Sparks - Week 3 Field Notes

Note Index | Emily Sparks

Emily Sparks Week 3 Field Notes excerpts - Kinship and Social Relations

Tuesday, 9/21/99
Sentiments on the Weekend, Ideas on Culture Shock

After an extended visit to Suva, I returned back to the village with mixed emotions. I was definitely happy to come back, and appreciated it when I heard people saying, "Emily's back!" when I drove into the village. It was nice that coming back was a familiar feeling, and that after only a week, I felt at ease about walking around, and looking for people (as my host family was not here when we got back). However, I also knew that coming back meant starting up the work again -- and that long weekend was a nice break from that.

Hopefully this week it will be a bit more exciting. Looking back, and thinking about it, last week wasn't all that exciting -- there were no really interesting conversations I had with people, and I also felt like I didn't really do anything that was extremely exciting. For example, the farm was interesting on the first day, but each time I went back, I kept thinking of it as a waste of time, because I wasn't doing work. Therefore, it got kind of boring.

This past weekend I also thought a lot about culture shock, and the strange ways it takes form. I found it interesting listening to other students about their weeks, their homestay situations, and their problems during the first week. They ranged from being fully distraught to not showing any signs of annoyance, or homesickness. Personally, I am not fully adjusted -- not completely at ease with the people around me, and at times I am missing some of the comforts of home. Sometimes I wish that I could just be removed from my situation, and just hang out with the other students in the group, but I know that's not the answer. It's not like my situation in Barbados, where I didn't want to be around my host family (some of the time), because I enjoy the company of Nana, Tata, Lucy, and Ace and Aceta, it's just that I feel like it's still an effort on my part (and on their part too).

I've realized that culture shock takes form in me by making me feeling paranoid and exaggerating things. I think that I'm not doing things correctly, or that I am super-eager to please people. For example, I was very concerned that our group came back from Suva two days late. Even though Steve kept saying that it would be ok, that they would understand, I thought that what we were doing was going to help develop a bad rapport between my family and me. Tata did tell me that he was worried (he mentioned that he kept imagining that there was an accident, and that he and Nana didn't sleep that much, because they were so worried), he still said that it was ok. He let me know his concern, but also made me feel like he understood, and he did not display any animosity. Ace and Aceta also said that Nana and Tata were probably worried, but they did not make a big deal of it, they just said it in passing.

Another example of me exaggerating my relations with people, and being overly worried, is my relationship with Lucy. Sometimes I think that she is jealous of the time that I spend with other young women during the day (namely Ace and Aceta). She acts very eager to please me, and still a bit formal at times, but at other times, is very relaxed. At a time when I am feeling good about things, I realize that as long as Lucy and I spend some quality time together, she will be fine.

Since I know that culture shock is a passing phase, and that I've gone through it before, I know that these feelings of paranoia and exaggerating things are sentiments that are due to culture shock, so when I start feeling like I've done something wrong, or paranoid about things, I tell myself that I'm just being paranoid, and that I'm doing everything fine. I also realize that they will probably not bother me as time goes on. I'm kind of just passively waiting for me to stop feeling these affects.
Ace, Aceta, Waita's Gossip

On the way back from the river, Ace, Aceta and I stopped to talk with Waita (the 22yr old from Suva, recently married to Itonia). Of course they spoke in Fijian the whole time, but I could get a sense of what they were saying by the tone of their voices (whispers and giggles). Waita married Itonia just three or four weeks ago, and Ace was teasing both Waita and Aceta that maybe they would be having babies at the same time. Aceta is not married, but has a serious boyfriend, and Ace gives her a hard time about. Another example is one day Ace was saying Aceta "stayed over on the other side, last night, isn't she such a bitch? She is such a bitch" She said it laughing, and in front of Aceta's presence, so it was obviously not meant maliciously, because Aceta was laughing also.
Talk with Ace about Kin terms

