COMPLIANCE AND CARE:
AN ETHNOGRAPHY OF A FIJIAN VILLAGE
by Emily Sparks

Chapter 2
Social Structure and Organization: Weaving the Web of Kinship

Chapter 2

Social Organization

Social Structure

Relations Among Kin

Age

Gender

Physical Distance

Tavale

Social Organization

The village is made up of about two hundred people, including children, and it covers about ten acres. During the day, women are outside washing clothes, cooking in the outdoor kitchens, or tending to their gardens. Men are usually out working in sugarcane fields or gardens and plantations, and children are running around playing. Sounds of "yadra" (which translates into "wake up", or in this village's case, "hello") can be heard, as well as fast talking between the women. Homes are located about twenty or thirty feet from each other (in the center of the village, where they lie closer together), and additional structures, like outdoor toilets and outdoor kitchens add to the appearance of crowding structures. On top of the village, closest to the mountain lies the Methodist church, and in the middle of the village is the community hall.

The story of how Navolau #2 was founded is quite straightforward, and doesn't leave much room for myth. In the 1960s villagers from Navolau #1 were faced with flooding. As Navolau #1 is located at the bottom of a small mountain, and next to the sea during high tide, when it rained, the village would flood. At a suggestion from the British colonial government, many of the villagers from Navolau #1 moved to this land and founded the village of Navolau #2, though more stayed behind, as Navolau #1 is a much larger village than Navolau #2. Villagers say that during the 1960s people were very wary about taking suggestions from the English colonial power. At the time, the land was occupied by an Indian sugarcane farm, but the government paid the Indians for them to move off the land, so that Fijians could use the land -- a common practice at the time. The amount paid was F$25,000. At the time of writing, the Fijian dollar was roughly equivalent to half a US dollar, $.50 USD. Thus the middle aged and elderly people that live in Navolau #2 currently are those that built the village themselves. Although the villagers knew that the flooding situation would not be as bad, the sentiments about starting a new life, and actually building a new village were mixed. My "tata," or host father, describes what it was like to be one of the pioneers starting the new village, "It was a big time for us. When we moved, we didn't know how well we would get settled, or how well we would be able to run the village, since we were all relatively young at the time. Some were ready to go, and some were nervous about the move."

Although the story of how Navolau #2 was founded is clear-cut, it is important to include in this ethnography a bit about Navolau #1, since its people are the inhabitants of Navolau #2. There are a few stories involving the founding of Navolau #1. As my Tata said, "There are many stories, and everyone you talk to might give you something a little different; this is what happens when things are passed on this way."

One rather mythical story about the founding of Navolau is one which explains how Christianity came to Fiji. The story is passed down from generation to generation, and when my host brother (in his twenties) told me the story, he said that if I had any questions that I should ask his father, or another an older member of the village. Hundreds of years ago, the forefathers of the inhabitants of Navolau did not live in the village; they lived up in the mountain behind the site of the present village. They lived high up in caves, so that if other groups came close to attack, their watchmen could see the enemy coming. At the time they lived by fire and had heavy clubs for warfare. The people came down to the sea to fish, and to collect food, but did not like to stay in the low grounds for too long, for fear of attack. They then quickly went back up to the mountain, to their village.

One day when the villagers were in the lowlands, fishing and farming yams, the village watchman saw that a boat was coming in towards their land. The watchman looked carefully and saw two white figures with long robes, who he thought were devils. These white men were coming closer and closer. The watchmen warned the villagers, and everyone ran back up to the hills. However, there was one "bubu," one grandfather of the village who was blind. This blind bubu could not see the missionaries' white skin, and he and his helper, a small boy, stayed behind by the sea. The young boy was petrified like the rest of the villagers, and was ready to give himself to the devil. Instead, the missionaries told him not to be frightened, and "told him the good news." The young boy was relieved, and brought the news, as well as the missionaries, to the rest of the village. The missionaries told the people not to be frightened, to peacefully put down their weapons, and come live by the sea -- because Christians do not fight. The people of Navolau "took the lead," and came down and settled in the village of Navolau #1, and the rest of Fiji was told "the good news." So the story goes, if were not for that one old blind bubu, Christianity might have never come to Navolau, and Fiji. It is interesting to note that the myth of how Navolau was founded is associated with the myth of the first coming of Christianity to Fiji.

Another less mythical explanation for the founding of Navolau #1 is that the people originally did live in the hills hundreds of years ago, and that the chief of the Mataqali Viniua came down from the mountain and founded Navolau. He then told his people to get another large group, what Fijian called a "yavusa," to live with them -- that is how the village was founded.

