ‘scaffolding’ which refers to the

ways the parent or teacher creates a supporting structure around the child to assist in learning.

This is only possible when there is a bond and trust between the learner and the ‘scaffolds’. In

the traditional Fijian context, learning was part of the way they lived and did things everyday

and the scaffolding structure was normally provided by the parents and the extended family

members in the village. Sadly, most Fijian children now grow up in an environment that lacks

the necessary scaffolds to uphold them socially, economically, psychologically and emotionally

due to ‘absent parents’ who have left home for economic gains overseas (Tarabe and Naisilisili,

2007).

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5.5.4 Learning environment requires minimal verbal expressions

A learning session in the Cu’u community is normally characterized with silence. In mat

weaving for example, the teacher first shows the learner who watches from the side. When the

learner is ready, the teacher sits at the side and watches the novice weaver handling the ‘ie

(pandanus) as she interlaces the strips one over the other. There is no talking. Now and again

the ‘teacher’ would correct the learner by showing her how to handle the strip and say one or

two words such as ‘maqa’ (no) or bau ‘o (this way). The same would apply to someone

learning how to make coconut oil. She would be expected to just do it and consult the expert

who would check now and again on the right time to remove out of the fire. There is minimal

verbal expressions in the process.

Sanders (1989) reports of a similar finding in the Kamasu culture of Papua New Guinea where

learning through showing or be geginvolves observation and imitation of behavior.

Furthermore, Ritchie and Ritchie (1979) had noted that socializing children in traditional

society, rarely used elaborate verbal explanations. An extension of this world view regards

verbalizing as a sign of disrespect. A person who talks and asks questions in the process of

learning is seen to be siosio orcheeky (Nabobo-Baba, 2008).

5.5.5 Learning is the responsibility of the learner

The socialization in the vanua of Cu’u has taught people to search for knowledge and because

the decision to learn has come from them, it is their own responsibility to learn rather than

anybody else’s. An elder related this to me in the following:

‘Ena balebale na mate ei na bula ni vanua sa dui tu vei eda. Ia sa dodonu me eda va a yasava, tautau vata ei na taueni ni vanua, na neimami tauena na yau bula,e tu va a i vola tu, viro ga na ena lawa baleta ni eimami dei ila eimami na taro ina ena vale I Suva. Ena balebale sa na va’atau sara toa ga vei io mo na va ayasava, ia e o maqa ni va ayasava ena maqa ni va atulewa taina rawa. ..e va a o na maqa ni va a yasava o na maqa ni ila ,o na maqa ni rawata’ (WG 6: 15/05/10)

(lit: This means that the life of the community is dependent on us. And it is our duty to search for knowledge to allow us to survive, as in the land issues and distribution, it’s our duty to go and inquire about the laws in Suva and find out about these things. This means it is really up to us if we search for it we will find it, if not, then we can’t. It is up to our own decision making whether we can get the knowledge or not).

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The above view may have implications for learning amongst a significant number of indigenous

Fijian people. Firstly, knowledge is something that is searchable and can be found. This means

that the decision to learn comes from the learner rather than from someone else such as the

teacher. Secondly, the responsibility of learning lies on the learner and not the teacher. In mat

weaving, it is not the responsibility of the expert weaver to look for a learner, but it is the

learner herself to ask for learning. Similarly, during the process of learning, the learner herself

will make sure that she learns by concentrating on the task throughout the learning process. This

has important implications for school and other formal types of learning.

5.5.6 No room for errors

Children in Cu’u have been socialized into a learning environment where the culture does not

normally allow for errors or mistakes. As children keep a close observation of adult

performance, they would only dare practice after obtaining a level of confidence. There is little

praise for correct behavior, which contrasts with Skinner’s notion of positive reinforcement

(Skinner, 2002). It is only when errors or absences are noticed that the adult intervenes.For

example, the use of degrading terms such as yadresa, ta’urua and risirisi’ are meant to check

inappropriate female behavior in Cu’u. For men, it is derogatory to be referred to as yalewa or

female. Statements such as O i’o yalewa?(Are you a woman?) or Ca’aca’a ni yalewa(girl’s

work) are used when a male does feminine tasks or displays cowardice behaviour. In the same

way, it is degrading for a man to be referred to as va’asegasega yalewa (socializing with girls)

or va’asegasega tagane(socializing with boys) for a woman.

This latter situation usually means that a man likes to be with women all the time and hence his

status is being lowered. The same applies to a young person who is murimuri

yalewa’(following girls), or murimuri tagane(following boys).Although negative expressions

may normally cause discomfort in society, the Cu’u Fijians have learnt to avoid such negative

situations by conducting themselves appropriately. The learning process therefore leaves very

little room for any verbal interaction as the practically orientated processes of learning does not

normally allow adults to intervene except to check inappropriate behaviour.

5.6 Summary

This chapter has attempted to present the study findings of important knowledge that exists in

Cu’u. It is only a ‘snapshot’ of the vast pool of knowledge that defines the people and their

environments as well as the complex relationships that exist within the vanua. The knowledge

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systems have been discussed under three main themes; the knowledge of the territory,

knowledge of relationships and the knowledge of the spiritual realm. Such categorization is

intended for ease of discussion rather than a deliberate attempt to demarcate structures. The

chapter has also highlighted the various ways the Cu’u culture validates and transmits vanua

knowledge.

In summary, a glimpse of this chapter is like taking a magnified view of the ‘iluvatu mat. The

structure is made up of ‘ie strips which were at some stage in single forms. As loose strips, they

probably appear like any other cellulosic strands around the place, but when put together to

prepare for weaving the ‘iluvatu, their values changed and they are not simply lying there at the

corner of the house, but they are there for a purpose. Likewise, the individual knowledge

discussed in the chapter, may have been ordinary indigenous knowledge used and taken for

granted by the people of Cu’u, but when analysed from the perspective of Cu’u culture, they

speak volume about the origin, shape and meaning of people’s identities and can no longer be

ignored.

Looking closer at the mat structure, is the interlacing pattern of the weaves formed by the strips

discussed above. At the centre of each knowledge, is an ‘ai Cu’u (a person belonging to Cu’u),

who does not only hold the knowledge but also uses it to interact through veiwe’ani

(relationships) to achieve an ideal life in the culture. In the process, the culture is sustained and

the important knowledge is transmitted. The ai Cu’u is also the person that matters in the

validation and transmission of the knowledge. As the strips interlace compactly, the whole

‘iluvatu mat gains cohesion and is able to resist external factors that may cause degradation.

External factors such as rain and wind could harm the mat. In the same way, as individuals play

their role and use their knowledge in the community, there is stability and cohesion in the Cu’u

culture.

A closer look at the mat may show gaps between strips, and ‘ie flaws sticking out of the

surface. Similarly, any gaps and flaws in the community has been handled quite effectively in

the vanua which has used its own structural systems as a ‘safety net’ to resist the effects of

external forces such as the school system.

Lastly, when zooming around the outer edge of the mat, an unusual thick edging formed by a

concealed chord around the mat shows up. Although it is not seen, it plays an important role in

providing the straight edge around the mat and also the stony strength from which the name of

the mat is derived, ‘ilu refers to the process done to the edge and vatu means stone – ‘iluvatu

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means edge of stone. Similarly, the culture is guided by the spiritual realm which is unseen.

The realm is their source of knowledge and strength which defines life’s directions everyday.

The next chapter will look at knowledge which have changed and disappeared. It will also

examine Vatuvula District School as an institution representing the formal knowledge system

used in the school.

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CHAPTER 6

CHANGING KNOWLEDGE AND THE SCHOOL

6.0 Introduction The previous chapter focused on the knowledge system of Cu’u and how the vanua

validates and disseminates its knowledge within the Cu’u context. This chapter will

examine aspects of the knowledge system that have either changed or disappeared. The

discussion will attempt to trace the power behind the changes and show who decides

what is important knowledge in the process. The chapter then focuses on the school as

an institution that generates knowledge, and becomes a site of struggle for power as it

disseminates its truth. This is done through a case study of Vatuvula District School.

6.1 Background

Anthropologists and other social scientists have portrayed island societies variously as

‘microcosms’, ‘little universe’, ‘sea-girt isolates’ and ‘closed universe’ (Vayda,1968) to

describe boundaries normally set by the sea. The descriptions may apply for the Cu’u

community except that Cu’u’s geography is further compounded by the range of mountains

between two spans of sea as described in Chapter 3. These descriptions might give the

impression that the people of Cu’u are undisturbed and free of global influences. This is simply

not true.

Cu’u knowledge and practices, like those of other indigenous cultures, have been challenged

from encounters with new ideas and practices that now constitute a significant part of

theireveryday realities. In a number of cases, such relatively new experiences and knowledge

have enhanced Cu’u people’s understandings and ways of doing things. New technologies, for

example, have been used by people to improve their lifestyles, as is the case with daununu

(deep sea fishermen)who have used modern technologies to dive for beachedemers that they sell

through local agents. Such practices have changed people’s perception of some marine

organisms which are now viewed as valuable resources to be exploited rather than ordinary sea

creatures they once were.

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Likewise, mobile phones have added a new dimension to people’s information networks. These

modern changes have impacted the Cu’u knowledge system, causing it to change and become

modified. These changes also provide new challenges for the vanua system which normally

plays a mediating role between the external and internal forces of change.

As the external influences of education, technology, economics, politics and the overall global

forces pose challenges upon the vanua environment, the family needs and practices within the

vanua create new sets of pressure which become evident in the changing values of Cu’u

community as summarised in Figure 8 below.

Figure 8: Forces of change showing the mediating role of Vanua

Through this process some knowledge, considered important by some people have changed or

simply disappeared. The big question the Cu’u community (and me as an insider)are now

asking is: Why? Are we standing deep enough in the soils of our ‘microcosm’ or are the tidal

waves, breaking through our sea walls, going to wash away almost all that we own? Are we

going to dig our indigenous feet deeper into the Cu’u soils, our familiar turf, our identity – in

order to make sure that we are securely anchored? Are we doing something to counter the

forces of these waves?

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While such questions are important for this study, the kinds of changes that will be examined

here will be viewed against the background role of the school as an institution that generates its

own knowledge. In particular this chapter focuses on the foreign nature of the structure and

processes of the school and how these conflict with Cu’u vanua ways. The school is therefore

presented here as a site of struggle between two different systems, the vanua knowledge system

and Western knowledge systems. The interest of this study lies in the opportunity to discern a

middle or third space that may help stabilize the current conflicting and ‘volatile’ spaces of the

school and propose possible solutions for this educational dilemma.

This chapter is divided into four main parts: i) the changing face of Cu’u; ii) the changing

knowledge system; iii) the school as a site of struggle using Vatuvula District School as case

study; and, iv) a summary of the chapter.

6.2 The Changing face of Cu’u

Although a detailed account of Cu’u as my site of study is already provided in Chapter 3, I

have chosen to focus on two areas of change namely the village setting and communication

issues in order to highlight the types of changes that had taken place.

6.2.1 The village setting

On approaching any of the four study villages from the sea, one can straight away notice that

the two largest buildings are the church and the village hall. These are prominent wood or

concrete structures. Thatched houses common some thirty years ago, have gone, being replaced

by modern wood and/or concrete houses. Furthermore, schools are not visible from a boat as

they are located away from the villages. Altbach and Kelly (1978) had noted that the colonial

schools were set up in places far removed from the realities of the indigenous people as they

became alternatives rather than as compliments to the indigenous educational practices. Such a

scenario speaks volume to an ethnographer as the setting is not only a reminder of missionary

and colonial legacies, but also an indicator of changing ideals in Cu’u.

With the apparent perception of the ideal lifestyle being that of bula va’avavalagi

(modern life style), town rather than village life seems to be preferred. The villages

have therefore experienced outward movements of people from the four villages of

Cu’u depriving the area of some 50% or so of its total population over the years (Baba,

2011). A significant number of these people either farmin Balawaviri’i, in the district

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of Vaturova or live in town, leaving a village population that are predominantly elderly,

women and primary school aged children. The family sizes have markedly decreased.

Although the Fiji Bureau of Statistics (2010) records the average household size of rural

families in Fiji as 4.8, the figure does not show that around ten households in the four

villages of Cu’u have sole members (mostly women) living on their own as the rest of

the family members are in the farming areas or working in town. The figure also does

not take into account for absentee households who only visit their homes occasionally.

6.2.2 Communication

The use of mobile phones for communication has become an important feature of the Cu’u way

of life. The geographical distance is made shorter through this method of communication and

has saved time and energy for people in various ways.

My PO data below has caught an example.

‘Mobiles are handy. Today two sisters – Maria and Akisi went fishing. Girls about 14 – 16 year olds. Their father Lote rang Epi in my tugalala settlement to check on them as it was getting dark and they were taking longer to return’. (PO12: 5/01/10)

Mobile communication has transformed many aspects of village life. Villagers save money

since people who want to travel by boat to Suva from Savusavu or catch the bus in Wainigadru

simply use the phone to confirm their itineraries. In the pre-mobile era (about ten years ago),

people used to travel to and wait in Savusavu for the boat schedule. Mobile phones are also

beeing used to keep in touch with family members who live in towns, and to share with them

their whereabouts, what they are doing and what they are eating. Cu’u as a microcosm or

closed universe is no longer confined by natural boundaries. Information Technology, in the

form of the mobile phone, has opened up a whole new world to village people as well as help

expand the boundaries of the vanua.

6.3 An evolving knowledge system

The above changes are like the ‘tips of a umu’ (a huge boulder) submerged in the sea, but have

had much wider implications on the culture and lifestyle of the people of Cu’u. The cultural

foundations of Cu’u seemed to have been shaken as many changes are experienced by the

people. I shall use certain features of the iluvatu cultural foundations to illustrate changes to the

knowledge system of Cu’u. I shall examine the notion of inclusiveness, space (respect), starting

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strands (as the family) as well as the (woven) different designs, as unique features. This is in

order to allow flow of thought as each change is discussed and to avoid repetition of issues

already discussed in previous chapters. Metaphoric references are used to represent various

aspects of the Cu’u culture, and the changes that are identified refer to those which had occurred

in the last 100 years, from data obtained from study respondents, especially the elders in the

villages.

6.3.1 The diminishing size of the ‘iluvatu: Diminished value of Inclusiveness

The ‘iluvatu is traditionally a very large mat, big enough to provide seating for everyone.