Ace and Aceta walked me up to the farm today in the afternoon. We sat down and I noticed that Ace and Ilimo were teasing each other, and Ilimo was calling Ace "tavale." Of course they were speaking in Fijian, but through me, Ace was teasing Ilimo. She told me (deliberately so that he would hear), that "Ilimo has a wife now in Nakorokula, did you hear?" to which Ilimo replied loudly, "Heyyyy!!!" When they went on in Fijian, I asked what they were talking about, and Ace said to me ( in front of Ilimo), "Oh, I will tell you later, later we'll talk about Ilimo, eh?" I also noticed that when Ilimo was walking through the room where we were sitting he said, "Jilo Emily," (excuse me) but did not say jilo to Ace. [I wonder if because they are joking around cousins, that they would not have to be as polite, or as respectful.]

I asked the relationship between Ace and Ilimo, and she said that her father and Nana were brother and sister. [I think that it is interesting that Nana and her brother had to ignore each other, but their children are tavale.]

Ace told me that Fijians refer to their parallel cousins as brother and sisters. For example, her father's brother's children, would be considered her brother or sister (as opposed to cousins.) She said that one must respect (avoiding contact)these people, which if they are considered brothers and sisters, would make sense, since one must respect (and avoid contact) with their natural brothers and sisters as well.

When I used the terms "can't talk to" one's brothers and sisters, Ace informed me that "we can talk to them, but we respect them." (However, later Tata told me that, in a real old, traditional family they wouldn't talk, they would avoid."
Visas For Fijians

Today at the farm, Tata and I talked about how difficult it is for Fijians to visit other countries. Tata informed me that just to apply for a tourist visa, it costs $250 Fijian dollars ($175 American dollars)! And that most of the applications are denied. He said that the consulate has had too many cases of people saying that they are going to stay for a holiday, and end up running away because they want to work overseas. Tata said that the only way that one can usually get a visa is if someone from overseas writes a sponsor letter, inviting the person to come stay at their house.

Lucy also informed me that she would love to go and visit Australia someday, and that she has cousins that she could stay with who live there. However, she said that in the application process, they look at your bank account, and that you must have at least 2,000 Fijian dollars to be considered for a tourist visa.
Tata's Views on Tourism

At the farm we briefly talked about tourism in Fiji, because I told them that I drove along the coral coast on the way back from Suva. Tata said that now the Fiji government is trying to market Fiji to tourists, mainly from Australia and NZ. He said that it is now the biggest business in Fiji now. Before, sugar export was number one. Tata thinks that tourism is ok, but that it is not a certainty, like sugar, that "you can't guarantee it will make a lot of money, or around the same amount of money from one year to the next."
Sugar Farming -- ECONOMICS

Today at the farm we also talked about the sugarcane crop. I mentioned the cane fires that we saw on the way from Suva, and asked why those happened (I wasn't sure if there was an agricultural reason). He said that the cane fires are usually deliberate, but are a very bad thing -- people might set them because they are jealous, because they are mad a each other, etc. He said that burnt cane is no good, and that the farmer has to pay the difference of the amount if sugar that is bad. For example, a ton of burnt cane is worth less than good (unburnt) cane, and the farmer makes up the difference -- thus, he receives less per ton.

Normally, according to Tata, the sugar factory pays $75 (F) per ton on sugar. Tata produced 96 tons last years, and he thinks 100 this year. He started farming the land in the 80s, 1982 or 85 I think. Tata explained that the cane field does not need to lay fallow very often unless the plant is not cared for. He said that the rotun? (The name for the grown cane plant) gets bigger and bigger each year, and if cared for properly, can go until 25 years without a new plowing. However, when the field does have to be polished, it must lie fallow for one year afterwards, before being used for sugarcane again.
Tata/Nana ask about Anthropology

On the walk back from the farm, which is beginning to feel familiar, Tata asked me what I will be doing for the week. I explained that the big project was to do a couple of genealogies, and he asked if that was like sociology. We got into a discussion of what anthropology is. I basically explained that it is similar to sociology, but studies cultures, and the way people in different cultures look at the world. I also said that part of doing Anthropology is living with the people that you are studying to understand how they look at the world. (I wasn't quite so blunt).