Another historical tale is that the people from Navolau were originally from Rakiraki. This explanation is common, and it explains why there are so many men from Navolau living in the Rakiraki area -- because there is land which still belongs to the mataqali living in Navolau. However, because of tribal warfare, in the 19th century (this date is a guess by a few people in the village, but this time period could be incorrect), some of the people from Rakiraki moved to Navolau. This was a safe place for them, since Navolau is at a high point, compared to Rakiraki. Thus, at one time the people of Navolau were from Rakiraki, and lived under the Tui Navitilevu. (In Fijian "tui" means a high chief. The Tui Navitilevu is the chief of the Rakiraki area.) However, when the people fled, they wanted nothing to do with the Tui, nor his people, so they started their own Yavusa -- Yavusa Navolau (This will be explained in greater detail in the next section).

In Fijian society, families are organized into mataqali. Mataqali can be best associated with the generic anthropological term "lineage." Asesela Ravuvu, a Fijian anthropologist, defines "mataqali" as "an agnatically related social unit -- usually a lineage of the larger clan" (Ravuvu 1983: 119). Three to four tokatoka--a sub-group of a mataqali made up of a few families--make up one mataqali; five to six mataqali make up one yavusa; and two to four yavusa make up one vanua -- that is, one land and people, collectively.

The "koro" (village) of Navolau #2 has two yavusa: Navolau and Rara, each with three mataqali. Because the people of Navolau #2 all came directly from Navolau #1, the mataqali are patrilineally spread across the two villages; thus, all the mataqali here also exist in Navolau #1. Also due to their move, the mataqali in Navolau #2 are not arranged spatially in the same areas. Families of the same mataqali are spread all over the village. The mataqali in the Navolau yavusa are Natabuivalu, which in Navolau #2 has only one family in it; Vuniua, made of up four families in Navolau #2; and Navatu, which has six families here. Within Yavusa Navolau, the Mataqali Natavuivalu is the chiefly mataqali of the Yavusa. This liuliu (head of the mataqali) lives in house "Mereke" (house #7 on the map). In the Yavusa Rara, Mataqali Nabaseisei has three families, Niurua has seven families, and Dralavuti has three families living in Navolau #2. Within the Rara Yavusa, Nabaseisei is the high ranking mataqali. With in Navolau #2, the liuliu of the Yavusa Rara is under the liuliu of Yavusa Navolau. Although house Mereke is the highest ranking in this village, the head of Yavusa Navolau resides in Navolau #1. However, as my host sister pointed out, these rankings do not, to a great deal affect how people live. Nevertheless, in dividing up how much a mataqali makes through leasing out their land, the head of the yavusa can sometimes collect a bit more, but in this case, the difference is not great. She said that it is nothing like the caste system Indians live by -- it is more for traditional and ceremonial purposes.

There is no chief in Navolau #2 -- just the liuliu described above. However, there is one "ratu" (a position lower than a chief, or "tui") who resides in Namuaimada -- a village beyond Navolau #1. This ratu is head of the people and yavusa of four villages -- Nakorokula, Navolau #2, Navolau #1, and Namuaimada. As mentioned earlier, the people from this area are originally from the Rakiraki area; thus the Ratu Namuaimada is under the Tui Navitilevu (the chief of the Rakiraki area). The Tui Navitilevu is head of 42 Yavusa in the Rakiraki district, including those under the ratu in Namuaimada. Although the people of these four village do not consider themselves directly a part of the Tui Navitilevu's yavusa (either Balavu and Namotutu), they are still ranked under his "ruling," and some villagers have the view that yavusa Navolau is under the Tui's yavusa Namotutu. In the Ra province there are four takina. The Tui Navitilevu is the head of them all, and the others are the Ratu Natuiye (in Saivou), the Wagisou in Nakorotimu, and the Tui Nalawa, from Nalawa.

Although the families and mataqali have been geographically split up, most of the farmland and gardens for the villagers remain in between the two villages, so families often see each other during the day. For example, at my host family's sugar farm, my Nana would meet her "tavale" from Navolau #1 almost daily, to share the tasks of cooking, washing, and collecting "voivoi" (a plant when dried is used to make Fijian "ibe," or mats). Likewise, men from Navolau #1 came over to help Tata cut the sugarcane. The work and land is shared by both villages, because they are of the same vanua. Another example is Kelevi, an elderly man, and the head of household #17, "Mataiverata," farms land owned by his mataqali which is located in between the villages of Navolau #1 and #2.

In speaking of the "people" of Navolau, one is referring to families traced through the men. In this patrilineal society (which will be explained in more detail in "social structure"), women marry into the family -- and in most cases sisters and daughters leave Navolau to marry into other villages. However, in Navolau, there are six wives that are originally from Navolau #1 or #2. From the censuses and family trees, one can see that women have come from Lau, from Suva, Tailevu, Vanua Levu, Nadrau, Lomai Viti, or from some close by villages like Rakiraki, Nakorokula and Namuaimada. All of the women living in Navolau #2 are living with their husband's or father's people. There was one family -- the Seremia family where the husband was living with his wife's people here in Navolau, but this elderly husband and wife passed away four or five years ago.