However, modern houses no longer have large open spaces (compared to the traditional bure)

and now require smaller sized ‘iluvatu, ranging from the ‘atu dua veimama’ (one and a half

arms spans) to ‘atu rua (two arms length spans), with the ‘atu tolu’ (three arms length spans)

being rare. Similarly inclusiveness, while still an important principle in the community, is no

longer as open ended as it used to be. In the past people knew their responsibilities and

commitments to one another; today things are different as new influences seem to take

precedent over the core values in the Cu’u way of life. Inclusiveness, according to some elders,

appeared to be more selective and contextual nowadays.

For instance, the notion of inclusiveness allowed men from outside village clans to live in the

village with their wives and become full time members of the community. Most of these men

are known as liga kaukauwa (strong hands) and they know they have to participate in the

ca’aca’a ni vanua (vanua works) in order to reciprocate the generosity of their hosts. On the

other hand, men who do not participate in vanua activities can be easily excluded as the vanua

does not normally need them as noted in the following observation.

When someone rang today to say that a relative was about to die in town, the common feeling in the village was openly expressed by X (name withdrawn) who said: Dou buluti ‘oya yane I tauni. Ua ni ‘au mai i na’oro. Tamata maqa ni yaga duadua I’e. Tamata maqa na betena.

(PO33:10/04/10)

(lit: You people burry him in town. Don’t bring him to the village. He is not worthy anything here. He’s a useless man)

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The relative in the case above had lived in town most of his adult life, receiving Social Welfare

funds together with his wife who died two years previously. The community saw his situation as

something he could have avoided by coming back to live in the village, after all, he did not have

a ‘government’ job9 to keep him away. Therefore he should not have expected the village

people to take care of his funeral arrangements.

The above scenario indicates that it is not enough to be born into the relational space of Cu’u,

as all persons are expected to fully participate in village life - to, ‘show their face’ and

contribute to the activities of the vanua in order to be included. Collective ownership of

resources would appear to be a crucial issue in the maintenance of Cu’u culture and those who

do not contribute to this are not included. This is particularly important at a time when

economic considerations are important for the welfare of the people. Unfortunately, it is usually

economic considerations that influence who is in and who is out.

6.3.2 Loma lailai: Altered Spaces –Diminished value of Respect

The (reduced) size of the ‘iluvatu mat indicates that the space between persons is also smaller.

In a gathering, the size of the space between people denotes respect and humility. A chief, for

example, usually sits at the upper floor end of a room while the people sit at the lower end. The

larger the space, the more respect is shown between people and the chief. Many adults

expressed disappointment with the apparent reduction in the degree of respect shown by people

today to chiefs, blaming a changed lifestyle as the main cause. The various types of space are

discussed below.

Communication space

As mentioned earlier, some aspects of culture have been challenged due to modern imports such

as the use of mobile phones to pass on important messages of the vanua. The following excerpt

from an interview with the Tui Cu’u (Chief of Cu’u) helps to illustrate this:

Sa mai veisauta’i, e levu sara na ‘a, vabibi ena sala ni va’auI tu’utu’u. Ni sa la’o mai na mobile sa va’arawarawata’ina na va’adewata’i ni tu’utu’u. I mada ni ra ti’o na matua, ni au e dua na tu’utu’u, tauvata mada mai Tawa’e i na yavusa ‘o, era na muria mai na ‘ena salevu. Ia ena gauna ‘oni, dua gasa to’a mai ‘arai a qiri mai Waini’a. Sa bau sara ga ‘arai na va’au tu’utu’u sa la’o tu ‘o. Mai na soqo sa oti vei X, au rogoca na ena va’au nai tu’utu’u i ca’e, sa maqa ni muri na salevu. Sa tarai ga mai dua na talevoni, mobile mai Waini’a,

9 This is a colonial legacy that regards the government as the only source of secure employment.

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qiri ta’i ca’e, e ‘arai. A sa te’ivu va’ayagata’i ti’o ‘ina na vei’ avovou, sa te’ivu seavu ti’o yane va’amalua na vei’a sa ca’a tu mai mada. Sa dina be’a ni salevu rawarawa, io sa levu na toso, sa ra te’ivu ‘arusa ti’o yane vamalua na yavu ni noda bula vavanua. (EV6:1/04/10)

(lit: A lot of changes have taken place, especially in the area of communication. With the availability of mobiles, communication is made much easier. In the past, when a cultural message, say from Tawa’e (a neighbouring village) needs to be delivered to us, the elders would use the proper cultural channel. But today, someone can just be sitting there and ring to Waini’a. In X’s funeral (name withheld), I heard that the proper channel was not used. The phone, mobile was used. New ideas have been employed and the old ways have started to phase out. Although it may be an easy channel of communication, the foundations of the vanua life have begun to disintegrate.)

The diminished space deemed to have been brought about by mobile phones seems to challenge

village leadership. Relaying of messages are no longer done using the appropriate cultural

method of taking a yaqona to deliver the message to the leader of a yavusa (clan) or

mataqali(sub clan). The mobile phone is the easier option given that the villages are far apart

and it costs a lot of money (about $40) to reach them by boat. While using mobile phones may

be cheaper, the cultural value of respect seems to have been ‘weakened’ as explained by the

chief above.

Traditionally respect is usually expressed not only by the manner in which a message is relayed

but also the status of the person who is ‘carrying’ the message, and the way the message is

delivered (such as words spoken, tone of voice and body language apart from the cultural

symbol e.g. yaqona or tabua). All the different parts of the communication process are

necessary in defining and recognizing ‘respect’ in the Cu’u culture. When one of these is

missing, the message is seen to be vuvute (light) as implied by the Tui Cu’u above. Vuvute

messages (or information contained in such) could be treated lightly by the people of the vanua.

This is bound to result in ill considered responses in terms of the expected cooperation and

corresponding (material) expressions that result. Mobile messages, it was observed, had not

only “shrunk” the communication space in Cu’u culture, but are also seen to contribute to a

reduction of the “weight” of such communication.

Yaqona space

Two aspects of change were evident in the use of yaqona in Cu’u. The first relates to yaqona’s

shrinking space in cultural use. To illustrate, it is now quite common and acceptable for people

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to use bars of soap for sevusevu (entry protocol) instead of yaqona. This type of exchange is

usually acceptable when used by people of the area. Recall in Chapter 4 my ‘borrowed’

sevusevu was replaced with three bars of soap which I used as entry to Yasawa. This was quite

acceptable as I was an insider taking sevusevu to my own relatives. Other approved contexts

would involve va’asavu i tu’utu’u (relaying a message) to the chief or elders. Messages required

for events such as a church function, a vanua meeting or a conflict situation amongst members

of the village would normally be relayed using bars of soap. The prevelance of this practice

could be explained by the apparent scarcity of this product in the area. Yaqona is an important

economic resource that it is usually grown in Balawaviri’i further down the Natewa Bay area.

Any yaqona that reaches the villages would normally be either for sale or for a vanua gathering

such as wedding or funeral. Another explanation for the apparent decrease in the use of yagona

may have something to do with the influence of certain Christian faith in discouraging the use

of yaqona, believed to be a satanic doorway.

The second aspect of change follows from the first, and relates to the yaqona drinking patterns

which have changed markedly over the years as explained here by Maivuca.

Sa yaco na veisau ni bula ena gauna o. .. unu to’a ena bogi ni siga arai, so era la’o sara mai Waini’a. ’eitou mai gunu yaqona to’a ga, au sa qai ‘aya. Ena vica wale to’a ga na gauna yani i mada vei ira na tamai ‘eimami, eratou na ti’o arai rawa ni le va, se lima ga ena to’a i e. Ia ni ‘ua, ‘eirau le rua wale ga vata ‘ei Be’a na matua to’a ‘o. Ia, nu qai raica na ‘emudou lewe levu? ‘Emudou na cauravou dou yaco mai Waini’a” ….so na gauna, vei’emunu na cauravou gunugunu to’a a… maqa sara ga ni dua ..mada ga na vu’e ni tavioka… Ia ‘eirau gunu to’a valalai to’a na bilo lalai.Raici emunu dou veiqalitaina tu na bilo levu.(AM20)

(lit: Things have changed nowadays…we were drinking yaqona the other night with some boys from Waini’a. And I told them, just a few years ago during our father’s time, there would only be four or five people drinking grog like this. But today, there are only two of us elders, just me and Be’a. But look at how many of you are here?You boys have come all the way from Waini’a tonight…some of you just keep drinking, can’t even plant one mound of cassava…look at us we are just drinking a little with small cups. And you, competing for the largest cup.)

Yaqona drinking (pattern) is no longer restricted to village elders only. Today it is a (social)

drink for young boys and women in the area, a trend that has also been reported for other parts

of Fiji and the Pacific. For example, earlier reports by NFNC (1995) and Naisilisili (1998)

recorded Fiji women as yaqona drinkers. Similar trends were found in other Pacific cultures

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including Tonga (Finau et al.1982) where a few women (1%) were yaqona/kava drinkers.

Considering the fact that Tongan women were never part of drinking soirees (except as

barmaids) in traditional societies, the finding in the 1980’s is an indicator of a changing lifestyle

similar to that in Cu’u.

During this study it was found that the yaqona soirees were accompanied by ‘anasuki (smoking

tobacco leaves), as people engaged in talanoa during these sessions. People normally preferred

to be completely free of any other serious work during the yaqona sessions as all the serious

work was supposedly done during the day. This is different from the Ono-i-lau men who

incorporate ‘tali magimagi’ (plaiting coconut chords) as a filling-in activity during yaqona

soirees (Mataitoga, 2010). In Cu’u the women drinkers were not from the villages but who were

(newly) married to men from the community. As the yaqona space increasingly become

occupied by young men and women, some may wonder if the associated value of respect

generally associated with yaqona has also been diminished or ‘watered down’.

When relating to me the diminished space in terms of respect, one of the respondents had the

following to say:

Va’aro’oro’o mada ga I ‘oronivuli, sa dua na ‘a sa va’alailai. Dua na ‘a sa leva vei ‘edra na va’aro’oro’o. Au dau ti’o vata ‘ei ‘edra ena veigauna, au raica na bula ni va’aro’oro’o vei ‘edra na yalai sa qai basi’a cewa mai ‘o, sa leva sara na va’aro’oro’o vei ‘edra. Maqa ni dau ro’ovi ‘edra na nodra qasenivuli. Na rere sa maq. Ni vosa mai nodra qasenivuli, a ba’u a talanoa ga mai e dua na tamata rau taba vata ‘ei nodra tabavata. I mada o ‘eda, da rere sara ga, eda rere sara ga. Ni vosa va’adua o qasenivuli, sa oti va’adua sara tu ga vei ‘eda. Eda rere na vosa vei ‘edra. ‘A ba’arai da rereva’ina. (IV1: 21/04/10)

(lit: The respect even in school has diminished. Kids no longer have respect. I am with them everytime, and I observe that the expression of respect is no longer what it used to be towards their teachers. The respect or reverence we used to have for our teachers is no more. Now when they talk to teachers, it is just like they are talking to the same age group. Before, no. we could not talk like that, we were scared of talking anyhow).

Reduced spaces: Veitabu’i (Taboo) relationships

Social spaces between veitabu’i relationships also seemed to be reduced or ‘thinning

out’ as people would say. This is especially so among the younger generation, among

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veiganeni (cross cousins). Social spaces which prevented them from freely talking as a

sign of respect, was generally missing. Inoke shared his view below:

Ia dua na dra’i ni bula ‘ina noqu dau raica vei so mada ‘amu matua cewa vei au, ... ‘Edra na ganedra ra waqeti. ‘Edra va’aveitalia na waqe va’agogo. So na vosa dau tauca maqa ni dodonu me da tauca. Sa leva na veiro’oro’ovi dina dau basi’a i mada. (IV7:21/04/10) (lit: There are situations that I observe in others, even those more matured than me… they are playful with their cross cousins. They just play and are cheeky with each other. Some words they speak don’t’ sound appropriate. We have lost the real respect that was once part of us here).

In Cu’u, these social spaces define people’s positions and roles in the vanua. They

identify people’s blood lines and affirm a person’s place within the web of veiwe’ani

(relational ties) in the community. Social spaces serve as a reminder that one belongs.

The weakening space of veitabu’i in Cu’u, however, has led to questions by village

eldersabout the future of younger generations. The questions are shared with an air of

uncertainty about the kind of future these younger people were shaping.

Yavu (house sites): spaces without names

About thirty years ago, most of the yavu (house sites) had names. People within the

immediate family identified with the name of their yavu within the village. Most of

these names were found to be no longer in use today. For example, in Gasauva, some of

the house sites were Yavu, Qilaqila, Sovanibabale, Va’ananumi and Jaina. I recorded

my reflections on this while doing fieldwork:

I remember those yavu from my childhood days when I spent here with Kuku (my gradmother). I used to ta’ita’i (take food) to those yavu. The big Fijian bures (houses) that used to be there on the yavu are now replaced with modern wooden and cement buildings. Now the names are no longer used. The village is referred to as ‘ti’ina cewa (upper side), ti’ina i loma (middle section) and ti’ina sobu (lower section). (PO60:3/06/10).

It appears that modern houseowners have lost the notion of yavu, an important aspect of

cultural identity in Cu’u. Yavu implied relationship, belongingness, family and other

core values associated with identity. The disappearance of the yavu has given way to

new notions of bonding, new forms of groupings and new symbols of identity. For

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example, in some villages it was observed that in relation to church-related activities,

minority groups have taken prominence during funeral and wedding gatherings. In the

past, relational vanua groupings were responsible for the la’ola’o (parties) which paid

tribute during these occasions. The disappearance of the house sites would have

implications for the disconnectedness that would arise in relation to the history of local

communities.

6.3.3 LuluqaNa i lawa : Weakening Family values The quality of an‘iluvatulargely depends on the quality of the initial strands of the pandanus

leaves selected to ‘start’ the mat. The best leaves are selected and wrong selection could weaken

the mat and contribute to the disintegration of its structure. In the same way, the family unit is a

key determinant in the continuity and transmission of core values in the Cu’u culture.

Although the social environment and relationships are integral to the life of an ‘ai

Cu’u(someone from Cu’u), it is the family unit that has the greatest influence in the way

people conduct themselves in the community. Generally a good family is one that

teaches the children proper vanua ideals such as respect, hard work, helping others and

vei’auwaita’i (valuing people and relationships). A good family is also one that is seen

to be self-sufficient and does not depend on others for food and other support. Family

quality often depends on the way the parents organize themselves within the family.