Once we got talking about that, Tata asked how the other students were doing, if I'm homesick, if I feel comfortable, etc. They also asked if the professor would be coming back in two years to do the same program.
Drinking Grog with Tata, Verese, Ilimo and Nana

Tata said that tonight, if I didn't have too much work, that we were going to have to have grog, since we hadn't had it yet together. He explained that since I was away in Suva for a few days, that this was my sevusevu -- a welcome back sevusevu. He told me that the room we were sitting in (the eating room), was an addition as of last year. The new bedroom, (mine and Nana/Tatas, the eating room, and the big kitchen were all built last year.) (Home)
KINSHIP -- The Momo

I started running through the kinship terms that I had learned from Ace earlier today. Tata reconfirmed what I had learned and said that a "Momo" (a mother's brother) is also a very respectful relationship in Fijian custom. From what I understood other aunts and uncles are relaxed, but with the Momo, one must speak very politely and be respectful. Tata also said that when his sister's son died, he (Tata, the Momo) was the one to wrap the body in mats (the traditional ways), and bury the body, as a notion of respect.

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Wednesday, 9/22/99

This morning I woke up to very strong winds and rain -- a real storm. It was fun, a good excuse to stay inside and write fieldnotes from yesterday. Also, the best part about the day (so far) was that the church bells did not go off this morning, and I actually slept through until 6:30 (so exciting). I spent most of the day doing censusing and a genealogy chart with Tata -- he is a great informant, and took time to explain his relationships with certain people, as well as helped me spell all the names. Afterwards I brought the 9-page genealogy (final copy) out to him, he was very impressed, and got his glasses out so that we could lay it out and he could double check it for spelling and kin terms.

When the rain slowed down, Tata went up to the farm to see if anyone else was up there waiting to cut cane. No one was there, so he came back, and said that it was a day to relax for the can cutters. I think it's interesting how there is not set plan for cutting cane. Even on the first day, Tata went up to the farm to see if there was anyone else who was going to be up there to help him cut. However, the land is his, so no one else would really be up there, unless they had a purpose to be there. Sure enough, the first day when we arrived there were about 8 men waiting, sitting down on the ground and sharpening their machetes.

Today Nana has been washing clothes since the rain stopped, and Rebecca is wandering around the village somewhere.

This morning I helped Nana make rotis, and I gave them the maple syrup, which was delicious with the warm, just made rotis.
LIFE CYCLE -- Relating to others in Public

I've noticed in a few instances that young people -- either a newly wed couple or boyfriend-girlfriend do not pay any attention to each other whatsoever in public. noticed this kind of behavior at the fundraiser. Both Itonia and Waitia, and Aceta and her boyfriend said nothing to each other the whole night. Aceta even sat next to her boyfriend, as she was the person who was giving out the kava -- so she sat in the circle with the men, and her boyfriend was the one collecting the money, but they had no interaction with each other, besides, him telling her to pour for someone.

Also with the other couple - Waitia and Etonia, I was intentionally watching the two of them to see what kinds of interactions went on between the newly married couple. Itonia sat in one corner, with the men, and Waitia with the women. Her only reference to him was when she pointed him out to me [even though I knew already, I wanted to see if she was going to try and catch his attention.] She was eager to talk to me, as she was new to the village as well, but she did not mention her husband.
KINSHIP

Today Tata and I went over the names of some kin terms. He used Ace as an example. Ace would be my "tavale, " Nana's brother's daughter. As I mentioned before, Ilimo and Ace joke around a lot. However, yesterday when we were at the farm, Ilimo came in the room, and started joking around with Ace -- Aceta left, and helped Nana in the kitchen. At first I dismissed her abrupt move as just needing to help Nana. I thought that since Nana was all alone today (no other women to help her cook), she must have had a lot to do. However, after this conversation, I realized that Aceta and Ilimo are parallel cousins -- like brothers and sisters, thus, they can not speak and must ignore each other.