Currently most of the children in Navolau #2 attend one of three schools. Children start attending school when they are six or seven years old, starting at class one. Class one through six is considered primary school, while forms one through six or seven is secondary school. Forms one and two can also be called classes seven and eight. Students take exams at the end of their primary school years in order to determine what secondary school they will attend. Students choose from Navolau District school, a Fijian Primary school or Ellington Primary School -- an Indian school which many children from the village also attend. The main difference between the curricula of these two primary schools is that Navolau District School teaches Fijian as a secondary language, while Ellington Primary teaches Hindustani as a secondary language. The secondary school that most children attend is Penang -- again, another Indian school. This is a school of about 650-700 students, and attendees must take exams after fourth form and sixth form in order to advance. Most children end school either after they fail the exam or after form six, or in some cases after form seven.

One student from Navolau #2 currently attends boarding secondary school. Queen Victoria School is on the King's Road, in Tailevu. It is an all boys' government school attended by roughly 550 students. As it is an elite government public school; higher school fees are required for meals and boarding. There are three terms -- the first term costs roughly two hundred dollars, and the second and third terms cost sixty dollars each term. Students at Queen Victoria School, or "Q.V.S." must score highly on their exams after primary school, and if accepted (if their scores are high enough), are invited to start schooling there -- before they started there at form one, but the policy is now changing to begin Q. S. at form three.

Technical training at the Fiji Institute of Technology (FIT) for occupations like plumbing, mechanics, as well as tourism, and training for nursing and education at other institutions are also attended by a few students from Navolau -- but for these they must either stay with relatives near by the school (in Suva), or must board at the school.

Although most children attend school until at least form 4 these days, forty years ago, this was not the case. Nearly all middle aged to elderly people who I talked to within the community only attended primary school, for the most part until class six. At that time, it was considered an honor to attend secondary school if one was not of a chiefly family. Although there are some exceptions, like my host-parents who are in their fifties, and attended school until form 4 (like form seven now-a-days), and class eight, respectively for Tata and Nana. Tata attended a government boarding school, and then went on for further training.

Momo Kelevi, a sixty year old young man, tells the story of how school used to be at Navolau District school when he was a boy:

Children today, they really do a lot at school, and then some come home and do lessons. When I was a boy, we had similar uniforms -- khaki shorts, a white shirt, but our schooling time was different. When we got to school in the morning, our head master would say, "Ok, Let us pray," and we had our morning prayer, and then he'd ask, "Hey, do you have you knife? Go out and get me some fish, go out and get some cassava, go there and get me that breadfruit." So we would go out, and then come home for lunch. But today, kids go to school, and have their lessons on their desks all day -- Maths, English, all the lessons.

It seems as though educational values certainly have changed in Fiji. Today nearly all children attend secondary school, and some go on for training schools. Going to a college -- such as St. John's College, or the University of the South Pacific is rare, and most children stop schooling before that. However, if they are accepted, they usually skip going to form 7, and spend that year as the first year in college or the university.

Lucy, my host sister, is in form six, and has applied to various training schools, as well as to the university for next year. She says that if she gets into the university, then she will go, and probably stay with a relatives for the first year -- as boarding at the school, on top of starting at the university might be overwhelming.

In Navolau nearly all the villagers are Methodist. Once every few weeks there are combination services where Methodists from Nakorokula, Navolau #2, Navolau #1, Namuaimada come and worship together in one of the four villages for an afternoon Sunday mass, or a mid-day mass. In doing the census work, I only found one family out of ten that practices Seventh Day -- although there are five homes in the village which are "S. D. A."-- thus, one in every eight homes practices S. D. A. Out of the one home that is in the ten-home census, Mili is a converted Seventh Day. She practices the religion with her in-laws here in the village. However, her husband "is a Methodist because he drinks and smokes and does all that kind of thing, so he still goes to church up there." There is, however, a Seventh Day settlement a few hundred yards down the road from Navolau, where there is a Seventh Day Church, and about six homes.

Social Structure

The social structure of Navolau #2 refers to the way the people of the village conceptually organize their people. This way of conceptualizing relationships stands in contrast to the social organization -- which includes the physical layout of the village, as well as the statistics about size, layout and affiliations

In the social organization section, I briefly mentioned the six different mataqali in Navolau #2. However, I did not explain their meaning within the village. Although less so in Navolau than in other villages, because of their settlement in the 1960s, different mataqali are ranked. In the Navolau yavusa the Natabuivalu is the chiefly mataqali, and as I mentioned before there is only one family from this mataqali in Navolau #2. The Mataqali Vuniua and Mataqali Navatu (also in Navolau yavusa) are below Natabuivalu, and are the "gonedau" -- that is, the fisherman for the chiefly mataqali. In the Rara yavusa, the mataqali Nabaseisei is the chiefly mataqali, of which there are three families from Navolau #2, and Niura and Dralavuiti are under the chiefly one, although I haven't found anyone in the village who knows their traditional role.