Children for example are taught very early to wake up and help with family chores such

as breakfast. They are also taught to address other people by using relationship terms

before their real names. This includes addresses such as Tata Siate (for a paternal uncle)

or Momo Puna (for a maternal uncle). In the first case, Tata is the same meaning as

father and Siate is the name of the person. The second case, Momo is the address for

uncle and Puna is the name of the person.

While parents generally try their best to bring up their children well many children

seemed to have been swayed by external influences such as the movies they watch on

DVD’s, other people they meet, often in towns, and whose ways the children copy.

Although some of these changes were viewed negatively by many people in the wider

community, some changes were observed to have been explicitly adopted at the family

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level as they were regarded by family members to help ‘improve’ traditional practices. I

will attempt to discuss these changes below.

Perceived Positive changes

It was observed that many parents seemed to have an increased sense of responsibility

in facing the economic challenges of the day. Except for the elderly, most fathers were

engaged in cash-driven activities throughout the year as they prepared to meet the

financial responsibilities associated with their children’s education. For example, most

commercial farms in Balawaviri’I, were specifically earmarked for the education of

children. Other activities include fishing for beche’demer for sale to a local agent in the

village. Women also were involved in selling ‘iluvatu to people in the town. Although

the sale of these items was the responsibility of individual, the support and approval of

the whole family were important. It was observed that there were fewer idle men in the

villages as a result, as most of them were engaged in some form of economic activity.

Parents too seemed to place a higher value on the education of their children compared

to the past, something that was manifested in some parents striving to ensure that their

children ate fresh and hot lunches during the day and helping to organize special meals

(I would call these feasts) during external examination times. Other positive changes

observed had to do with lifestyle which involved the adoption of new knowledge which

people saw as helping improve the way they lived.The following are examples that I

observed:

Improvised Washing machines

This involves soaking clothes in a round plastic bucket with some soap powder and

using a polyvinyle (pvc) pipe to turn the clothes in a circular motion. The process

washes the clothes within about five to ten minutes. It uses the same principle as the

washing machine. The women in the area learnt the idea from a movie they watched

about four years ago.

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Recharging batteries

Mobile phones are sometimes recharged using the battery structure of a four battery

operated torch. The power end of the charger is removed to expose the negative and

positive wires which are then attached to the relevant parts of the batteries. It works

very well as there is no regular source of electricity in the remote and rural area.

Baking cakes

Cakes are baked using a Bombay pot filled with sand. The pot of sand is heated and the

cake tin is placed inside and the top covered with the pot lid. The cake turns just as

brown and are tasty as those baked in stoves in town.

Photo1: an improvised cake oven

Insert from left: Saiasi, Jone and Ditoga Photo by researcher

\

Negative changes On the other hand, there were some negative changes observed. Children’s (mis)behavior is

normally used in the village and elsewhere as a measure of their upbringing. Some

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inappropriate behaviours attributed to parents’ laxity in supervision and setting bad examples as

the following extract from an interview shows:

Eda ga nai tubutubu da vuni leqa ti’o…Vole’a ni ‘edra tinatina kece’o ‘o era dau suki. ..sa d auva’avuna na nodra maqa ni dau raici ‘edra na luvedra. Ra qai dau talai ti’o ‘edra na yalai. Me ‘ere tapa’o se ‘ere cava. Au dau ‘adavi ira lesu sara ga. Dau ‘aya vei ‘edra ‘o, e maqa ni dua nabetena vei ’edra nay alai ‘o e? Eda dau rai sad a raici ‘edra nay alai dau

talai me ‘au sulu’a. Sovei ‘edra na y alai ra qai raica ga bau’o na sulu’a mai ‘alaulau, sa ra ca’a sulu’a sara..sa daunanumi ‘edra na tinadra mai vale ‘arai. (IV6)

(lit: It is the parents who are causing the problems…almost all young mothers in this village smoke tobacco leaves and neglect their kids. They send their children to go and ask for tobacco and other things. I chase them away when they come to me. I tell their mothers, this is of no value to the kids, why send them? Mothers send their kids to collect pandanus leaves to wrap their tobacco... and when children see the leaves in the bush, they bring them over to their mothers).

In another conversation, a participant did suggest that wrong practices were now treated as the

norm in Cu’u culture. An example is the now accepted custom of calling out ‘mai ‘ana’ (come

and eat) to people passing by during meal times. Meal times, he said, were highly respected in

the past that there was complete silence throughout, and there was no need to talk. People

respected this and did not go past people’s homes when they were eating, hence there was no

need for people to invite passers by. People showed sensitivity to others by not passing by

during their meal times.

The way children were disciplined also seemed to change. In the past, the task of disciplining

children was not only the responsibility of the father, but involved other relations, each playing

different roles in the discipline process. Inoke’s story below throws some light on this issue:

Dua na gauna rau la’o ‘edrau vata ‘ei Kali. Rau ma la’I coco’a. Rau lesu mai coco’a, ‘aba ti’oo Kali I cewa, taura ti’o nona I moto, o tata tuI ra. O ‘oya ga me sa wele o tata ira, qaiva’alutuma o Kali na moto. Nona va’alutuma ‘arai qai coba I yavana. ..Yaco I Vatu. Qai yacomai o kuku Nemani. sa qai rubila’ini Kali. Sa kuita, sa kuita ‘arai, sa dolo sara ga. Sa

qai talaisobu viro. La’o sara I ti’ina sobu. La’oviro vei Joti I ti’ina sobu.. Sa qai la’I motula’I viro ‘ina...Sa qai cere o ‘oya‘arai,… Cere viro ‘arai donui Kuku Jovilisi… Sa qai la’I tau va’aoti I ‘araina nona totogi. Sa qai kuitava’aoti

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‘arai. Kanakuita ba’arai eda sa maqa nirawa ni da ca’avana gauna ‘oni, eda sa rereva’ina na lawa. (IV3)

(lit: One day my father went with Kali to spear fish. On their way back, Kali climbed a treeand dropped his spear on dad’s foot who was standing on the ground. He was badly hurt…When they reached Vatu, Kuku Nemani (Kali’s father) wacked Kali up. He wacked him wacked him until he could not stand up but crawled. Then he was told to go the southern end of the village to go toJoji. He was again wacked there. Then after a while he got up…got up and met Grandfather Jovilisi…then his punishment was summed up there.Nowadays, we don’t do such disciplinary measures as we are scared of the law.)

The above method of discipline (beating) would seem barbaric nowadays, but,

according to participants, it worked as people made sure that they avoided the need

to be disciplined. The disciplinarians were generally most of one’s relatives who

ensured that inappropriate behavior was not repeated. This network of relatives took their

roles and obligations seriously because of their various relationships.

Today, however, such networks seem to have weakened by the laws related to the

rights of individuals. Weakened relational networks seem to result in parents having to deal

with family issues on their own therefore, exerting more pressure on them. With the changing

structure of parenting where the (male) head of the household is often engaged elsewhere

(mostly in commercial farming), the situation usually results in the mother being both the

nurturer and disciplinarian at the same time.

6.3.4 To’a volavola: other unique features of Cu’u

There are other unique features of the Cu’u way of life that seemed to have changed or

lost. Some of these are highlighted below.

Veiwe’ani with creative expressions

Veiwe’ani (relational ties) incorporated creative and interesting activities that

strengthened bonding among people in the past. Father Raqiqi (my uncle) related this to

me:

Eva’a sa vua tu bau ‘o e dua na vuni vudi levu, sa matuwa tu. O na qai rai ga bau ‘o sa dua sa vesu’a tu na tamona I na drauna madu. O sa na ‘ila sara ga ni dua sa vesu’a tu na nomu vuni vudi ‘arai. Sa maqa ni qai rawa mo dou la’o yane mo dou taya. Mudou sa maqa ni ‘ila o cei sa

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vesu’a tu.Na nona mai taya …, na iyau viro e na ‘auta mai. Sa u’uta tu o ‘oya ‘arai me sa ‘ena. Veitalia sara mo dou maqa ni ‘ila se o cei e sa ‘ena. ‘arai nodra bula I mada. Dou na qai ‘idacala ga sa ta na vuni vudi, sa ‘au mai na i yau, na i sulu, se loga se tabua me nomudou. Qaqaco ‘ina na bula ni noda veiwe’ani. ‘Ami’amica ‘ina na bula ni noda veiwe’ani. (JR20:17/04/10) (lit: If you have a plantain banana tree outside your home that is about to mature, someone would come while you were away and tie dried banana leaves around the stem as a sign that he or she had engaged the fruit. You would then understand that you cannot eat the bunch of bananas because someone you don’t even know had engaged it. When it is fully matured, the person would then come and cut it off the tree and take it. Then he would reciprocate with gifts such as bales of cloth, tabua or mats in return. This sort of custom did not only strengthen relational ties, but added fun to it)

The relationships alluded to above contained creative activities that were appreciated by

all. Such unique features are no longer in existence today as Western (human) rights

and other laws would generally regard such customs as ‘stealing’ from a neighbour’s

‘property’.

Another (creative) custom that was unique to Cu’u but is no longer practiced is the

veilomoci (emersing people in the sea) during the new year period of celebration in the

month of January. The custom was normally used when the village was visited by male

visitors who were from other tribes. The village women (usually a group of young

women) would go to the shed that was normally built in the middle of the village, sit

down gracefully and invite the men to walk with them to the sea. While in the sea, they

would submerge the men in the water. It was rude for a man to refuse to go under.

When they return to the shore, the women would have the means to ‘dry’ the men

va’amamaca (dryers) which consisted of clothes, mats and tabua (whales tooth). The

custom was the villagers’ way of making visitors feel at home in and belong to the

village. This unique custom is no longer practiced as people congregate in the village

hall rather than in an open shed.

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Expressions of Veiva’aturagata’i (lifting others to chiefly status)

Veiva’aturagata’i is often expressed through veinanumi (thinking of others) in different

ways. Men for example could not pass someone else’s garden if the owner was known

to be working there. The person passing would be obliged to stop and help with the

garden because of the person working there. In recollecting his young days with his

father in the garden, an elder shared this with the researcher:

Veisau sara na bula ni gauna ni ‘ua… Eirau ca’aca’a tio qai la’o mai e dua na tagane me la’o nona I teitei, … sa maqa ni qai rawa ni pasita’ini ‘eirau. Sa ti’o viro ga … o ‘oya me ca’aca’a, ena vanua ga ‘eirau ca’aca’a ti’o ‘ina. ‘Arai na bula ni veiva’aturagata’i ra sa bula ‘ina I mada. ... ‘Eirau na qai va’aitavi ta’i ‘oya viro na ti’au me qai su’a. ‘arai na veiva’aturagata’i. (JR15:17/14/10) (lit: Things are now changed. We were working one day and someone came our way to go to his garden further on…he could not go pass our garden. He felt obliged to join us and help. That is lifting others up to chiefly status… we then reciprocated by filling his basket up with yams and other crops from our garden).

Another practice that used to be common in the past was the offering of one’s first

‘fruits’ to the chief before the crop could be fully harvested for family use. The practice

was known as the sevu (first fruit). Nowadays the sevu is done in the church once a

year only. However, the concept of sevu in traditional society was used throughout the

year, and included all first crops. In return the chief would exchange some of his

material assets such as tabua or mat as a thank you gift. The notion was also extended

to fish catches where the biggest fish would be taken to the chief and the chief would

reciprocate with material gifts, a custom known as ‘leu mata ni qoli’ (piercing the eye

of fish). A participant shared the following:

O sa veisau. Sa maqa ni qai sevu na magiti. ..Ni o sa ‘ila ga ni sa matua nomu magiti sa va’arau te’ivu ‘ania, sevu’a… Ni dau ‘au mai na qoli, na qoli lelevu, a ‘au ga vei ‘oya e veiliuta’I to’a ena loma ni yavusa. ‘O ‘oya qai dau ca’ava viro nai leu ni mataniqoli, na yau se tabua se loga. Sa levu ni ‘ua ni sa rawa ‘a na tamata. Sa va’abuwawata’I ‘ina na matana. …. Da sa nanumi ‘eda ga va’a eda baleta na dra’I ni bula ni nanumi ‘oya ga va’ai ‘oya. (JR 17) (lit: Now things have changed. No longer do they take the first harvest. In the past, when people just know that their crops are ready ,they take

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the first harvest. Similarly in fishing. The biggest fish would be taken to the chief. The chief would then reciprocate with tabua or mats or anything. Nowadays people have become materialistic and have been blinded to the real values of relationships…we have become too selfish because of a lifestyle that has bcome more individualistic).

Planting for show of affluence

Affluence was an important aspect of life in Cu’u and it was important to display this

for people to see. The most popular means of showing affluence was through planting

fruit trees and gardens along the roadside. Various varieties of bananas and other crops

were left to mature and ripen along the road side. It was normally the last crops to be

harvested as they were to remain as ornamental plants for as long as possible. Maivuca

shared his knowledge of this below:

Raica ’oya amu tei tu i batini salevu ina.Ina yuyu wale tu ga i salevu .Me ‘ilai tu ni valevu na magiti sa dreu tu.O ira na matua, ira na magiti ti’o i salevu era dau maqa ni ‘auta vatotolo.Na vudi ni tu voli me dreu ni la ane bau o.Valevu dina na magiti ni matua o.Sa dreu tu na ena vudi.Era dau maqa ni ‘auta vatotolo na magiti tu i batini salevu.Maqa.Na yabia ni ‘oto i batini salevu me rawa ni ca coto ga i arai, a maqa ni dau ‘au vatotolo. (AM22:14/05/10) (lit: Look those crops planted closest to the road side are normally not harvested early. The bananas are left to ripen so that people can admire and know that a garden is full of crops. They do not remove the crops quickly from the road. No. The cassava closest to the road can even be left to overmature there but they are not meant to be harvested early).

Apart from its aesthetic value, such knowledge incorporated a deeper value of nature

that promoted sustainability of resources, conservation of the environment through

affluence rather than exploitation, as well as promoting the notion of what modern

people term education for sustainable development (ESD).

6.4 The School as a site of Struggle

Any philosophical explanation of the changing knowledge system examined so far will

inevitably be grounded in the power behind the change. Sprague and Zimmerman

(1993) suggested that power is associated with knowledge, hence the catchphrase

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‘knowledge is power’(meaning that whoever holds the knowledge that is advocated as

‘truth’ also has the power to spread that truth unchallenged). They also warned that

positivistic knowledge (advocated through the school) created knowledge dichotomies

that empowered a dominant group to disseminate their ‘truth’ unchallenged.