I got the feeling not only would they avoid speaking to each other, but that spending time around each other was awkward and an embarrassment. For example, Ilimo came in and said hello to Ace and I. He then walked through the room, and made a joke to Ace (his tavale). Then, he walked out, and came back through and stood in the doorway, facing the outside, where he continued to tease Ace, even though he was not facing the room. At this point, Aceta quickly got up and left through another door, and Ilimo came in and sat down, and continued joking around with Ace. From the beginning it seemed like he wanted to come in and joke around, but it was just too awkward for him to come in and sit down.
Kinship -- List of Terms

Here are some of the terms I learned today with Tata:

-Nei -- "auntie". Refers to either parents' sister

-Momo -- mother's brother

-Tavale -- father's sister's children OR mother's brother's children. Also called cross-cousin, or "kissing-cousin," (if a boy-girl relationship)

-Tata lei-lei -- literally means "little father." A father's younger brother.

-Tata levu -- literally means "big father." A father's older brother.

-Ganena -- a sister refers to her brother as this OR a brother refers to his sister as this

BUT, they don't call each other this to their face, it's just for reference. They would have to make up a nickname to by which to refer to each other. They do not talk directly to each other. (Pronounced nganena)

Taciqu -- what a sister calls her sister OR a brother calls his brother (pronounced Tathigu)

Bubu -- grandfather or grandmother (Pronounced mboo-mboo)

Tuboi -- grandfather \\Tinai -- grandmother// these are used when referring to grandmother of, or grandfather of...

Tai -- in some places grandfather, but not in Navolau
Kinship -- Brother / Sister

Tata explained that adult brothers and sisters avoid each other. When I asked him why he said that "there is no talking between them because that is a sign of respect." He went on, "Sometimes, even brothers and brothers do not talk as much out of respect. They may, but they also may not joke around as much or tease each other as much, because they show respect for each other." He said that when they are children they play with each other, and there is no difference, but when they start to become adults, during adolescence, they speak less and less.

He said that they will refer to one another, through someone else, not using each other's names -- they will have to pick a nickname, or a name which refers to the name. For example, a daughter might say to a mother, "tell your son ....."
Kinship -- Husband / Wife

Tata said that the avoidance of using someone's name also occurs between husband and wife -- for the same reason: out of respect. For example, right now tata and nana refer to each other as a nickname which is like "grandmother of pasemaca." However, Tata can not say "Pasemaca," because that's too close to his wife's name ("Vasemaca"), so he calls his wife "bobo na watina," -- a nickname. Nana refers to Tata as "bubu (or tuboi) nogu yatha" which means grandfather of my name-sake (same name). Bubu can be interchanged with "toboi" for a man and "tinai" for a woman. Everyone refers to them as this, they take on a new name. When Tata and Nana had their first chile -- Litiana, people called him "Tamai Liti," or father of Liti. MORE HERE
Personal Sentiments -- Playing Soccer on the Beach

My plan worked. Although I didn't give the soccer ball to the older boys as a gift, I still found a way to get some daily exercise, in a way that completely blends in with my village. Walking up to the farm at least is moving, but playing soccer feels like I'm doing something.

Ace came up to get me, and on the way down the village, a following of children grew larger and larger. When we walked down the road barefoot, and across the street to the beach, we had about 15-20 young women and children. We just started playing after Naibuka set up goal posts of coconut shells. He set the goals up about 40 meters apart, and the field was about 20 meters wide. We played at a medium tide, so sometimes, the ball went in the water, and the field was made wider.

At first I found the game hectic, as we did not divide up the teams, nor see if the teams were even. I turned out to be fine. We just naturally divided up into almost equal teams. When more children came down to play they naturally picked a side that seemed to be down a player or two. Positions were also vague, except for the goal keepers. There were a few boys (about 12 or 13 or so) that were very serious about playing -- faking people out, setting up plays, but everyone else enjoyed playing casually -- it didn't really matter if someone lost the ball, passed in the wrong direction, or missed a goal. When the goals were scored, the team that scored all started cheering and clapping, and sometimes people from the other side clapped as well.