In Navolau #2, as well as all over Fiji, people think of themselves as members of their father's kin, or their father's people. In anthropology this is called patrilineal descent -- tracing one's heritage through the father's line. Sisters and daughters leave their home villages when they marry and move in with their husband's people, or mataqali. Ravuvu notes that "apart from looking after the husband personally, the welfare of his group becomes one of her main concerns," and if it is not, she is considered a "worthless wife" (Ravuvu 1983: 3). During my census and genealogy collecting I found that often people did not know their cousin-sister's husband, nor her children, if she moved to a far away village. A cousin-sister, or cousin-brother, refers to an ego's father's brother's children, or a mother's sister's children -- parallel cousins. In Fijian kinship, these are actually called brothers and sisters, but for an American to conceptualize this relationship, the word "cousin" is added. Their lack of knowledge of these kin shows just to what extent a woman comes to be a part of her husband's group.

Thus, when children are born, they are considered to be a part of their father's people, and not their mother's. Ravuvu states that "a Fijian child is normally registered at birth as a member of his father's mataqali and this entitles him to all rights and privileges including land rights" (Ravuvu 1983: 1). Thus, membership to the father's kin is not only part of the social structure -- how people conceptualize themselves; it is also part of social organization -- how people physically classify themselves. Of course now-a-days many people move to Suva and other cities for work, or schooling; however, they still return to their father's mataqali for holidays, funerals, weddings, and other such kinship functions. Although in Fiji many cases do exist where husbands are living with their wives' people -- as Ravuvu notes, they are called "murimuri yalewa (one who follows and listens to a woman)" (1983: 3), there are no cases of this currently in Navolau #2.

As in many patrilineal societies, primogeniture is also a part of the social structure of the culture -- meaning, how people conceptualize their world view. Primogeniture is the anthropological term referring to the passing of authority from a father to his eldest son. For example, in Rakiraki the chief -- the eldest brother of a family passes away. The next eldest brother was then called in to be the chief, and so on. If there are no more brothers in this generation, then the first chief's eldest son will inherit the position.

With all this emphasis on the male line of descent, and belonging to the father or husband's mataqali, there is a strong relationship that exists between a child (even if he or she is grown), and his or her mother's people. One refers to their mother's people as their "vasu," and may ask anything of the family. The relationship is jovial, and the mother's people overly generous, sometimes in a an amusing way. For example, during a sevusevu in Nakorokula, a neighboring village, the acceptor of the sevusevu kept offering the gift of the presenter (four hundred dollars) to the presenter's talking chief. This is not usually an amount of money to joke around with, but throughout the ceremony, he tried to force the envelope in his pocket, or slyly pass it over in each direction.

In Fiji, kinship ties are an integral part of how people treat and react to one another. In order to discuss these relationships, it is first important to discuss the names of these kin relationships. With so many terms between kin members, this table will help explain how people refer to one another, so that later we may discuss how these members treat one another. Here is a list of kin terms for both a male and female voice.

Table 1. Fijian Kinship Terms from Navolau #2

	Male Voice	Female Voice
eB:	tukana	tacina, taciqu ("qu" means "my")
yB:	tacina	ganea, ganequ
eZ:	ganena, tuakaqu	tuakaqu
yZ:	ganena, ganei, taciqu	taciqu
F:	tata	tata
M:	nana	nana
MB:	momo	momo
MZ:	nana levu (older)	nana levu
	nana lailai (younger)	nana lailiai
FB:	tata levu (older)	tata levu
	tata lailai (younger)	tata lailai
FZ:	nei	nei
FBW:	nana levu	nana levu
	nana lailai	nana lailai
MBW:	nei	nei
FZH:	momo (less respect than MB)	momo
MZH:	tata levu	nana levu
	tata lailai	nana lailai
FF:	bubu tagane	bubu tagane
FM:	bubu (yalewa)	bubu (yalewa)
MM:	bubu	bubu
MF:	bubu tagane	bubu tagane
S:	luvequ	luvequ
D:	luvequ	luvequ
BS:	luvequ	vugoqu
BD:	luvequ	vugoqu
ZS:	vugoqu	luvequ
ZD:	vugoqu	luvequ
SS:	makabuqu	luvequ
DS:	makabuqu	luvequ
DD:	makubuqu	luvequ
W:	watiqu	----
H:	----	watiqu
HB:	----	tavalequ (tavale)
HZ:	----	dauvequ
WB:	tavale	----
WZ:	daku	----
HBW:	----	karua (qu) (like a sister)
WZH:	karua (like a brother)	---
HZH:	----	tavale
WBW:	tavale	----
HF:	----	momo
HM:	----	nei
WF:	momo	----
WM:	nei	----
HFB:	----	momo
WFB:	momo	----
HFZ:	----	nei
WFZ:	nei	----
HMB:	momo	----
HMZ:	----	nei
WMZ:	nana levu (in this area, but in most places, nei)
	nana lailai