In the Cu’u community for example, the knowledge of the school is often elevated and

in the process the holder of the school knowledge often appear to operate at a higher

platform compared to someone who lives in the village community. The following

talanoa (conversation) that focussed on children who have left the village to study at a

tertiary institution, seems to depict this knowledge dichotomy in Cu’u with the holder of

the school knowledge representing the dominant group.

Da raica noda biuta na luveda i ‘oronivuli, e va’a ga e dua na i va’arau ni la’ola’o vou. Te’ivu.. la’o ga…lesu mai, vulica na ‘a lelevu, veisau ‘ina na ‘a e ‘ila.…Ia o tubutubu e maqa va’adua ni bau la’o i na vanua rabailevu me ‘ila mai na ‘a sa vulica ti’o na luvena. Dabe ti’o i na’oro, qarava ti ‘o na vuli nei luvena,maqa ni ‘ila se e vei na vanua e va’acurumi luvena ‘ina. Na cava me ‘eimami ca’ava? Me ‘au lesu be’a mai vei ‘eimami na vuli i na’oro me rawa ni va’araramata’ina na neimami va’asama nai tubutubu me rawa ni ‘eimami raica na veiyasana tauco’o era sa raica rawa na luvei ‘eimami. (ST50)

(Just consider leaving our children in school (at tertiary), it’s like beginning a new journey. When they start, they go…come back, learn big things, change the things they learnt at home….But the parents are never even exposed to the big places to even know what their child is learning. Just staying stationary in the village, working hard to support the child in school, without even knowing the kind of things they learn and the learning environment they (the parents) have allowed their children into. What can we do? Bring the learning environment to the village so that we too can be enlightened and empowered like our children).

The above extract illustrates the conceptthat the knower is the holder of power. It was

Agrawal (2005) who claimed that power is the extent of A getting B to do something

that B would otherwise not do. He further unpacks the notion by explaining that power

defines the relationship between two differing agents. Power features as observable

through its effects upon an agent, it involves subjugation and it is negative in the sense

that it limits the freedom of a subject. When considering this view in the light of the

discussion so far, one can see that it takes an agent more powerful than the vanua to

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alter the knowledge that has made meaning to the life of the people of Cu’u for

centuries. Therefore, for new knowledge to be accepted into the community, it would

require a convincing power to shift the traditional vanua paradigm to accommodate the

new knowledge. However, when considering the claim by Thiong’o (1986) that any

deconstruction process must start with the mind, we can then begin to understand that

the ideas of change are first ingested through the mind before it takes root. In the

community, the institution that generally deals with matters of the mind is the school.

Therefore, the two agents illustrated by Agrawal as A and B, in the power struggle,

seem to involve the vanua and the school. While both agents have the power to generate

knowledge, the dominating knowledge as manifested in the changing knowledge system

described here, point to the school as the more powerful in the relationship.It would

appear that Cu’u Knowledge System is changing to suit the agenda of the more

powerful in the partnership.

On a similar note, Paulo Freire accused the school as being the institution that serves the

interests of the dominant group and therefore holds the power to determine which

knowledge is accepted as truth by the society (Sadker et.al, 2008). According to the

Brazilian educator , the status quo of the rich is upheld by the way the school structure

and its processes are designed. These processes include the curriculum, pedagogical

processes and means of communication used in schools. In illustrating the influential

power of the school, Freire describes the written or read words used by teachers as

“..mere miraculous sounds offered or imposed on him (the learner) by the teacher who

is often an unconscious agent of the political policies inherent in the literacy campaign”

(Freire,1985:8). The Brazilian educator further adds that texts used in schools are

merely “..instruments for depositing the educator’s words into the learners” (ibid).

Such comments show the power of the school in imposing its knowledge through the

structure and its processes as critiqued by Freire above. It appears that such instruments

have been successfully designed to perpetuate the subjugated status of vanua

knowledge while school knowledge continues to be upheld. Although Freire would

have preferred to see a more potent approach to liberate the vanua knowledge from its

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submerged status, this study recognizes the school as a possible site for merging two

opposing systems as a way forward for indigenous people. For this reason the school

may be able to have a role in the maintenance and preservation of important Indigenous

Knowledge that matter to those who own them.

In the next section, I provide a description of one of the two schools in Cu’u, in order to

help us understand some changes in the community and provide a discussion of some

aspects of indigenous knowledge that may be integrated into the school culture in order

to help indigenous Fijians in their pursuit of school knowledge.

6.4.1 Vatuvula District School: an in-depth study

The Social setting

Vatuvula District School is located in the soils of the vanua of ‘Oroisavu’a. The

school does not only serve two villages – Yasawa and Nagasauva that are

geographically connected, but also serves a group of people who are closely related.

The first village, Yasawa is the home of the Turaga ni Mataqali Oroisavu’a, who is

the head of the mataqali or tribe living in Yasawa. He is also the chief in the village

setting. The social organization in Yasawa includes two to’ato’a or subgroups –

‘Oroisavu’a and Nadalice. Yasawa is also the home of twenty households with a

population of about a hundred people including children, who live in the village

throughout the year. Other members of the village live in Balawaviri’i and visit the

village occasionally. Most of these people have benefitted in one way or another,

from the services provided by Vatuvula District School.

The second village Nagasauva, is the home of the mataqali of Udu, which comprises

three to’ato’a - Udu, Yavu and Ligau. The Mataqali is headed by the Turaga ni

Mataqali ‘o Udu who is the chief. The village is relatively smaller than Yasawa as it

houses only fourteen households with a population of about sixty. Like the people of

Yasawa, most of the villagers travel to and fro Balawaviri’i during the year as they

engage in commercial farming activities. While some young parents have chosen to

send their children to town schools and others in village schools closer to Balawaviri’i

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where the parents farm, the majority of the children in the area go through Vatuvula

Primary School.

School site and organisation

Situated almost halfway between the two villages, is Vatuvula District School, which

takes about 10 – 15 minutes to reach inland by foot. Vatuvula was established in 1956

when the two villages finally managed to break away from the initial colonial

arrangements, which involved attending the Tawake District School in 1937, and later

Udu District school in 1942 (Baba, 2011). Today, Vatuvula is situated along the 180th

meridian line and has remained as the greatest disseminator of modern knowledge for

the people in the area.

Photo 2: Southern view of Vatuvula District School

Insert:Vatuvula students in front of the library building

(photo by researcher)

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The school comprises of two classroom buildings and a library. Like many

classrooms in Fiji, each classroom is filled with wooden desks, a blackboard in front

of the class and a space for the class teacher either at the back or at the side of the

room. Apart from its function as a reading space, the library is also used as a general

office for the teachers. There is also a flag pole which becomes the centre of attraction

once a week when the flag ceremony is conducted. The occasion comes alive when

the pre-recorded music of the Labasa Police Band is played as background.

At the northern side of the school stand three wooden and well kept buildings that are

home for the three government teachers. The teachers’ quarters are maintained by the

school committee together with the rest of the school compound. The open school

compound is marked by rows of ornamental plants and the beginning of the well kept

lawn that is a prominent feature of the school. Because of scarcity of water on the site,

each of the teacher’s quarters has a tank to facilitate their supply. The school facilities

also have water tanks for students’ needs.

The immediate link between the school and the community is a committee that is

appointed by the vanua. Any school plans to involve the community is communicated

through the committee by the Head Teacher. While the link is crucial in the successful

running of the school, the committee’s domain of influence is confined to the external

or structural development of the school. For example, on the 2nd of December, 2003,

the community under the supervision of the school committee began the task of

demolishing an old wooden building block which was replaced by the new blocks in

use today (School Log Book). During the time that I was there, the committee was

again involved in the renovation of the teachers’ quarters as well as students’ toilet

facilities. The school committee’s areas of responsibilities therefore ranged from

building school structures to providing textbook and attending to teachers’ teaching

resources. This leaves the school itself and provision of teachers to the Ministry of

Education with the District Officer in Savusavu in a supervisory role.

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Curriculum and Pedagogy

The above administrative structure makes Vatuvula one of the many schools in Fiji

that uses the curriculum prescribed by the Curriculum Development Unit (CDU) of

the Ministry of Education in Suva. By the time students reach Class 8, most would

have acquired the basic skills in Maths, English, Fijian, Elementary Science, Health

Science, Social Studies, Physical Education and Art & Crafts. These subjects became

part of their classroom experiences as soon as they entered school at class 1. The

system is therefore subject-based and values the passive assimilation of facts and

beliefs which are markers of colonial legacies endorsed by an exam oriented

curriculum. At the time of the study, external examinations at least in the primary

school system were being phased out and replaced by LANA which will be discussed

later.

The subjects are supported by locally produced materials predominantly authored by

CDU staff. Some examples are the New Social Studies Notes and Pupils’ Activity

Books for Class 5, the Social Studies Unit 2 - Time, Continuity and Change for Class

6, the Health Science Notes and Pupil’s Workbook for Class 8 and the English texts -

Links 1 and 2 also for class 8. Other literature materials such as the Pacific Folk tales

by Benson, C. 1993 and Leaves- Poems for years 7 – 8 have been produced by the

Institute of Education (IOE) at the local university, the University of the South

Pacific.

Until recently, the content of these materials were reinforced by external examinations -

the Intermediate Examination sat by class 6 students and the Eighth Year Examination

by class 8. However, the search for fairer methods of evaluation eliminated the external

exams and made way for the Literacy and Numeracy Assessment which was sat for the

first time by classes 4 and 6 on the 20th – 21st July, 2010. The classroom- based

assessment abbreviated as LANA, aims to test the literacy and numeracy skills of

students and is expected to improve teaching and learning by focusing more on the

process itself rather than on coverage for the purpose of examinations. An important

feature of LANA is its remedial intervention component which is expected to measure a

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child's strength and expose weak areas to be strengthened immediately in the process of

learning.

In the classroom, the activities appeared to reflect a fluid culture where the margin

between the teacher and students keeps fading. Students are free to talk to the teacher

and ask questions at any time. The classroom is therefore characterised by visibly alert

and curious youngsters who are full of life throughout the day. However, the CDU

designed curriculum has positioned the teacher as the holder of knowledge in the

overall pedagogy. The “knower” standpoint is exaggerated in the absence of adequate

text books, library resources and other study materials faced in the school.

However, when it comes to the process of instruction teachers try their best to make

learning as relevant and as meaningful to the students as possible. This includes the use

of vernacular as the main mode of communication in class as well as the use of familiar

situations as examples. The following incident is from a class 8 English lesson in

Vatuvula.

Teacher: Nanuma tiko na ulutaga ‘A silly mistake’. Talanoataka ga na ka o sotava. Kua ni talanoataka na ka o wilika ni sotava e dua tale. Talanoataka ga na ka o cakava se ka e yaco vei iko.(lit: remember our topic is ‘A silly mistake’. Talk about your own experience. Don’t talk about what you have read somebody else did. Just talk about what you did or encountered yourself). Listen to Nuku’s story.

Student: One Friday last year, my mother told me to cook some curry… and when it was cooked I told my brother to bring the salt. He brought the soap powder and I did not smell it. I poured it to the curry thinking it was salt. The curry tasted bad.

As the student read her story, she stopped as the teacher pointed out to the rest of the class the sentence structure and grammar to correct. (PO:4/06/2010)

This was an interesting class that engaged students’ cognitive skills in thinking about a

situation for the story as well as in the assessment process. The students were involved

in the whole lesson. The approach may go well with constructivists who believe in

starting learning from our own environment and experiences before internalizing

through cognitive processes, to allow knowledge to remain. The above interaction was

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an ideal example. The case has also highlighted the importance of vernacular as the

language used in the process of learning. Postcolonial thinkers claim that language is

not only a means of communication but also a carrier of culture (Thiong’o, 1986; Dei &

Simmons, 2009). In the above case, the Vatuvula students learned and understood more

when things were explained in their own language.

While the widely accepted assumption that English unites various people of different

cultural backgrounds, its application in Vatuvula and the whole tribe of Cu’u was

confined to the classroom only. Anyone heard to use English was ridiculed as ‘viavia’

(wanna be) or ‘deidei ‘ai vavalagi’ (want to be a European). Children are socialized to

use the Cu’u language as a sign of humility and therefore avoid speaking in English

outside the classroom. Likewise, speaking in the Fijian Bauan dialect was generally

avoided by people in Cu’u. I once took a trip to town with my brother’s family and

observed children of some relatives living there as they mingled around with my two

nephews from the village. Saiasi, one of the village boys came and reported the

following:

Ratou na yalai ‘arai ratou vosa va’avavalagi tu ga. Ia, o ‘eirau ‘ei Jone ‘eirau maqa ni vosa rawa… au ‘ila na ‘a ratou ‘aya ti’o, ia au madua na vosa va’avavalagi. Au vosa tug a bau ‘o’. (PO90)

(lit: Those children speak in English. But we, me and Jone can’t speak…I understand what they are saying but I’m too shy to speak it. I just speak this language).

So in the village context, English is not only an issue of mastering pronunciation and

grammar, but it is a cultural issue as well. A compulsory pass in English at the upper

level of education was therefore considered unfair and unrealistic from the perspective

of Cu’u students and may well appear as a measure of the degree of (appropriate)

socialization into a particular language rather than development of students’ cognitive

skills and abilities.

Teachers Challenges

The challenges faced by teachers in the area will help us set pedagogic issues in

perspective. Teachers witness the above problem first hand as they find it an extra

pressure to teach (concepts) in English. To say that English being the language of

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instruction is a big barrier in the learning process is an understatement. As explained

earlier, although the English language may be used as a means of classroom

communication, the language itself has cultural undertones that Cu’u children would

normally try to avoid. So teachers would spend a lot of time explaining instructions and

questions before any real instruction can take place.

Apart from the language factor, teachers were faced with extra pressure from

theiremployers who expect them to keep records amounting to more than 27 work files

which needed to be updated and produced on demand when the education officers visit

the school. The files include OHS records, students’ test files, lesson notes, lesson plans

and the like, apart from teachers’ workbooks. These files were meant to show the need

for a holistic approach to students development in black and white. Failure to produce

these files could mean a salary cut for the teacher. While the idea might indeed reflect a

holistic approach the irony was that many teachers tended to lose sight of the learning

objectives while they spend more time updating forms rather than engaging in deep

reflexive work and preparing themselves well for teaching.