At one point everyone just switched to rugby, all of a sudden, but then saw that I had no idea of what was going on, and then everyone went back to soccer. Afterwards we all walked out in the sea (which was so warm -- much warmer than my outside pipe-shower). The water level was up to my mid-calves for about 200 meters. Everyone just say down in the water and relaxed. It seemed like we were in the middle of the ocean, because we were out so far, there were land spits on either side filled with coconut trees. It was getting dark, so we didn't stay long.

While playing soccer today I felt like such a part of things. We were all cheering for each other, and all had the same interest for about one hour. The language barrier was didn't seem as big, as most people were just yelling out names. I looked around me and took in the beautiful surroundings and realized here I was playing soccer on the beach -- the south pacific in front of me, and through the coconut trees behind me was "my" village.

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Thursday, 9/23/99

Another morning of sleeping though the 4am church bells and loli (drum-type thing) -- things are looking up. :), and I slept in (7am). I didn't feel guilty about it because I wasn't feeling well last night, so I figured I had an excuse. This morning Nana made non-dairy homemade scones, with fresh paw-paw, coconut milk, flour and sugar, and cooked it on the fire (very impressive) -- they were absolutely delicious. Definitely the best thing I've eaten in Fiji so far. However, yesterday I felt nauseous, I think it's because of the dalo we had at lunch, or just an excessive amount of food yesterday. My problem is that I feel bad not eating at least a part of what they give me. I feel like they are watching what I'm eating, and telling me to eat more and more. Of course they're half-joking when they tell me to finish off a plate of something, but it is still a pressure that I feel.

This evening we played rugby in the tide instead of soccer. It was another fun game, but not as organized this time. Running around with the children is so much fun -- and the scene is absolutely beautiful. This is when I feel the best during the day -- I feel very much a part of things here, and can forget about my work for a while. After playing at the beach it's a shower, dinner, and relaxing. Today I actually did sit around and relax for a while, talking to people, instead of going back to my room to do work.

Lucy and I talked about her plans to go to USP next year. She says that she will find out if she got in during January, and the next school year starts in February -- she could either go straight to USP or take an extra year of secondary school (form 7), and go the following year. However, she says that if she is admitted, that she probably will go directly, but will not board there, will stay with relatives in Suva for the first year. She has also applied to Corpus Christi Teacher's College, and a Nursing College.
LAND for Fijians / Indians

This morning after breakfast, after Tata went up to the farm, I had an interesting conversation with Tata about land in Fiji. We listen to the news every morning while we are eating breakfast, but it is in Fijian. Tata told me that one big issue right now in Fiji is what to do with land that Indians live on now, because the lease runs up in a couple of years. This led us into a discussion about the government and land.

First, the CSR -- the Australian Cane Co. took land -- this was when the Indians came over to work as indentured servants [I wonder if he means England, since the English brought the Indians over]. Then, in 1874 Britain took the land and divided it into schedule A and schedule B land. Sch. A land is reserved for the existing mataqali. Schedule B land the government holds on to, and gives it out as mataqalis get bigger and bigger (but there has to be some kind of proo-process). (This started in 1972 I think)

The Indians live on land that the government is buying from them, for $28,000F, so that they may start businesses, and give the land to the government. This land will go into the Sch. B allotment.

However, with the government buying all this land, it is just waiting around on reserve for different mataqalis to grow. Tata thinks that this is not a good thing. He says, "if you let the land lay idol it doesn't do anything, it doesn't produce anything, and it could bring our people to poverty. It is better to have someone tend to it." He believes that the government should let the Indians farm the land that they already live on, he says, "I think we should watch out for our Indian brothers. We all live together, and letting the land lay idol is not a good idea, it's like a waste."
Pacy -- Domestic Work

Pacy (Vasemaca) is thirteen years old, and each day when I come home from the farm, she is either cooking or washing the clothes. She has taken on some extra responsibility because Nana spends her days at the farm. The younger children are all playing, as well as the boys her age. She has very little help preparing the meals. She's a very good cook.