Starting with my generation, and moving outwards, I will explain the various kin relationships. In Fiji, descent is traced patrilineally, thus much of the kin relationships are based on the relationship one has with the father's side of the family, and then mimicked on the mother's side. Gender is something that divides the way individuals not only act towards one another, but also what they call one another. This is a major emphasis when discussing kin terms. For example, as a female, I would call my older sister tuakaqu, and my younger sister taciqu. However, a male voice would not always use these terms for his older and younger sister. He would call his older sister ganequ (tuakaqu is used at times, generically), and his younger sister ganequ, or ganei (taciqu is used at times, generically) -- these are two completely different sets of names for "older and younger sister;" however, they are different coming from a female and male voice. Likewise, a male calls his older brother tuakaqu, and his younger brother taciqu. However, a sister does not always use these same terms for "older and younger brother." She would call her older brother taciqu, and her younger brother ganequ. Thus, in speaking of one's brothers and sisters, the gender of the voice is the most important factor. This is different from our kinship relationship, for we have the same word for brother, or sister whether we are speaking from a male or female voice.

When speaking of one's cousins there is also a difference depending on how one's parents are related to the cousin's parents. Again this relationship is based on gender, and is constructed from the father's side of the family, and mimicked on the mother's side. Within Fijian culture, one's father's brother's children are considered like brothers and sisters, and follow the same kinship names as one's nuclear brothers and sisters, and must adhere to the same relationships as nuclear brothers and sisters -- that is, an extremely respectful relationship as one grows older. However, sometimes this relationship is diluted depending on how far away people live from each other. (See kinship respect section). The relationship one has with one's father's sister's children, or his mother's brother's children however, is quite different. This relationship is called "tavale," by both genders, referring to both genders. This relationship is one where the cousins can joke around, and if they are cross-sex, traditionally could get married (2nd or 3rd tavale). Thus, the relationship is based on the gender of the parent, and the parent's brother or sister. Today, cross-sex tavale are referred to as "kissing cousins," and can be quite flirtatious with one another. However, since one's father has brothers and sisters beyond his nuclear family, those extended brothers and sister's children are also incorporated into the tavale, or brother and sister network.

The same network is mimicked on the mother's side of the family -- her sisters children would be considered my brothers and sisters, and her brother's children would be considered tavale. Thus, one can see how quickly a Fijian family grow to be huge, and how large one's conceptualized kin network is in Fiji. I particularly noticed this when I did a genealogy chart with my tata, and was amazed at how many people he quickly knew his relationship to.

One theory behind why one has a serious relationship with their father's brother's children, is because these relatives all live in the same village, based on the patrilineal line of descent. Thus, marriage within the village, could not happen very often. However, with one's father's sister's children (who traditionally moved away when they married), a jovial relationship is encouraged, for traditionally a marriage cold occur between 2nd and 3rd tavale. Likewise, this relationship is mimicked on the mother's side.

Because a brother's brother's children are thought of as brothers and sisters, a brother's brother is called the same name as father -- tata. Depending on his age relative to the father -- tata levu (older father) and tata lailai (younger father) are the names given. The father's brother's wife is also called nana levu (if the father's brother is older), and nana lailai (if the father's brother is younger.) The same holds true for one's mother's side of the family. A mother's older sister is called nana levu, and a younger sister nana lailai. Likewise, her husband is tata levu or tata lailai.

Although the parents of cousin-brother' and sisters are considered to be like parents, the names for a tavale's parents are different. A father's sister is called nei, or "auntie," and her husband is called momo. However, the real momo is the mother's brother, and is treated with the most respect. Nevertheless, one's father's sister husband is also considered a momo, because the father's sister takes on the same role as the wife to some.

The name one refers to his or her children also depends on the gender of the voice, much like the brother and sister names for each other. From the point of view of both a male voice and a female voice, a son or a daughter is called luvequ. Luvequ tagane refers to a boy, and luvequ yalewa refers to a girl. However, from a female's voice, a brother's son is called vugoqu, as well as a brother's daughter. This is the same name for which a male voice would call his sister's daughters and sons. Likewise, a female voice calls her sister's son and daughter luvequ, and this is also what a male voice calls his brother's son and daughter. This system makes sense when comparing it to what one of the younger generation calls his mother's sister and father's brother (nana). Thus, when referring to one's children of their sibling of the same sex, brothers and sisters use the same terms -- "luvequ". (This is also the term for son or daughter). However, when referring to the children of their sibling of the opposite sex, they use a different term -- "vugoqu" but this term is the same for a male voice's sister's children, and a female voice's brother's children. These children, are those that the brother's and sisters children will be tavale.