Another challenge observed was the high community expectation of teachers. Teachers

were expected to produce a high level of work often in the face of inadequate facilities

available especially in the face of limited choice typical of rural, remote areas . For

example, during one examination period, the test papers were produced with lower

quality printing due to an outdated printer. The parents complained about the smudged

printing and told the teachers through their children to provide better quality paper next

time. It was apparent that a gap existed between community expectations and the

realities of schools and teachers.

Composite classes

The low enrollment of 36 students in 2010 meant that the school was provided with

only three teachers to look after eight classes. The classes were therefore organized

into composite groups so that classes 1 and 2 were taken by one teacher while the rest

of the classes form composites of three taken by the other two teachers. Although

each class has an average of 5 students, the task of teaching composite classes is not

easy.

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Niu sa qai la’o mai au sad au noqu to’a ga na classroom ni bogi, au yadra to’a me va’arautaina ti’o na noqu lesoni. Ni tolu na kalasi. Dina nira lewe lailai e tolu na kalasi e va’arauta’I nodra lesoni. ‘ila ni one teacher qai tolu a kalasi.. ni o ira na ministry ratou raica ga na naba, ratou sega ni raica na load vei ira na qasenivuli. (MR1: 12/07/10) (lit: When I first came, I used to spend hours at night in the classroom, preparing my lessons. There are three classes. Although they are few in number, I still have to prepare lessons for three classes. You know just one teacher, three classes…the ministry they just go by the number of students in the school, they don’t consider the load the teachers take in multiple teaching).

Composite class teaching has been the norm for most rural schools in Fiji due to low

numbers of enrolment (Jenkins and Singh, 1996). Vatuvula is no exception. The

composite arrangement above uses separate but fixed curriculum for each level. This

meant that the curriculum coverage remained the same as that used by teachers in the

single or straight class arrangement. As revealed in the interview above, while the

number of students are low, they have a heavier workload in terms of the separate sets

of curriculum they handle daily. In addition, composite class students might have been

disadvantaged by teachers’ splitting up their teaching hours between the two classes.

While curriculum priorities are biased towards single class teaching, there seemed to be

a real need for teacher education and curriculum development to look seriously at

composite class teaching, particularly in relation to the Education For All (EFA)

requirements.

6.5 Summary

So far I have attempted to highlight the changing knowledge in Cu’u. I have also

focused on the school as the power behind the change. This power is one of domination

through the school structures and processes, includingthe “manifest” curriculum, the

method of teaching, the language used, the text books and the physical setting of the

school. These help to define and shape what is important knowledge learnt in the

school, while displacing and suppressing Cu’u knowledge.

From such a subordinate position, the people have been made to accept the ‘truth’

advocated by the school since its establishment. This has allowed the school to be used

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powerfully as the means to reach out to the inner core of the vanua, the people

themselves by infiltrating people’s minds with its truth. This has been an issue that was

at the centre of a critical debate that is on-going as indigenous people have learnt to

raise their ‘voice’ collectively. In Cu’u, the vanua structure was still intact. However, it

was found that the processes that made up the basic foundations of the vanua have

changed, causing a change in Cu’u values and knowledge as well as how they were

expressed. In order to ensure that these indigenous knowledge and ways are maintained

and conserved, it may be worth considering the same method the colonizers used to

introduce their knowledge – using the school structure and processes. The next chapter

will discuss some issues arising from the findings.

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CHAPTER 7

‘ILUVATU: A CREATIVE SPACE OF POSSIBILITIES

The academy is not paradise. But learning is a place where paradise can be created. The classroom with all its limitations remains a location of possibility. In that field of possibility we have the opportunity to labour for freedom, to demand of ourselves and our comrades, an openness of mind and heart that allows us to face reality even as we collectively imagine ways to move beyond boundaries, to transgress. This is education as the practice of freedom.

(hooks 1994: 207)

7.0 Introduction

bell hooks has provided an apt way to sum up the discussions in this indigenous study –

moving beyond boundaries for freedom in education. The quest for freedom is also the

thread that holds together the chapters of this thesis. Moreover, it is the ground that

provided the motivation to listen to and document the voices of the people of Cu’u

using a decolonized methodology. This chapter acknowledges that the boundaries for

freedom cannot be crossed unless academic discussions engage with the question of

how IK and indigenous ways of learning could be incorporated into the formal

education system in order to make learning more relevant, contextualised and

‘democratic’ to the terms of the learners and teachers. Such discussions may be better

understood when ‘the space for possibilities’ identified by hooks as the school, is

examined against people’s views of what counts as important knowledge to be passed

on and what is involved in the process.

In this chapter, I will attempt to examine some basic indigenous philosophies that may

help in turning the classroom into ‘a space of possibilities’. I have done this by

discussing three main areas of the findings; the indigenous pool of knowledge, the

associated space for possibilities and the “Iluvatu as a framework, a model of

possibilities created within that ‘space’. In the first part of the chapter, I have taken the

view of an ‘outsider’ looking in as I analyse the indigenous issues raised in the findings.

I have done this by first evaluating the indigenous pool of knowledge in Cu’u and

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considering the place of the learner in that space. The second part makes

recommendations linked to the classroom as a space of possibilitites.The last part of the

chapter is an evaluation of the indigenous approach taken in this study. The evaluation

forms an important part of the main findings.

7.1 Cu’u knowledge: an inter-relational philosophy

The findings reported in the last two chapters confirmed that the pool of important

knowledge in Cu’u is based on the vuravura (territory), veiwe’ani (the social realm) and

the spiritual realm. Such levels of knowledge are not only vital for people’s well being,

but they are knowledge that are inseparable and interrelated, with interpretations that

carry deep meanings to those who use it. At the centre of the three realms is an ‘Ai Cu’u

(a person from Cu’u) that forms an important part of the knowledge system. An ‘Ai Cu’u

acts as an important mediator in the process of negotiating which knowledge remains and

which ones change. Figure 9 is a conceptual representation of this view.

Figure 9: Cu’u people’s Pool of Knowledge

The categorization of the knowledge pool (Fig.9) is merely for the purpose of discussion

in this study. In ontological terms, each set of knowledge is linked to the other realm and

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cannot be separated. This means for instance, that the manifestation of knowledge in the

territorial sphere is always deeply rooted in the social and spiritual realms. The fact that

weaving does not only satisfy the physical need of mat production for floor coverings, but

is a knowledge relevant to uphold veiwe’ani (relationships) in times of deaths, weddings

and other social functions where mats are produced, demonstrates this argument. When

given as a gift, a mat becomes a token of love, belongingness and relationship. A belief in

the spiritual realm would motivate the expert weaver to keep developing her god-given

skills to benefit others and glorify God. A knowledge of the realm would also ensure that

mats were directed towards specific purposes to avoid situations of curses or ‘bad luck’

that might follow otherwise.

Similar studies carried out in Fiji and the Pacific found such interrelationships to be

important and inseparable components of the indigenous people’s knowledge systems

(Vaioleti, 2011; Mataitoga, 2010; Nabobo- Baba, 2005; Teaero, 2009; Thaman, 1988).

This is why Nabobo-Baba (2004) alerted scholars, researchers and educators to have a

clear understanding of the vanua ways – the ecological and spiritual bases of

knowledges, relationships with people and other things that frame Fijian thinking, values,

world view and way of life before approaching indigenous communities. The researcher

further posited that these ways must be highlighted as our strengths and not be silenced.

7.1.1 An ‘ai Cu’u: a three dimensional person

The finding represented in Figure 9 above, indicates that the ‘Ai Cu’u as a person is

situated at the centre of the knowledge system. As part of the knowledge pool, the person

is interrelated and inseparable from the territorial, the social and the spiritual spheres of

knowledge. Figure 10 shows a conceptual representation of this thought. An ‘Ai Cu’u

person with a make up that is rooted and inseparable from the territorial, the social and

the spiritual spheres. This means that a person’sunderstanding of knowledge and related

issues would be wholesome only when the three realms are given equal importance. This

may explain why indigenous students learn better when the ‘inner being’ is engaged in the

learning process as discussed in Chapter 5.

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At the other end of the spectrum, an approach that does not include the three realms of

knowledge would be deficient and unimportant from the terms of the ‘Ai Cu’u.It is not

surprising therefore, that indigenous students struggle with the formal educational

knowledge system which generally emphasizes the empirical (or territorial) knowledge

only and neglects the other two spheres which are equally important as shown in this

study. A biased approach may be foundalien and meaningless to indigenous students as it

does not involve the whole being in learning. This may further explain why the formal

education system witnesses a large number of school dropouts every year.

Figure 10: The ‘Ai Cu’u as inseperable part of knowledge spheres

A biased educational approach is not only alien and meaningless to indigenous learners,

but further degrades the indigenous status of personhood. An ‘Ai Cu’u is ‘defined’ as a

person when all the three spheres of knowledge are intact. Disconnecting one of the

realms means devaluing this status. For instance, as a social being, the “Ai Cu’u’s

knowledge of the realms in Figure 9 above would allow society to define his central

status and identity in the vanua. Sociologists refer to this idea as “personhood” as

explained here by Ikuenobe (2006: 117)

… personhood is a status earned by meeting certain community standards, including the ability to take on prescribed responsibilities that are believed to define personhood. Such responsibilities may be defined in terms of personal achievements that are worthy of social

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recognition…The recognition of a person implies the existence of (satisfied) group standards for action and achievement. These standards, in turn, indicate a view of personhood that represents thesocial and moral identity one acquires.

In the Cu’u context, it is important for a person to acquire important knowledge of the

realms discussed in Figure 9 to acquire the status of personhood in order to belong. Any

approach that does not include the linkage between the important knowledge areas

discussed will be treated unimportant as it would mean degrading a person’s status.

Apart from that the approach would be meaningless to the community and is likely to

be relegated to the side line. For example, the approaches taken by western science has

contradicted indigenous attitudes towards their value of the inter-linkages of the

knowledge pool discussed above. In research, western science attempt to isolate a

problem by eliminating its inter-linkages with various other factors and reduce the

problem to a small number of controllable variables (Dei et.al.2009). However,

traditional approaches as used in this study usually examine problems in their entity,

together with their linkages and complexities. It is these inter-linkages that are valued

and are meaningful to the indigenous person.

7.1.3 Linking the philosophy to the findings

An understanding of the above spheres of an ‘Ai Cu’u would help us to understand

issues discussed in the findings. I will highlight some examples below.

a) It helps us to understand why indigenous children think in relativity as in maths,

time orientations and so on. The person is part of the relational knowledge all

the time.

b) It also explains why the validation of truth involves not only the empirical

senses, but also the unseen realm.

c) It also explains why learning must involve the body, soul and spirit in order for

things to be meaningful. Any learning that involves only one realm or two does

not stay as it would be of no value or meaning to the indigenous person.

d) It also explains why indigenous children struggle to understand knowledge

under various subject categorises (e.g. Maths, Basic Science, Geography,

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History, Language) rather than the interrelational nature of the knowledge they

are part of.

e) The study may also explain why some of the indigenous knowledge has been

weakened, changed or lost through the influence of the formal knowledge

system. History has shown that the knowledge advocated by the school

empahsises the empirical domain only and neglects the relational and spiritual

aspects of a person. Such an approach disconnects the very basis of IK and

discredits indigenous ways and being. Any approach to change and bring to the

forefront IK has to use the same strategy. By influencing the person through

restoration of the three realms in the important pool of knowledge in the formal

system, the school system.

7.2 Weaving IK and indigenous ways of knowing to the Formal School System.

So far, I have attempted to highlight some philosophical issues in relation to the

findings in the study to provide an understanding of the ways indigenous people treat

their knowledge. In the next section, I have attempted to highlight how indigenous ideas

and ways could be woven into the school system in order to make learning more

meaningful to indigenous learners. I have also provided recommendations that focus on

strengthening the link between the community and the school; a ‘space for

possibilities’.

This study has confirmed that the connection between Indigenous Knowledge Systems

and the School Knowledge Systems are crucial in resolving the educational dilemma for

indigenous Fijians. It is imperative that any attempts to strengthen the connection must

include the ‘culture’ of the community in the school structure. Differences in the two

cultures will continue to add extra pressures on indigenous learners in their attempt to

think and behave differently as they try to fit into the school culture and its associated

learning paradigm.

This study has also shown that Indigenous Knowledge Systems play a central role in the

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way learners perceive their world and act within it. The knowledge of gardening for

example, becomes important knowledge not only because it is an activity to satisfy

food needs, but also it is a symbol of status, masculinity, authority, security and

relatedness. Likewise, the knowledge of the spiritual realm is used to validate truths and

therefore determine the daily actions of people in the study. When such knowledge is

made less important or left out by the school culture, the learner’s realities often

become distorted and unclear.

It can be deduced` from the study of Vatuvulain Chapter 6, that the learning paradigm

that predominated in the school under-represented the realities of learners and therefore

need checking and re-examining. The learners’ realities were rooted in a cultural

environment that socialized children to learn effectively in the contexts of veiwe’ani

(relatedness), veirairaici (looking out for other’s needs), respect (expressed through

various ways e.g. silences and humility) in order that they know and understand their

social spaces. Such an environment made the classroom and the school artificial

spacesfor learning, lacking real life contexts from students’ (indigenous) perspectives. If

learning is essentially contextual, teaching in the Pacific schools must faithfully

represent those contexts - the cultural contexts of indigenous people.

The balance of this thesis dealt with how indigenous ideas and ways could be woven

into the school structure and processes in order to make learning more meaningful for

indigenous Fijian students, and teaching more enjoyable for remote and rural teachers.

Such a merge has to recognize the vanua structures and processes which must form the

foundation of school operations. I have attempted to capture my thoughts on this matter

in Figure 11. The merge must place the vanua ways as central in the structure of the

school, the way the school is organized as well as the way activities are organized in the

classroom. I am therefore making the following recommendations in the light of the

discussions above.

7.2.1 Recommendations for merging

Although this study is based on the processes and structures that are specific to the

vanua of Cu’u, there are insights from which we can learn.

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Figure 11: Conceptualising Vanua and School Merge

Linking community ideas to Academic activities

The school and community link could be more effective by moving beyond the

structural development of the school and the peripheral support of parents for their

children. The general perception that seemed to linger in the community was that, the

school was a separate entity from the community and this has defined the way the

community was involved in school affairs.