She also seems to be the one most one her own. She always has her clothes pressed and hung (as well as pressing other children's clothes), and she goes to bed first, and I think helps Nana in the morning with breakfast as well. She's very efficient in her work -- a quick worker, and organized.

Even when she has downtime, I've found her in her room by herself making a necklace out of beads, or organizing her dresser. However, she is certainly a social person -- her laugh and distinctive nasal voice can be heard from the other end of the house when she is doing her work.

[I think that she seems so young to have so much responsibility, but she handles it all perfectly well.] Helping with breakfast, going to school all day, coming home and helping with the washing and cooking dinner is certainly a full day -- something most American families do not expect their children to take on at thirteen years old. [I wonder if she minds doing all this work while other children around her age play.]
ECONOMICS -- Sugar

Today Aceta said that boys normally start cutting sugar cane when they are about 16, 17, 18. She said that many boys are finished with school before then, but it is such difficult work, that most do not cut fully (putting in a full day's work) until they are at least 16.

Veresa also said to me today that when cutting cane, you must pace yourself. For example, he said, "Today we only have about 6 or 7 men (normally about 10-12), so we must pace ourselves so that we will be able to last the entire day, so that we won't get tired too quick."
Conversation with Ace about Openness -- Community

Today Ace and I were playing cards in her house. She asked me for the specific date which I will be leaving, and we started joking around about how that was too soon, how it will be a sad day, etc. Then she brought up a conversation that she had with her father last night at dinner. She said:

You know, I was having dinner with my father last night, and I mentioned you. I said, "you know, Emily is really a good girl, she's good to have here." And my father said, "why is that?" And I said, "well, because she's very open, and gets along with everybody, she wants to get to know everyone, you know?' Because a lot of Europeans are closed minded, and stay, you know, just in their group, or just among themselves. But you really ant to be a part of everything. (Reconstructed, but written right after she said it). Of course I was grateful for this complement, and I said that many people are that way, wanting to stick to themselves, or to their own kind.

[This made me thing that being a part of everything -- wanting to get to know everyone, and making an effort to open up to everyone is really a compliment, from the way Ace was saying it, and I think, possibly reflects the Fijian world view. From the way Ace was talking, what she said was really important, and a huge compliment -- thus, I think that Fijians believe that being able to be a part of everything, blending into the community, and being open to others is deemed important. I'm not sure if this is part of the Fijian world view, or if it's just an example from one person who has this point of view. If I contrast this with Americans, for example, I can think of many that think that openness and becoming a part of their surroundings is important, but there are also many (I think especially in cities) that do not look at this as important, and tend to stick to their own private worlds, not making any effort to become a part of their surrounding community.]
KIN TERMS: In-Laws

I learned some more kin terms from Ace today.

- Kavua -- Sister in law. They become like sisters. For Example: If Aceta married Maciu (her boyfriend), she would call his brother's wife this, and the brother's wife (wati) would call Aceta this. Woman to man; man to woman.

- Dauve -- Sister in law. For example: If I marry Ace's brother, she would call me this, and I would call her this. I think she meant she would actually call me this, not just refer to me as this. Woman to woman.

- Daku -- If Aceta married Maciu, Etonia (brothers) would call Aceta this, and she would call Etonia this. Woman to man; man to woman.
"Kere Kere," Traditional Custom -- conversation with Veresa

Today at the farm, when I got there all the men were resting, and Nana had gone to see her Tavale in Navolau #1. Veresa came down and told me where to get my lunch from. (I was happy that it was only him there, because I did not feel pressured to eat a lot of food.) We talked about music (the usual topic), and he taught me some more phrases in Fijian. When he was leaving he had to reach above where I was sitting to get a shirt. He told me that this was the traditional way to do it. Say, "Emily, Kerekere," (which means please), then reach for the shirt -- say "jilou" (excuse me). Then, sit down, clap two or three times, say "vinaka," and get up. While I would say "vinaka."