When referring to one's grandchildren, the same term is used for a son's son, a son's daughter, a daughter's son, and a daughter's daughter, from a male perspective. This term is called makubuqu. Likewise, from a female voice, the same word is used for a sister's sister, a sister's daughter, a daughter's son, and a daughter's daughter. This term is known as luvequ. The term vugoqu is used when a woman is referring to a her brother's child, or a man to his sister's child. The fact that the gender of the son or daughter's children does not matter would make sense intergenerationally, since the bubu (the grandparent) is the same name for all of these children. Thus, in this situation of crossing two generations, the gender does not matter.

Now I will branch out and discuss some of the terms used for in-laws of the same generation. The term for wife and husband are the same -- "watiqu." From a female voice, the term for husband's brother is tavalequ (she calls him this -- anything with "qu" ending means this is what they call that person, thus this person is like tavale.). Likewise, the husband refers to his wife's brother as tavale. The term the wife uses for her husband's sister is dauvequ, or dauve, and they are to live like sisters. The husband's brother's wife, from a female voice is called karua, and the husband's wife's husband is also called karua. They are to act like brothers, and for a female, she will treat her karua (HBW) like a sister. From female voice, a husband's sister's husband is a tavale, as well as a wife's brother's wife, from a male voice.

In-law terms for the generation above the voice also have their own set of rules for respect. For a female voice, her husband's father is called momo -- the relationship deserving the most respect. Her husband's mother is nei -- or auntie. The wife's father's brother, that is, her father-in-law's brother is also momo, and his wife is also nei. This would make sense, given that the father's brother is the same term for her husband as her husband's father (tata). For a male voice, his wife's father is also momo, and his wife's mother also nei. Likewise, his wife's father's brother is momo, and his wife is still nei. This relationship holds true for a wife's father's sister, for she is called nei, as well. Likewise, a husband's father's sister is also nei, and her husband momo. In this area of the Ra province, various people have told me that a wife's mother's sister (from a male voice) is called nana levu or nana lailai. This is different from the other in-law terms -- nei and momo.

Most of the kinship terms are the same for both the mother's and father's side of the family. The main difference in kinship calling is between what to call someone of the same gender as you (in the case of brothers and sisters), and what to call someone of the same or different gender of your parents (in the case of their brothers and sisters). As I will discuss in the next section, these different names also represent very different relationships with one another.

Relations Among Kin

In his article "Is Kinship Costly?" N. Rika describes kinship as "that very strong bond of relationship between persons which gives those people involved a special claim on and responsibility for one another" (Rika 1975: 29). In other words, kinship is a bond which ties people together. Whether it be through matrilineal or patrilineal descent (consanguinity), or through marriage (affinity); kinship offers people a sense of belonging. Kinship also demands a sense of responsibility to take care of others within their kin group. In Fiji, a patrilineal society, kin relationships largely determine people's behavior towards one another. Understanding respectful, avoidance, and jovial relationships and attitudes between people can be confusing when one does not know the rules and regulations of such relationships within the culture. I have found that respect is a major factor determining people's relationships within a kin group. Several factors influence the amount of respect kin members pay to one another. These are age, gender, and physical distance. Also, in some cases the more respect one "owes" to another kin member, the more they are avoided. However, with these factors heightening the amount of respect kin members must pay to one another, there is a relationship which seems to make up for the overly respectful one -- a relationship that allows and actually requires people to cast away the rules of respect and act jokingly with that person. This relationship is called tavale. This section of the ethnography will explain kin relationships, and will try and hypothesize some of the meanings behind those relationships.

Age

In Fijian society, as in most societies, elders are respected and cared for. In Navolau the "bubu" figure, the Fijian word for grandfather, grandmother, and their sisters and brothers, is respected and cared for by their children and grandchildren. In many cases, the bubu lives with one of her son's families (or rather, the son's wife and children live in the bubu's house), and is cared for largely by her daughter-in-law. The bubu (plural) of Navolau sit outside watching the village, and depending on how old they are, perform tasks like their children. In several cases in Navolau, bubu is offered to sit in a chair during yaqona circles, or during the day, not only because it may be easier to for them to sit in a chair, rather than on the floor; but also because they are of higher status, and their head may be above others. A bubu-grandfather is seated at the top of a table for eating, is served first, and is thought of as the head of the household, even if he is not the primary bread-winner. Also, bubu is seated as the most honored member of a yaqona circle, if there are no members of higher mataqali present.