While this state of affairs probably reflected missionary and colonial legacies, it had

unfortunately limited the support of Vatuvula parents for non-academic matters

including school uniforms, books and stationery, daily lunch, painting of classrooms

and renovations. Although the study noted a keen interest on the part of parents to be

involved in their children’s education, parents were normally excluded from the

academic activities of the school, which were generally accepted as the domain of the

teachers and learners only. A similar study by Hoar (2004) found that Fijian parents

were not involved in children’s academic activities such as reading to their children,

going over homework and tests or even discussing their children’s academic progress

with the teachers. This study had shown the need for the school and community to work

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together and integrate rather than segregate their knowledge and resource bases. For

example, the interests shown by parents could perhaps be harnessed so that there is

more active participation by community members in the learning activities of students

using the following suggestions:

a) Key people in the community could be identified in collaboration with

respective teachers, to act as ‘student helpers’ in the villages and assist in

homework after hours. I have noted in a separate study that some parents in the

area were not confident in helping their children with their homework because

of a feeling of inadequacy (Naisilisili, 2011). The general excuse given by some

parents was that the subjects covered nowadays were different from their time.

However, if key people are identified and ‘trained’ by teachers, this problem

could be easily resolved.

b) Another way of getting parents involved is by recognizing them as holders of

important knowledge in the community, and engaging them in subject topics in

the classroom. Because parents are involved, teachers could better concentrate

on other classroom duties. Such involvement would also provide parents with

the opportunity to better understand what their children are learning at school.

c) Students and teachers with the help of parents could use the natural environment

such as the sea and bush to enhance lessons such as Basic Science and Health

Science. Children may find these classes and outings more enjoyable and be

more altert during learning periods.

Incorporating Indigenous Models in the organization of school activities

Thaman (2011) has advocated the need to critically reflect upon processes of education

and keep asking questions in order to provide the conditions and environment that

maintain Pacific cultures and educational strategies. Such concerns exist due to the

western oriented nature of the school structure and processes in Pacific schools and the

need to make the curriculum more culturally inclusive and democratic. Schooling is

therefore an alien notion from indigenous perspectives and may be treated unimportant

as its knowledge does not fit into the indigenous pool of important knowledge.

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The unimportant foreign nature of schooling may explain why Nabobo-Baba (2006)

reported that the Vugalei people do not emphasise schooling in the village. In the Cu’u

community, the value of schooling is created by the desire for a secure ‘government

job’ to free themselves from their ‘microcosm’ rather than the value of its dominative

and exploitative content and processes.Given that learning for indigenous Fijians would

take place when the empirical senses and the spirit are involved (Nabobo-Baba, 2005),

it is unlikely that a foreign curriculum would stimulate the learner into serious and deep

learning. However, indigenous ideas can still be incorporated at the school level to

make the processes more culturally inclusive.

Guided by Foley (1999), who claims that learning can be emancipatory, there are

certain structures of the school system that could be changed to free us from its

oppressive nature. The current school structures such as the way an assembly is run,

encourages an authoritative teacher -dominating approach where the students are

assembled in line like soldiers. Such approaches can be broken when indigenous

approaches are introduced. For example, the weekly school assembly could use a

village style ‘bose vakoro’ (village meeting) model to meet seated on the floor or

ground with spaces between the teachers and students. This is a familiar arrangement

that upholds community values and respect.

In other situations such as group works, the vanua sub-groups called to’ato’a (or

anything close enough) could be used. Such groupings would allow family units to

perform a ‘scaffolding’ role in homework and other school-community projects. Such

familiar group (family) structures are expected to bring about cooperation and enhance

community values in the process of learning.

Using indigenous approaches in teaching

Indigenous methods of teaching and learning involve imitation, observation and less of

monologues and listening. Indigenous learning approaches should be made the centre of

teaching in indigenous Fijian schools and definitely for the remote and rural school such

as Vatuvula. If this approach is adopted it has serious implications for teacher

education.

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Approaches to teaching need to incorporate Vygotsky’s constructivst approach where

students construct their own knowledge in the process of learning (Bodrova et.al 1996).

Constructivists believe that learning happens first at the social level and is internalized

at the cognitive level. Teacher trainers may consider introducing their students to

learning techniques that create classroom environments that are appropriate to the

cultural backgrounds of learners. Cooperative Learning Approaches including the team-

games-tournament approach, group investigations and jigsaw approaches as suggested

by Winzer and Grigg (1992) are good examples of ideas that could be explored for use

in indigenous classrooms in Fiji and the Pacific.

Apart from the learning approaches, talanoa as a method of communication should be

encouraged in classrooms (Vaioleti, 2006, 2011). Latu (2009) also in her study of

Tongan students in New Zealand, found that talanoa was not only a means of collecting

information but also an important method of communication amongst parents. Talanoa

can therefore be incorporated as a form of pedagogy to make the classroom

environment more realistic for indigenous students.

Parents and Teachers’ connection

There is a need to foster connections between parents and teachers in a way where the

two parties are able to freely talk about issues of mutual concern. This could involve

teachers moving into the community to talk about their classroom experiences and

concerns. Parents could also share their concerns in such a forum. As parents get to

better understand the realities of the classroom, they can suggest solutions and strategies

for a way forward. In this process the two groups may be able to adjust the balance of

power between them and avoid more confrontational tactics that sometimes tend to

appear.

This approach may further instill in parents a sense of ownership in school-related

development projects and activities. Furthermore, the process of connecting would

undoubtedly be based on a certain degree of respect for the community’s cultural

traditions. Hoar (2004) suggests that community support could be mobilized for school

activities when traditional forms of communication becomes part of the interaction.

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7.3 The ‘Iluvatu metaphor as a Research Framework

One of the key findings that I would like to discuss here is the accomplishment reached

in the use of a decolonizing approach taken by this study. When hooks (1994) refers to

the field of possibilities that indigenous people can use to labour for freedom, to

transgress beyond boundaries, perhaps the ‘Iluvatu Research Framework used in this

research has in some way made accomplishments towards the goal of transgressing

boundaries.

This research has used “Iluvatu as a framework to appropriately capture and document

Indigenous Knowledge and ways of learning in the vanua of Cu’u. ‘Iluvatu, a special

mat that is closely linked to the identities of the people of Cu’u, the participants of this

study was used as a metaphor for the vanua values that formed the foundation of the

Cu’u knowledge and learning systems. ‘Iluvatu was also seen as a decolonizing

methodology guiding the data collection process from the beginning to the final phase

of the fieldwork.

As a research framework ‘Iluvatuguided data collection within the boundaries of the

vanua values including inclusiveness, respect, the family, cohesiveness, uniqueness,

reflections, reciprocity and spirituality. The approach was empowering both to the

researcher and the researched. The framework allowed the researcher to tap into the

knowledge pool without “stressing” or distorting the nature of the knowledge system.

In the process, the researcher, using the language of the culture and the people was able

to capture valuable information that people shared from their perspectives as holders of

indigenous knowledge.

On the other hand, the indigenous people were empowered as they, as participants and

holders of IK shared their knowledge. As holders of the knowledge, they were the

‘knowers’, and were placed at the same level as the researcher and often ‘higher’ than

the researcher as an expression of cultural humility by an insider researcher in this

study. This relationship proved to be good for sharing of knowledge which led to the

richness of data collected during the study.

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Other indigenous approaches have been found to empower people in the process of

research. Smith (1998), guided by the Kaupapa Maori Framework, was able to

“research back” and disrupt rules of the research game in order to acquire more

respectful, ethical, sympathetic and useful attitudes of research in her New Zealand

study. The framework enabled the researcher to move far beyond the decolonized

methodology by interweaving Maori histories, politics and cultural considerations

respectfully together in the research.

The Kaupapa Maori Framework is based on the principles of Rangahau or Research

Theory which includes self determination, cultural aspiration, culturally preferred

pedagogy, socio-economic mediation, extended family structure, collective philosophy,

the Treaty of Waitangi and growing respectful relationships10. The Kaupapa Maori

Framework, places indigenous people at the centre and like this study, treats the people

to be researched with respect as they are the holders of knowledge the researcher is

looking for.

The same enabling effect was found with the Kakala Research Framework. Developed

by Thaman (1992) as a personal philosophy of teaching and research and sourced from

Tongan culture, “Kakala” is based on values and principles such asreciprocity, sharing,

respect, restraint, collectivism and context-specific knowledge and skills, that are

important in Tongan culture. Kakala is used to provide aspects of the research process

such as preparing, gathering knowledge and information, analysing and arranging the

gathered information, and using the findings in useful and appropriate ways. Kakala is

derived from a Tongan metaphor of a fragrant garland that carries deep meaning to

Tongans.The Kakala Framework, originally based on the three basic processes of

making a garland (toli, tui and luva) has been further enhanced, after critical analysis, to

include two more aspects teu (preparation) and malie/mafana (monitoring &

evaluation), by two Tongan scholars Taufe’ulungaki and Johannson-Fua

(Taufe’ulungaki et.al, 2008).

10http://www.rangahau.co.nz/research-idea/27

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The Kakala research framework provides a more meaningful approach to research for

many Pacific students who often find theories and philosophies too abstract to

understand and use. The Kakala Framework has been used as a decolonizing tool by a

number of Pacific researchers including Koloto (2003), Koloto et.al (2005), Johansen-

Fua (2007) and Vaioleti (2011). Likewise, Nabobo-Baba (2005, 2008) has developed

the Fijian Vanua Research Framework (FVRF) to guide the whole research – from

design to process, and presented talanoa as a data collection methodology for

indigenous Pacific people. Based on her research of the vanua of Vugalei, Fiji, the

FVRF methodology has earned recognition both regionally and internationally

(Nabobo-Baba, 2008) including an invitationas Honoured Scholar to the Pacific and

Indigenous SIG inChicago in 2006.

The Fijian Vanua Research Framework uses vanua protocols and ethics to access data

and acknowledges the role of the vanua in shaping the process and product of the study.

In her book ‘Knowing and Learning, an indigenous Fijian approach, Nabobo-Baba

(2006) explains the framework as follows:

“Research is vanua research when it is based on the vanua, related to it, or has implications for the vanua and the welfare of its people. The study underlying… (her) book is vanua research, because it derives its data and validation from the vanua, because it affirms protocols of knowledge access and because it acknowledges the role played by the vanua in shaping the process and product of the study”. (Nabobo-Baba, 2006: 25).

The FVRF is therefore a decolonized methodology that recognizes and adopts vanua

protocols and ethics including the use of yaqona for sevusevu (entry protocol), respect

of vanua customs and ways, and acknowledging people as deposits of knowledge when

researching a community. FVRF also uses ‘talanoa’ and other cultural forms of

communication as tools of research. Apart from its success in the study of Vugalei, the

framework has also been used successfully by Mataitoga (2010) in researching Onoilau

epistemology and is adopted in this research as basis for the ‘Iluvatu Research

Framework.

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The ‘Iluvatu Research Framework is seen here as a derivative of the Fijian Vanua

Research Framework and uses all the FVRF protocols in the research. As a decolonisng

framework, ‘Iluvatu has the following distinctive aspects:

a) It is guided by the values of inclusiveness, respect, family, cohesiveness,

uniqueness, reflections, reciprocity and spirituality.

b) It consciously allows data to be collected within the frames of the values of the

community. Although this may affect the nature of data collected during the

fieldwork, its respect for the maintenance of relationships becomes paramount in the

process of research.

c) ‘Iluvatu analyes knowledge using community “lens” rather than other people’s

“lenses”. From such a perspective, issues such as the emotional aspect of a person,

the spiritual and the relational dimension of a people are important part of the data

gathered.

d) It uses the Fijian Vanua Research Framework for entry protocols as culture-specific

ethical guideline to guide research.

Features which make Iluvatu similar to other decolonized methodologies include:

e) It approaches research with the indigenous people as holders of knowledge and is

therefore treated as subjects rather than objects of research.

f) It acknowledges that the knowledge gathered belongs to the collective community

group and should therefore be guarded and reported so that the truth is protected

and people’s knowledge respected.

g) For the ‘Iluvatu Framework to be meaningful, it must contribute back to society in

useful and meaningful ways.

Finally Iluvatu may be seen as another research framework that will be available for

students who wish to use a Pacific Research approach to their studies. Pacific Research

is a research approach that is increasingly popular with many Pacific researchers and

scholars. It is described by Thaman as ‘research that is informed by and embedded

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within Pacific Knowledge Systems (worldviews, knowledges, practices & beliefs);

involves active participation of Pacific peoples; and, is relevant & responsive to their

needs’ (Thaman, 2010b). Iluvatu is seen as having exhibiting these three important

elements.

7.5 Summary This chapter has highlighted the philosophy behind the important knowledge of the

people of Cu’u. The pool of knowledge that was discussed under the territorial, social

and spiritual spheres were found to be interrelated and inseparable from the world view

of the indigenous people. At the centre of the pool of knowledge was the ‘Ai Cu’u who

was also the central player in the mediating of important knowledge in the community.

Because the ‘Ai Cu’u placed equal emphasis on the three spheres of knowledge he was

part of, approaches that involved the three spheres or ‘inner being’ of the person would

be meaningful and treated with respect as the ‘Ai Cu’u was able to identify with it. On

the other hand, any approach that neglected any of the three spheres would be

discounted and treated unimportant. Such an understanding would explain why

indigenous learners struggled in school and dropped out of the formal educational

system. The school knowledge simply did not fit into the indigenous paradigm. The

chapter has also discussed a way out of the Fijian educational dilemma that

problematises the link between the community and the school system and its ways of

learning. A number of recommendations are made which requires a synthesis of the two

paradigms as a possibility. The chapter also evaluated the ‘Iluvatu Research

Framework, as an appropriate approach used in this study and its place in Pacific

Research generally.

The next and last chapter is the conclusion.

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CHAPTER 8

CONCLUSION AND IMPLICATIONS OF STUDY

8.0 Introduction

In this last chapter, all the themes arising from the study are consolidated and

summarized under two main sections. The first section provides a summary of the

thesis. It does this by highlighting the main purpose and findings of the study together

with the key arguments that arise from the discussion of the findings. The second

section examines the implications of the study findings for education in Fiji and

suggests ways in which the study findings might be used to inform and guide decision

making at different levels of the education enterprise.