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Friday 9/24/99

I thoroughly enjoyed today -- mostly because I did everything I wanted to on my own time. I did not go to the farm at all, I did my work in the morning, spent some time with Ace and Aceta (going for a long walk), and then took my first bus into Vaileka to meet Lucy after school. While in Vaileka I enjoyed walking around the town, and getting a better feel for it -- since I haven't really spent that much time in the town yet. [I wonder if by the end Vaileka will be like Speightstown, BDS to me.] I went into town and met Lucy's friends after school at the post office. One of her friends -- Susannah, I thought was fun to be around. She was talkative, and filled me in on what was going on, in English. We went to her house, (her father is Lucy's tavale, and introduced himself as "Lucy's husband"), picked some mangoes, and went back into town to catch a bus home to Navolau.

From what I saw, Susannah's house was very "western." The kitchen had counters that looked like they were used -- a cutting board, a bread basket, and covered food sat on them. In the eating room there was a large table with 6 chairs around it. The sitting room also had couches and chairs which were centered around a television. As we were entering Lucy told me to speak in Fijian. I'm not sure what she meant, since my vocabulary is very limited, but I used the few phrases I knew.

By the time we got back to the village it was too late to play soccer at the beach because the tide was in, so we played a short game at the clearing near the church. Some boys in their young teens played with us this time, and the game felt somewhat like a real game, with smart passing, not just trying to take the ball up and shoot -- they were pretty good. However, the game was cut short due to a downpour.

Afterwards Naibuka (the 9 yr old favorite of mine) continued to pass around the ball under the covering between my room (the addition) and the rest of the house. He saw an additional sheet of stickers on my desk (I had already given him one sheet), and he got very excited and took it. I had to pry it away from him, and put it back in my room. During this process he banged the door against my head and I now have a large egg on the side of my head. I wish that Naibuka spoke more English (or of course me more Fijian) because he always comes into my room and sits, and we usually start playing some sort of game, but we never really have conversations. Today when I was coming back into the village from town, he met me at the bottom of the hill and carried my bag up to the village for me.
Flirtations with a Tavale

While in town Susannah 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, while Lucy rearranged the contents in her schoolbag. I think that Lucy was embarrassed by their behavior because she found things to do to keep her busy so that she wouldn't have to look over -- find another bag for the mangoes (when one wasn't really needed), and rearrange her schoolbooks. 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.

Saturday 9/25/99

Most of today was spent as a waste, in my opinion, and I definitely feel the effects of culture shock. In the morning I did some reading, and in the afternoon agreed to go to Vaileka with Lucy so that she could go to the doctor. I felt like going to town with her would be good opportunity for me to spend some quality time with her -- since I sometimes feel like she wishes she could be around just to hang out with me instead of being in school all day.

I agreed to go to the doctor in Vaileka with her, thinking that I would be back in time for me to play soccer during low tide -- the highlight of my days this past week, the activity where I thoroughly enjoy being in Fiji -- realize just how lucky I am to be here, and fully appreciate it. It's very rewarding because everyone on the field can understand each other on the level of the game.

Instead of efficiently getting done what Lucy needed to do in town [or maybe what I thought she should get done], that is going to the doctor, Lucy and her friends spent about four hours walking around the town, running into her schoolmates, gossiping, and acting adolescent (avoiding walking certain ways because people she didn't like were on that curb, or asking why so and so wasn't talking to another schoolmate). Of course nearly all of these conversations were in Fijian, so I was even less interested in what was going on. What made matters worse is that when Lucy suggested twice, "where should we go next?" I said, "how about the doctor," she made a face like she didn't really want to go there, and when she finally ended up in the waiting room she changed her mind, and we left the office only to walk around for a couple of more hours.

At home if I did not want to be somewhere, in most situations I could leave by myself, independently.

Being in town with these girls made me realize how a homestay situation can force someone to become dependent (even if they do not want to be.) I'm sure if I had told my sister that I wanted to leave, she would have gotten things moving in that direction (although we still wouldn't have left immediately, I'm sure). However, I felt obligated to stay with her friends as they "took care of me" while Lucy (sister) was talking to her tavale.