This notion of respecting one's elders holds true on smaller scales as well. Older siblings may ask their younger siblings, younger cousins, nieces or nephews, or "navauana" to help them perform tasks. As Ravuvu notes that older brothers and sisters are expected to "organize social and economic activities...In return, junior members are obliged to provide labour as necessary for the upkeep of the family head and the family as a whole" (1983: 8). For example, in my home if Pasy (the thirteen year old girl that does a lot of the cooking) needs someone to watch the stove, or get her some firewood, she will call upon those that are younger than her to help her. Thus roles within the family are determined by age.

One way in which people pay respect to their elders is by using the same names through generations. There is a systematic way the is done in Fijian society. From examining the household censuses, as well as the genealogies done on families and households in Navolau, one can see that the first child is often named after a parent (depending on the sex of the child). After the eldest, the other children are named after grandparents' sisters and brothers, and more commonly after parents' sisters and brothers. For example, in my host family. The eldest child -- a girl, is named Litiana is named after her father, "Laitia." They also have a son named Laitia, as well as two daughters named Merilita and Viniana -- after their father's sisters. Likewise, grandchildren are named after elders. For example, my Nana and Tata's first grandchild is named after her bubu (my nana) -- Vasemaca.

Although children share names with elders within their kin group, often these names are not spoken, out of respect for the elders. Nicknames are used instead. For example, Vasemaca, the first grandchild of Vasemaca and Laitia, is called "Pasy," "Pa" or "yaca" (meaning namesake) by everyone, not just her grandmother. A little girl named after her aunt might be called "nei" by everyone, meaning "auntie." Thus, out of respect, children who have the same names as their elders are called a nickname by those within their kin group.

Another way in which age factors into the kinship web of respect is through in-laws. This category crosses both age and gender. A "dauve," that is, a brother's wife, if the brother is older, is allowed to joke around with her husband's younger brothers and sisters. However, she must respect her husband's older siblings. The level of respect here is so high that she must avoid them. This means not mentioning their name, and leaving the room when they enter. This relationship between the wife and the other brothers is called "daku." This is also the name by which they refer to each other. This relationship is extended not only with immediate family, but with the brother's parallel cousins as well. However, the dauve is free to interact with her husband's brothers' wives, and they call each other "karua." In a karua relationship the in-law wives act as sisters. Likewise, a sister's husband can joke freely with the other sisters of the family.

My host brother Veresa explained that the relationship of avoidance depends on age, when dealing with in-laws. He said that when Ilimo (his older brother) gets married, that all of Ilimo's younger siblings will be able to talk to his wife. However, when Veresa gets married, his older siblings will not be able to talk to his wife, but his younger siblings will be able to. The term "siblings" also includes parallel cousins. For example, Nana's sisters children that are older than say, Ilimo, will not be able to talk to his wife, but the younger ones will be able to.

Gender

Gender is also a major influence affecting respect within kinship. As mentioned above, cross-gender in-laws observe respectful relationships when the in-law is younger. Again, these relationships can be so strict that they will not even acknowledge each other, nor be in the same room together. Brothers and sisters, as well as cousin-brothers and cousin-sisters, known as parallel cousins or "veitacini," once they are married, begin to respect one another more and more, and eventually start avoiding each other. Brothers may not make sexual references in the presence of their sisters or female veitacini. Some say the avoidance comes from the uncomfortable situation of such a heightened, and changed degree of respect. This relationship of avoidance is called "veitavuki."

Even husbands and wives do not call each other by their names out of respect. In my household, for example, Tata calls his wife "bu-yaca," short for bubu, and since she has the name of her first grandchild. Of course husbands and wives do not respect each other so much that they avoid talking to each other, but they do refrain from using each other's names.

In Fiji, the issue of gender and respect does not always follow according to the rule. Expectations for men to follow the rules of respect are heightened, compared to what is followed out between women. For example, in my village, the women all work together -- Nana, her daughters, their cousin-sisters, and her grandchildren. Whether it be cooking, cleaning, washing or serving, there is no order of who should do work and who shouldn't. (Although the eldest tells the younger ones what to do, they all work together). Among the men however, Veresa, a middle brother, says that although he will never avoid his brothers, as they grow older they must show more and more respect for one another. While my Tata and his brothers, sons, and cousin-brothers cut cane, during their break I would serve them lunch. Whenever I brought the food first to Tata, he told me to give it to Tata levu, his older brother. Clearly he was doing this out of respect for his older brother. Another example is during yaqona drinking. Even during our sevusevu, a formal ceremony where the men traditionally are the center of the ceremony, and the women sit in the back, the man offered the yaqona first (unless he is a chief) often offer it to the guest, or another man. Among the women however, when a bowl is offered, the woman will drink it -- she will only give it away if she doesn't want the yaqona.