8.1 Summary of study

This study has been concerned with Indigenous Knowledge System and education in

Cu’u culture focusing on important knowledge and education in the vanua (community)

and the school.

Chapter 1 introduced the study purpose, rationale and context, together with a summary

of research literature, methodology and findings, study ethical considerations and thesis

organisation. It started with an account of the educational dilemma faced by indigenous

Fijians today as they struggled with a formal education system that landed a high

number of them as school dropouts every year. The dropout problem was seen to be the

result of a faulty educational system that failed to address indigenous learning needs.

The chapter also provided a glimpse of the content of the thesis – especially its main

purpose, context, methodology, findings and ethical considerations, and its desire to re-

centre indigenous education and knowledge in the education of the people of Cu’u.

Chapter 2 reviewed the literature on IK showing its lack of emphasis and subsequent

marginalization in the type of education introduced by colonial powers and

missionaries. The chapter highlighted the increasing influence of foreign pedagogies

and its silencing of IK except for some token activities such as the use of chants, songs

and indigenous personnel to help with translations and communication between

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foreigners and indigenous communities. Chapter 2 also referred to Altbach and Kelly’s

(1978) frame of Classical Colonialism, Neocolonialism and Internal Colonialism, to

explore the relationship between colonialism and education and how IK was further

subjugated in its changing agenda. Apart from missionary influence, colonialism was

highlighted as the other power responsible for the neglect (or absence) of indigenous

methods of learning by the formal education system today. Finally the chapter discusses

the Post Colonial Era and the intellectual shift that saw suppressed groups such as

the indigenous people talking back and questioning their oppressed status. This

decolonizing process was explored under the notions of ‘othering’, hybridity and

‘voice’, examples of Post Colonial critical theoretical positions adopted by similar

studies to this one. The study also draws from the Feminist Stand Point Theory in

examining different sites of authority and power in the local community and the school

in order to explain whose knowledge reigned as ‘truth’.

Chapter 3 provided a detailed account of Cu’u culture, the site of this study. It began

with personal reflections of my search for meaning in two worlds in which I was

socialized. This section also provided a window to undersanding how I came to choose

the topic of study as well as explained the context of the study. This chapter examined

the Cu’u environment, history, the origins of people, early socio-political encounters, as

well as contemporary social and economic settings. Balawaviri’i, an example of an

indigenous philosophy for economic sustainability was also examined and presented as

a unique economic model that enabled the people in the study area to access education

and other modern amenities. The chapter further explored the place of education, lotu

(religion), vanua and school in the life of the Cu’u community.

Chapter 4 presented the methodology used in the study. The discussion was divided into

two main parts with the first consisting of a review of the literature pertaining to the

theoretical framework of the study while the second provided the research processes.

The qualitative methodology, the overarching paradigm for this study was discussed as

was the ethnographic approach used. These were chosen because they provided

pathways towards addressing the main research questions, namely: ‘What is regarded

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as important knowledge in an indigenous Fijian community; and how can this valued

knowledge be included in the content and pedagogies of schools?

Different perspectives of ethnography were identified focusing on issues of validity and

reliability. The chapter discussed the study methodology as experienced in the field, and

documented the realities of the fieldwork guided by the ‘Iluvatu Research Framework, a

derivative of the Fijian Vanua Research Framework (Nobobo-Baba, 2006). The

importance of observing the core values of the community when carrying out the study

through acknowledging and recognizing the relationships between me and the study

participants was also discussed as was the various aspects of the ‘iluvatu in trying to

explain the process of inter-connections between me and the community and among

people themselves. These values and interconnections provided important entry points

as well as in concluding the study. Chapter 5 contains the findings of the study, through

addressing the various research questions, namely:

i.What is regarded important knowledge in the community?

ii. What are the bases of this knowledge?

iii.How is the knowledge validated?

iv.How is important knowledge transmitted?

Discussions of the various findings were discussed under three main headings namely:

the Territorial Knowledge, the Knowledge of the Social World and the Knowledge of

the Spiritual Realm. The chapter also examined ways of validating knowledge including

the use of the senses, considerations of knowledge or truth carriers as well as

knowledge validation through dreams and other supernatural phenomena. The chapter

explored the ways knowledge was transmitted in a vanua setting and included issues of

pedagogy as part of knowledge itself, engaging the inner being, bonding between the

learner and teacher, minimal verbal expressions, as well as the responsibility of the

learner.

Discussion of the findings is continued in Chapter 6 in an a ttempt to answer the last

three research questions which were:

i.How has this knowledge changed?

ii.Which important knowledge has disappeared and why?

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iii.To what extent is this important knowledge reflected in the structures and

processes of schooling & what role can the school play in its maintenance and

preservation?

The chapter also examined aspects of the knowledge system that had either changed

and/or disappeared and focused on the changing face of Cu’u and its evolving

knowledge system together with the school as a site of struggle for indigenous people.

Based on the assumption that knowledge is power, the chapter examined the knowledge

system that is emphasized in the school focusing on Vatuvula District School as a case

study.

Chapter 7 highlighted philosophical issues that help explain the findings discussed in

the previous chapters. There was a suggestion that the issues raised in the findings

could be used to resolve the cultural gap between formal education and indigenous

ways of knowing and learning. The chapter further provided recommendations for a

merged or synthesized systems as a possibility.

8.2 Implication of the Study The Iluvatu Research Framework has been used to guide the research and document the

findings of this study and the findings have a number of implications which will be

discussed below.

8.2.1 Implications for Education

‘If colonialism’s influence had been merely the control of land that would have required only one form of resistance, but when information is also colonized, it is essential that the resistance must interrogate issues related to education, information and intellectual transformations’.(Asante, in Langdon,2009:67)

Asante’s words remind us that the colonization of the mind through education,

knowledge and information has had a lasting impact on the (subjugated) status of

colonized people throughout history. This study suggests that education played a

profound role in this process as evidenced in the power of the school to influence the

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vanua minds into accepting change in its knowledge systems discussed in Chapter 6.

However, this process of change is further marked by the absence of the vanua

knowledge system from the school, and giving way to school knowledge to dominate in

intellectual engagements in society. And if one is to accept Lawton’s (1975) definition

of curriculum as “a selection of the best of a culture…”, then the omission is even more

drastic for indigenous Fijians. This is more so given Serpell’s (1993) suggestion that

one of the three main agenda’s of schooling everywhere is ‘cultural transmission’.

Currently, there seems to be two opposing sites of knowledge landscapes. On one hand

we have a vanua knowledge system that is changing; and on the other we have a foreign

knowledge system that is priviledged by the school over vanua knowledge. Attempts to

interrogate such a mismatch situation have resulted in numerous calls by Pacific

educators such as Thaman (1993: 2011), Nabobo-Baba (2006), Sanga (2004),

Taufe’ulungaki (1994) and others for a more concerted effort to promote Pacific

Knowledge Systems and philosophies in Pacific schools. Although these voices are

‘loud and clear’, they continue to be discounted as culturalist and/or personal views in

some arena of academic discourses (see Wood, 2003). This research may be seen as

providing one more Pacific ‘voice’, calling for more culturally inclusive education for

Pacific people, especially indigenous people, through acknowledging and valuing their

knowledge systems as important inputs into the formal education agenda.

The study has also shown that indigenous ways of learning and thinking are intricate

and integral parts of Pacific people yet they are often dismissed and set aside as

unimportant when it comes to schooling, especially in relation to what is offered in the

School Curriculum. The children of Cu’u think ‘naturally’ in the dialect that they speak

and yet when it comes to learning in the classroom, they are expected to learn and think

in English, a foreign language whose use is limited to the four walls of the classroom.

Furthermore, their indigenous notions of mathematics often reflect their social and

natural environment yet the classroom culture expects them to think in concise and

measurable terms (Bakalevu, 2009). In fact it is the whole world view of the indigenous

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people that is often overlooked in the formal education system, hence the struggles

faced by many indigenous learners in formal education settings continue.

This study argues the need for educational planners, curriculum writers and teacher

educators to seriously listen to indigenous voices and work towards finding ways of

representing these voices through the educational ideas, forms, philosophies and

practices that they advocate and teach about because these have been part of Fijian

cultural histories and our ‘awa (genealogies) for centuries. Some indigenous scholars

have begun to document and write about these ideas and histories and it is important

that the knowledge they document are incorporated into the structure and processes of

modern education (see for example, Thaman, 2009c).

The research and advocacy continues at various educational institutions including the

University of the South Pacific, where academics such as Thaman, Johansson-Fua,

Nabobo-Baba, Hereniko and Teaero have continued their work despite being in a

minority. Their efforts have opened up valuable opportunities for courses on Pacific

knowledge systems and Pacific Thought to be either taught and/or incorporated into

other courses at various levels of university study, providing some indigenous students

opportunities to study and document their own ‘voices’ as in this thesis. These are small

but important steps towards unpacking the many Eurocentric assumptions about

knowing and knowledge and the valuing and respecting of Pacific indigenous

knowledge systems.

8.2.2 Implications for Fijian Education: Curriculum and Pedagogy

This study has a number of implications for the teaching and learning practices of

indigenous Fijians in the classroom.The study suggests that an indigenous Fijian would

learn best in an environment that acknowledges and honours the person’s values and

knowledge system, in the process of learning. It is critical that the indigenous person’s

values, cultures and worldviews are represented in a meaningful way in the classroom

both in what is taught as well as in the process of teaching. I shall attempt to suggest

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some ways that could be used as meaningful representations to guide classroom

learning in this section.

a) Use of veiwe’ani (relational ties) to teach content.

Veiwe’ani or relational connectedness is an important component of the indigenous

knowledge system as discussed throughout the thesis. The notion could be incorporated

in the classroom process in various ways. For example, in teaching the topic 4.1 Culture

and Society11 to class 6. A clip of the prescription is provided below for the purpose of

discussion.

Content 4.1 Culture and Society

Concepts Attitude Skills

Changing culture

Roles of cultural leaders Cultural inventories Cultural changes

Tolerance for changing culture

Explain and demonstrate their expected behavior in different social settings

Table 2: Class 6 Social Science Topic: Culture and society

The topic could be introduced with a question such as “What constitutes a good role

model in your society?” or “What is a successful person in your village or

community?” Such questions could lead students to the notions of tamata dina (real

person) or tamata liga kaukauwa (person with strong hands) which are ideal status in a

Fijian community.

Students could also as part of a project, be asked to identify a ‘tamata dina’ in the

community (may be a deceased relative) and find out why he/she fits into the ideal

status. The project could include collecting photographs of students’ ideal persons as

well as samples of students’ work, including visits to gardens or properties etc. and

identifying students’ links to and relationship with the persons identified. Such a project

is expected to reinforce the values of veiwe’ani (relatedness), respect, family,

cohesiveness and the like, apart from setting models of tamata dina or tamata liga 11Curriculum Development Unit, 2011. Social Studies Prescription for Class 6. Fiji

209

kaukauwa. The project could include talanoa (interviews) with relatives, thus

reinforcing their relationships with people in real life contexts in the process. Similar

approaches could be adopted for other aspects of the school curriculum.

b) Incoporating the notion of lomani ‘Iluvatu (space) for respect.

Respect is crucial to the success of an indigenous Fijian student. Respect means that

each student matters and that he/she is a valuable part of the class. It is important for

students to see and experience situations in the classroom in which their ‘space’ is

recognized and acknowledged. In this consideration, teachers could take the lead role in

ensuring such an environment is provided for students.

A student’s space may be recognized by including his culture, language (or dialect in

the case of Fijian students) and incorporating these in teacher-student classroom

interactions. Recognising a person’s status in the community for example, is a practical

way of showing respect to students. For example, a teacher could encourage those from

the talking clan to play their natural role in ceremonial functions or in other speaking

engagements where the “natural” speaker could excel. There are other situations where

different student talents including those relating to carving, music, mechanics etc could

be recognized by teachers. These skills could be used in the interpretation of various

concepts taught in class. For example, Topic 4.3 in the Class 6 Social Science has the

following:

Content 4.3 Place and environment

Concepts Attitude Skills

Weather

Climatic factors Natural disasters

An appreciation of climatic factors A concern for the effects of natural disasters

Read a weather map Explain how the weather affects their environment Name and describe different types of natural disaters

Table 3: Calss 6 Social Science Topic Place and environment

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Students’ special talents might be used in considering ways in which they might express

concepts studied under this topic. This would lead to incorporating Art & Craft, Music,

carving skills, Graphic designing skills, fashion and even cooking skills in this portion

of the curriculum. This method may also work at the secondary school level, allowing

for an integrated approach to teaching and learning rather than segregating knowledge

into different subjects. Including ‘space’ of respect in the culture of schooling may also

be done in the way the classroom is organised. For example, a circular arrangement of

desks, something close to a ‘yaqona circle’ (Naisilisili, 1998), is expected to have

psychological impact in students. The arrangement with the teacher at the top-most end

of the circle is more familiar to students and can contribute to the creation of a

relationship of respect. Figure 12 provides a diagrammatic form of the idea of the space

of respect which forms the learning circle in a class.

Figure 12: Space for respect in the learning circle

Student

Student

Student

Student

Student

Student

Student Student

Student Student

Student

Student Student Student Student

Student

Student Student Student

Student

Student

Student

Student

Teacher

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In the arrangemet above, every student is positioned in such a way that the teacher

would recognize them. The circle would encourage an exchange of views and ideas as

everyone, including the teacher appears to operate from the same level, as parts of the

circle. The space inside the circular arrangement could denote respect for the teacher as

well as between students. It is also a space for learning as students and teachers interact

and exchange ideas in the process. Such exchanges would enhance learning and

encourage collaboration as each person is recognized in the process of learning. The

space could also serve as a common area where students could meet and engage in

reading when tasks are completed. For young primary school children, the space could

be an informal space where extra learning activities could be carried out.

c) Relativity and Meanings

One of the challenges faced by indigenous people discussed in Chapter 2, is in relation

to taxonomy or categorization. For example, some researchers often use their own

methods of categorization to label local fauna and flora without considering what this

means to local people. The categorization often overlooks the holistic and

interconnected meanings that indigenous people create, and may give rise to research

results that are meaningless to indigenous people. This trend may be seen in some Fijian

classrooms, where students are normally “classified” into working groups and labeled

as Group 1, Group 2, Group 3 and so on. Many indigenous Fijian students may not be

able to relate the numbers to a specific context, and therefore the meaning which they

attribute to those numbers may remain at a superficial level, functioning merely as a

(group) label.