Overall, I would say that this situation was particularly annoying because it did not go according to my plan -- what I had envisioned in my head -- going to town for an hour to see the doctor and coming right back so that I could play soccer. This never happened at all, and I wonder if it was originally part of her plan.
KIN TERMS

Here are some more kin terms I learned today from Pacy -- the thirteen year old granddaughter that lives in our house. I think she was giving them to me as she would refer to people. tacina qasi -- elder sister tacina leilei -- little sister tacina gone -- baby sister tacina tagane -- older or younger brother nei -- aunt

She said that a sister will call a brother ganei, if the brother is younger it will be ganei- name of person.
Fundraiser in Nakorokula

Tonight when I got back from the Vaileka excursion I went down to Ace's house. She was on her way to take a bath, and she mentioned that they (Ace, Aceta, and a few other young women) had been invited to go to a fundraiser in Nakorokula -- and that they wanted me to come. I agreed to go, and invited Lucy.

We walked down the moonlit road surrounded by sugarcane and the mountain on one side, the sea on the other. Everyone wearing long sleeve shirts, sweaters, and me a raincoat, due to the stormy weather we've been having. When we got there we realized that there were two fundraisers going on -- for different mataqalis (groups of families, clans) within the village. The first one we went to I was summoned to sit outside the circle, but next to the man acting as the chief of the yaqona circle (the most respected figure there), while the other women sat farthest away from him. There were 8 women there, including myself, and about 8-10 men there (it fluctuated). This fundraiser was taking place in somebody's house, and was quiet, as there was a baby sleeping. I came up with an excuse to talk to Andrew, left the first fundraiser, and found him at the larger fundraiser in the community hall -- with all of his family, as well as many women that I recognized from the village.

This fundraiser was a louder and had a larger crowd. Again, the men sat around the yaqona bowl, while the women were in the back of the hall. There were about 10 people sitting around the kava bowl, but it wasn't defined circle, and about 25 women in the room as well. I walked up to the door, and Andrew's Tata summoned me inside, and asked someone to bring a cushion from his house, so that I could sit in between him and Andrew -- in the circle. I was also asked to play the fundraising game -- a card game whereby each member in the circle donates 50 cents each round to stay in the game, and people buy each other bowls of kava. There were also prizes to be one -- if the deck was cut, and the same card as yours came up (by number), you won a cake that Andrew's Nana baked.

[I felt very much a part of the game, and was having a lot of fun], as Andrew's Tata was telling me stories (in his drunken, kava-dazed state) about himself and Andrew. Andrew's Tata, the chief of the village was definitely a central figure in the hall. Not only was he sitting as the most respected figure, but every time he talked, people laughed, and often the entire room heard what he said. (Thus the various comments he made about me were heard by all. I'm not exactly sure what he said, but I think it was something like, "Ten cents to this girl next to me from Navolau who's name I forget.") He also was one of the main contributors to the fund -- he bought the most drinks for people, and when there was a lull in the rounds of buying kava he chipped in and bought a bowl for someone.

[I very much enjoyed being directly a part of the fundraiser. In some ways I felt like I belonged up there, even though there were no other women in the circle directly contributing -- the majority of the kava was consumed by the men -- with an exception with a bowl bought for a women occasionally. Being a part of the men's' circle seemed normal in the sense that it did not seem strange that I was playing a direct role in the fundraising. At home, playing a direct role in a social gathering, whether it be organizing a trip, collecting funds for a group, or feeling like a central part of community activity is certainly something that I'm used to. However, I do feel/know that within this society, I do not belong in the men's circle, and that if I was not a guest from overseas, that my place would be in back of the men with the other women. Looking across the room at Ace, Aceta, and Lucy I felt torn. I wanted them to be a direct part of what was going on as well, but I don't think that they would feel comfortable doing so -- taking on a role that men typically play -- being the center of the public sphere -- or would they???]

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