One possible explanation for the reason the rules of respect are heightened between male kin members is because Fijian men are the people in the public sphere, carrying out traditional Fijian ceremonies. Thus, they must adhere to traditional Fijian customs (at least in public) more so than the women, for they play a much smaller role within the public sphere. Another explanation for why women's respect with one another is not as much as men's is because they actually do work together as a team all day. Women's work, especially cleaning and cooking, is a team effort, and a heightened respect would not allow them to work as efficiently.

Physical Distance

Physical distance affects how strongly respect affects kin relationships. Often if people live together, the amount of respect that they actually show towards each other, compared to what is traditionally expected, is lessened. Likewise, if they live far a away from each other, the respect is heightened, and they avoid each other when they do see each other. For example, my Tata and his sister live in different villages, as she moved to her husband's village when she married. He said that since they rarely see each other, and should respect each other, that when they do see each other they avoid each other, because they have nothing to say, and it provides for an awkward situation. However, Nana and her brother, "Momo Charlie," normally someone who should receive a great deal of respect talk and visit each other often.

Tavale

Among these complex kinship rules of respect and avoidance there is one relationship where people act conversely, and are actually required to joke with one another. This relationship is called "tavale," and it refers to the relationship between a mother's brother's children, or a father's sister's children. Traditionally this relationship was meant for tavale (two or three times removed) to marry each other. Today this is not expected. However, the tavale relationship is a jovial, teasing, and sometimes flirtatious one when it involves a male and a female. Ilimo and Ase, tavale that are around the same age (late twenties, and early thirties) tease each other about other romantic relationships that they each have with other people. Another example of a tavale relationship from my field notes exemplifies why the term has the nickname "kissing cousins":

While I was in Vaileka Susannah (a friend of mine, age 18) ran into someone that I thought might of been a boyfriend -- certainly someone that she was flirting with. When she saw this guy (a few years older than she), they joined hands and were leaning in and out of each other. She leaned up against him, giggled and joked with his friends as she stayed leaning against him and holding his hand. They continued talking and laughing for about five minutes, Afterwards, I asked Susannah if that was her boyfriend, and she said that it was her tavale from another island in Fiji, that is now staying in a village near Vaileka.

Another example was when Lucy, my host sister introduced her friend's father to me. Her friend's father is also her tavale, and he introduced himself as "Lucy's husband."

As I spent more and more time in the village, I began noticing the tavale relationship more and more. One evening before dinner I was walking by the community hall, when a couple of men called me in for a bowl of grog. I went in, and brought my kinship chart with me. At we were sitting inside, Veresa (my brother, and Etonia's tavale) walked by carrying a sack of feed, for the pigs. Etonia said to me as if this was normal conversation, "See him? He's crazy, when he was in Suva, he spent two weeks in St. John's mental hospital, it's too bad, he's a mad boy." When I first heard this story I believed Etonia, for he told the story with such sincerity. The joke was put a side, and then five minutes later, Veresa walked by again, carrying another sack of feed, walking away from our house. Etonia made it seem like Veresa was walking around carrying the same sack. Again Etonia said, "See, he's crazy, he has to feed the pigs, and he doesn't know why he's carrying the sack of feed. Look, he's walking the wrong way -- going away from the house to feed the pigs. It's sad..." It was then that I realized that Etonia was joking at the expense of his tavale.

I observed another example of the tavale relationship one night after dinner. We were having yaqona at our place, and Veresa (the youngest of the crowd) was serving the grog to everyone. Etonia was sitting behind him, and when it came to be Etonia's turn, a few times Veresa served him a bowl of water, instead of yaqona. Veresa did it so subtly, and smirked to himself, as did Etonia. It did not seem like this joke was made into a big deal, but as the night continued, they played jokes like this on each other. Certainly the tavale is a person that Fijians love being around, for the rules of high respect do not apply, and the tavale is an outlet where friendly teasing and joking around in encouraged.

Fijian culture dictates precise rules and regulations for how kin members should act towards one another. Although children seem exempt from most of the rules (except that they should respect their elders), once Fijians marry and grow up, distinct patterns of behavior -- specifically those of respect, and even those of avoidance form within certain kin members. These roles of how to act towards other kin members are played out in the prescribed relationships people have with one another, which helps mold one's identity, for people always know what role to play in cross societal situations. The emphasis on kinship ties in Fiji is something that offers, as N. Rika suggests, "a feeling of belonging together and possessing a common ancestry and identity" (1975: 497).

In a conversation I had with my host brother, Veresa, he asked who I live with, and if the rest of my family lived nearby. When I told him that only my family lived in my town, and that most of my relatives were spread out from an hour away, to ten hours away, he found it amusing and hard to believe. He then asked me if I knew the people I lived around, in my neighborhood very well. I told him that some I did know, and some I didn't, but that they weren't like family -- that as just neighbors we would not take care of each other like family would. It is true, being surrounded by kin members, one feels a stronger sense of acceptance, security, and identity, and it is this identity that constructs the Fijian world view.

On to Chapter 3...