The above assumption is based on the study finding that suggests Fijians interpret

numerical symbols as “relativity” as, in the concept of zero discussed in Chapter 6. This

would mean that numerical symbols would normally be meaningful only when used in

relation to a specific context. For example, the use of the term ‘nothing’ ( the context of

food gathered), is in relation to ‘surplus’ which is to give away, and means only a little

bit or a few rather than “none” as in nothing at all. It appears therefore that most Fijian

students would relate differently to numerical symbols as compared to other students.

While a lot of discussion has focussed on its direct impact on the teaching of

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mathematics to indigenous Fijians (for example, Bakalevu, 2009 and 1998), my concern

here is in the use of numbers for classification purposes in other disciplines. I would

envisage that a more meaningful and culturally inclusive learning environment could

be created by replacing numbers with value ideals such as loloma (love), vosota

(patience), yalomatua (wisdom), vuku (knowledgeable) as means of identifying groups.

These words may not only serve as labels but can lead to positive life changing impact

on students as they internalize the words and try to live up to their meanings.

d) Linking the purpose of learning to real life problems

I highlighted in Chapter 5 that the scarcity of opportunities and resources for survival in

my study area led the people to resort to various creative means to cope with their

environment. An analysis of this situation shows that a problem linked to real life

became the purpose as well as the motivation in their search for solutions. The

implications for pedagogy is that indigenous Fijians may be motivated to learn when the

purpose of learning is linked to real life problems.

For classroom teachers, this would mean creating contexts that are linked to real life

situations for problem solving. For example, in solving maths problems about areas or

distance, students could actually be taken outside and asked to measure buildings or

rooms in the search for a solution. Likewise, in accounting, students could actually use

the activities of the local canteen to solve problems. Such learning activities would not

only help motivate indigenous Fijian students, but also make learning more meaningful.

e) Va’ayaleyale as inquiry

In Chapter 5, there was a mention of an extra sense that the people of Cu’u used to read

gaps in people’s travel plans. Reading gaps is a skill that can be used to teach students

to use an inquiry approach for inquiry. The approach could begin with a problem (real

life context as discussed earlier) and questions are asked to generate interest. For

example in teaching a history topic on colonial expansion in the Pacific for form 6, the

following questions might be addressed: What voices were clearly heard and why?

What voices were silenced and why? What voices should have been heard and why? To

answer these questions, students need to read widely, discuss in groups and present their

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ideas in class. The inquiry method or va’ayaleyale is expected to allow students the

opportunity to think critically as they solve problems by raising questions.

8.2.3 Implications for Research

‘As objects of study, Indigenous communities have been under the microscope for hundreds of years as western researchers have sought to frame the ‘Indigenous problem’ and apply solutions. It is now time to reverse the lens and focus on who is looking through the microscope to see if different kinds of questions can be asked’. (Banerjee and Linstead, 2004:242)

The challenge to rethink, relocate and redefine our positions as described above,

demands critical reflection on practices used by those who engage in research of

indigenous people and their environment. This research has tried to ‘reverse the lens’ of

research and approached indigenous people as holders of the knowledge I was seeking.

The study used the ‘Iluvatu Research Framework which placed a high priority on

indigenous values throughout the research process, thus, determining the nature of data

collected during the research. A detailed explanation of the framework as a

methodology was provided in Chapter 4. ‘Iluvatu as a metaphor is itself part of the

‘reversed lens’ as it explains the Cu’u realities communicated by the use of metaphors.

The ‘iluvatu metaphor was used to summarise indigenous knowledge in Chapter 5 and

to explain the changing cultural foundations of Cu’u in Chapter 6. The research

methodology was also guided by other decolonizing approaches including the Vanua

and Kakala Research Frameworks

Apart from the use of Pacific frameworks for the study, the research itself also has

implications for ontological debates. The social realities of indigenous people are

known to be intangible or ‘soft’ and internal to their cognition (Sanga, 2004). These

realities are subjective to the people and their contexts and it is important to include

them in debates about their knowledge. In the Cu’u community for example, the

realities of people are rooted in their knowledge of the territorial, the social and the

spiritual realms which are expressed in ways that define their practices and ways of life.

The notion of ‘maqa’ (nothing) or ‘vica ga’ (just a little) for example can never be

resolved in terms of western mathematics, as according to the realities of the Cu’u

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people, the notions are relative to how much people are able to share in the first place.

Another example is people’s belief in the supernatural that functions to legitimize their

knowledge, determine their practices and the way they live their lives everyday. As for

researchers, the ontological debate has to take into account the worldview of indigenous

people in order to draw balanced conclusions about their realities.

The study also has implications for epistemological debates in research.

Epistemological debates focus on knowledge and its justification and are concerned

with how people understand their social realities and disseminate this understanding as

‘truth’. This study has implications on how indigenous people justify and communicate

their knowledge as truth to others. Knowledge being relative and contextual as

discussed in Chapter 5, this study has shown that research needs to be conducted in a

manner that values indigenous knowledge for what it is. The use of the ‘iluvatu

metaphor in this study allowed the researcher to obtain information that is as close to

reality as possible with minimal distortion.

The use of the Iluvatu framework allowed me to capture the emotions, the spiritual and

the ‘gaps’ that are normally left out in other studies, but are important parts of the

whole knowledge system of Cu’u. These realities are documented in Chapters 5, 6 and

7. The ‘Iluvatu Framework also provided another research tool for those who may wish

to use Pacific Research Frameworks in their studies. It will allow researchers in Fiji

and elsewhere to look through another ‘microscope’ and analyse indigenous issues by

asking a different set of questions from those normally asked by other researchers.

8.2.4 Implications for Theory

In terms of Post Colonial standpoint, the ‘Iluvatu framework is expected to strengthen

the collective ‘voice’ of Pacific researchers and academics. As insiders, the voices are

emanating out of lives lived in the very communities and islands to be researched. A

research of this nature therefore, will help in the collective effort to mark out features

of Pacific researches which are unique and similar. Such a move will provide adequate

215

and logical explanations of the need to include Pacific philosophies in academic

discourses.

Apart from the voices of Pacific researchers and academics, the thesis has documented

the ‘voices’ of the people of Cu’u, a first in our educational history. In Chapter 1, I had

explained that my motivation in writing this thesis was based on Smith’s proposal to

‘rewrite and reright our position in history’ (Smith, 1999) and include our ‘voices’ in

academia. Every page of this thesis is important not only in terms of its academic

representation, but is an expression of indigenous ‘voices’ that have been penned down

with emotions emanating from the researched and the researcher as insider in the

research process.

The study also has implications for the notion of ‘othering’. The approach used has ‘re-

centred’ indigenous knowledge representations as important, the knowledge that was

once pushed aside as the ‘other knowledge’. In the process of repositioning indigenous

knowledge, indigenous ways of knowing and learning such as the use of narratives,

metaphors, and other methods of representation of realities, are also given a legitimate

place in academic research. Furthermore, the thesis has implications for hybridity

which is often viewed as the product of Europeanizing indigenous people. Hybridity is a

gap created between the dominant and the subjected as a result of colonial encounters.

According to Fanon (1986) the gap is linked to an inferiority complex that drives the

indigenous person to renounce his blackness and elevate himself to become whiter by

speaking the language of the white and imitate things white.

However, this thesis has given priority of place to the Cu’u dialect and has documented

data in the way it was spoken and shared by the holders of the knowledge. The

documentations are therefore authentic and refer to the Cu’u lifestyle for what it is. The

hybridity gap is further used in this thesis as a space to create possibilities for a way

forward for indigenous Fijian education. Termed by Bhabha (1990, 2004) as the Third

Space, the gap between the dominant and the subjugated can be used to find more

creative ways to enable indigenous learners to free themselves from the ‘other’ space.

216

The idea of a merged paradigm covered in the recommendations in Chapter 7 is an

example of possibilities emerging from this third space.

8.2.5 Implications for Policy

The indigenous approach used in this research may well be used to influence decisions

made at the policy level in education in Fiji. Policies could be translated to include

people’s worldviews and values in order to allow the benefits of education to reach the

mass. Sectoral policies and development projects should be approached using the

‘Iluvatu Framework if the ‘bottoms up’ approach is to work. For example, educational

policies on Child Protection need to include the protection of cultural values and

knowledge which form the basis of children’s moral development. Likewise policies for

other sectors including health, the economy, politics and the social sector would do well

if they considered the indigenous approach used in this thesis.

The ‘Iluvatu Framework may also be used in any cultural context and the same basic

rule applies – the respect of the cultural values of the people, the recipients of the policy

outcome. Any policy that does not include this approach is likely to perpetuate the

‘trickle down effect’ that is almost the norm in all formal policy matters and projects.

The ‘trickle down effect’ refers to development benefits that concentrate at the top

strata of the community and diminishes as it moves down to (and if it ever reaches) the

grassroots people.

8.3 Possibilities for Future Research While the conclusions from this study may be used to make appropriate

recommendations, they are not the end but rather the beginning of an exploration of

ways that might be used to deal with issues facing indigenous Fijian education.

Although the school has been singled out as the creative space for possible action, the

study has not considered other related aspects of formal education such as curriculum

and teacher education. Further research is needed in order to paint a clearer picture of

our struggle for more culturally relevant and democratic ways of teaching and learning

in our schools. The following suggestions are offered as possibilities for future research.

217

This study was carried out in a remote and rural community in Udu. There are

opportunities to replicate the study in other remote and rural parts of Fiji including

island communities. It is likely that the notion of ‘islandness’ may prompt new research

findings that could contribute new insights to the findings of this study. On the other

hand replication may also be carried out in diasporic settings such as town communities

or the farming community in Balawaviri’i.

Another future possibility for research would be to focus on the curriculum. This study

had focused on an aspect of the curriculum - the school processes and structure

including the pedagogy, in order to explore the extent to which IK is used in schools. A

research that focuses on the formal curriculum (including the content of subjects taught)

would complement this study’s findings and assist in the setting up of a proposed

merged curriculum as recommended in this thesis.

This is only the first time the ‘Iluvatu Framework has ever been used in an academic

study. It was empowering both for me and for the people of Cu’u. There is room for this

type of study to be replicated in other Pacific cultures and societies as well as in Fiji

among Indo-Fijian communities whose basic values are expected to remain the same

but may differ in terms of interpretations and expressions.

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APPENDIX A

MAP OF FIJI SHOWING CU’U, THE SITE OF STUDY

Source: Map Retrieved 12th May, 2011 from

http://www.scaruffi.com/travel/fiji.html

234

APPENDIX B

RESEARCH QUESTIONS USED TO GUIDE INTERVIEWS

1. What is regarded important knowledge in the community? Daru talanoa mada ga, ena so na a e bibi munu ‘ila tu na tu bau ‘o ena noda dela ni yavu. Na cava sara mada eso na vei’a bibi vei ‘eda ena noda i ti’oti’o?) talanoa ta’ina mada ga nomu ‘ila me baleta na vei a eso o ‘ila tu.

2. What are the bases of this knowledge? [vanua, lotu, education, western] Ma te’ivu be’a va’acava mai?

‘O ma sa dau bibi tu ga mai vei ira sara mai mada? Vei ira na matua? Se sa qai te’ivu ‘oso wale ga ‘o?

Na cava nomu nanuma me baleta na va’avuvuli va’alotu, vanua, va’avuli? O ‘ila ni yaga ti’o se so na ‘a e veicalati va’alevu?

3. How is the knowledge validated? ‘Eda dau ‘ila va’acava ni bibi na vei ‘a ‘o? ‘E dua mada e ‘auta mai e dua nai tu’utu’u, da dau ‘ila va’acava ni bibi? O dau ‘ila va’acava ni sa ‘a dina nai tu’utu’ eso e dau basi’a mai na’oro, tauvata mda mai vei ira na dau ‘auta mai so na I va’amacala vovou mai tauni?

4. How is important knowledge transmitted? Dau va’avulici va’acava na vei ‘a o ‘ila tu ‘ina. O ma vulica mai vei cei na talitali , se siwa, se teitei se veibobo? O cei ma va’avulici i’o na ‘a ‘ina?

5. How has this knowledge changed? Sa bau veisau eso na ‘a? va’acava na dra’I ni veiro’oroovi? Sa bau so na ‘a e veisau mai na gauna mada ga ‘o se ‘a lailai mai ‘ina me yacova mai ‘o?

6. Which important knowledge have disappeared and why? Bau nanuma ni so na ‘a bibi sa leva se da sa maqa ni qai va’ayagat’ina tu ni ‘uwa?

7. To what extent is this important knowledge reflected in the structures and processes of schooling & what role can the school play in its maintenance and preservation? Va’acava mada na ‘oronivuli, nomu nanuma ni so na ‘a bibi ‘o sa mai sosomita’ina na va’asama va’avuli?E to’ona ti’o be’a na ‘oronivuli na bula va’avanua ‘ei na ‘ena va’asama ‘ei na ‘ila ‘a?

235

APPENDIX C

APPROVAL LETTER FROM THE MINISTRY OF EDUCATION

236

APPENDIX D

LIST OF INTERVIEWEES

1. Epi Voro 2. Savenaca Raise 3. Joseva Wasenavanua 4. Koresi Vocea 5. Tuqalo Cagilevu 6. Saula Tuiqalau 7. Waqavoce Veidre 8. Kelepi Seva 9. Alisi Tupou 10. Camari Teilai 11. Miliakere Cagilevu 12. Asena Tabega 13. Rejieli Vasa’ula 14. Inoke Vuinubu 15. Apisalome Maivuca 16. Lanieta Soata 17. Ruci Tuiqalau 18. Vasitai Roko 19. Senimili Adi 20. Salanieta Sigatabu

21. Asaeli 22. Paula 23. Vilipe Vocea 24. Ratu Semisi 25. Alanieta Vuinubu 26. Asena 27. Maikeli 28. Apete Waqa 29. Josefa Raqiqi 30. Kolo 31. Fane 32. Apisalome Vono 33. Ruci Dakaimoivi 34. Emitai Ratalatala 35. Ms Iniasi 36. Ms Rosa 37. Livai Maisamoa 38. Ma’ita Vono 39. Sakiusa Naisoiri 40. Pauliasi Qaqa

Focus Group Interviews

1. Group 1: 16/04/10 2. Group 2: 13/04/10 3. Group 3: 3/06/10 4. Group 4: 6/06/10