Tradition and modernity in the Pacific

Dewi Anggraeni, Contributor, Suva/Vila

The contingent of the Minister of Agriculture Bungaran Saragih arrived in Fiji amid continuous rituals in the nation's last farewell to their founding father, former prime minister and president Ratu Sir Kamisese Mara, who died on April 18.

On the following day on April 28, we were given a glimpse of the love and respect Ratu Mara had enjoyed during his lifetime. The hearse containing his remains was driven through the capital city Suva, where people two and three deep lined both sides of the streets.

In the central business district, many sat solemnly waiting for the procession, wishing to pay their last respects to one of Melanesian Fijians' most revered traditional chiefs.

The strength of tradition is often indicative of an agrarian society, and the economy of the 33-year-old republic in the South Pacific still rides on its agricultural and horticultural products and by-products.

To first time visitors, especially those coming from big industrialized cities, the combination of a clean environment and the availability of modern conveniences is a welcome change. Even the central business districts of Fiji's main cities of Suva and Nadi are delightfully free of aggressive commercialism.

Commerce seems to take place in a sober way. Visitors do not face the visual assaults of excessively garish outdoor advertising billboards, nor are they subjected to robust pressure by hustlers. Even in relatively large restaurants, the ambient music often provided by singers and musicians in traditional attire is discreet and unintrusive.

While private cars are widely used, city buses and taxis are the main means of public transportation for those who commute without private vehicles.

With over 60 percent of the country still covered with thick forest, and most of the arable land managed by small holding farmers and cottage industry operators, traveling in the lush and undulating rural areas is like an eternal escape from the proverbial rat race.

For visitors from Indonesia, eating here is a pleasurable and interesting experience. The abundance of fresh produce yields many familiar ingredients, such as ginger, chili, coconut, cassava and other root vegetables, yet they all have particular Pacific tastes to make them unique. Beef, chicken and seafood, cooked in a traditional manner as well as in Western recipes, are never absent from the menu.

At the moment, rice is still the secondary choice to cassava, but it is increasingly more common. In fact, one of the purposes of Bungaran Saragih's ministerial visit was to pledge Indonesia's assistance in developing Fiji's rice-growing program.

Leaving Fiji to head to Vanuatu late in the evening, the exhausted group was quickly lulled to sleep during the one and a half hour westward flight to Port Vila.

Stepping down onto the tarmac, the warm humidity outside only rocked us further into our dreamy state.

"Are you the group from Indonesia?" came a question floating in our consciousness. "Step this way, please."

Suddenly from a distance there was yelling and shouting. We turned sleepily in the direction of the noise, and saw to our bewilderment a group of traditional young warriors rushing toward us, now conversing among themselves, now interrogating us, sinisterly waving their weapons.

We were promptly brought to full wakefulness and bafflement all at once. Not speaking the language, we felt vulnerable, even besieged. When some of the warriors examined the minister's hands, an older person in a more chiefly attire suddenly emerged, and spoke calmly to the group. This seemed to mollify the warriors, who stepped back while we were then ushered into the airport's VIP room.

It was surreal, as if we had just stepped in and out of a different world in a space of a couple of blinks. However, it was a symbolic introduction to Vanuatu's way of maintaining the tradition and allowing a degree of modernity in its daily life.

Having been eased into the Pacific pristine environment in Fiji, where the 18,370 square kilometers are shared by a population of 800,000, we were no longer surprised by the comparable situation in Vanuatu, a country with a population of just over 200,000. However, the similarities do not stretch beyond the physical geography and landscape.

A predominance of Melanesian in the population (98 percent) makes them on the whole look considerably darker, and the men do not combine Western attire with malo (a short sarong) like in Fiji; they wear pants. Thus, in a way, they come across as more Western. The town center in Port Vila is more reminiscent of a French provincial town than the central business district in Suva.

Another unique aspect of Vanuatu is that, having been an administrative territory of France and Britain until its independence in 1980, most of the educated people speak both French and English, as well as Bislama, their lingua franca, and their respective traditional languages.

Like Fiji, Vanuatu is also vastly agrarian, where most of the farmers are not only small land-holding managers, but still practice subsistence farming. In Efate, the island where Port Vila is situated, many of the men who work in town in the hospitality industry, such as taxi drivers and hotel employees, still hold on to their farming land in their traditional villages.

The country appears to make considerable use of Western influence on the running of its government, all the while guarding its tradition. Traditional practices are maintained in the rural areas, yet Port Vila has a sophisticated chamber of commerce with approximately 5,000 members, providing a powerful lobby in the government. The Port Vila Chamber of Commerce, founded by an Act of Parliament in 1995, has projects funded by at least 10 percent of the fees paid by its members to the government.

Supermarkets in town sell modern commodities and allow international visitors pressed for the local currency vatu to use Australian dollars in their transactions, yet within a stone's throw a traditional market still practices a local way of buying and selling. Stalls display stacks of different items, all priced Vt100, and buyers select the desired combination and pay the price. No foreign currencies are accepted here.

Personal interaction seems a lot more straightforward in Vanuatu than in any Asian country. This may have contributed to minister Saragih's success in making inroads into better relations between Indonesia and Vanuatu. According to his own theory, being a Batak he does not beat around the bush. And to his credit, he is also not one to put on airs.

When presenting Indonesia's gifts of five hand tractors to Vanuatu's farmers, and US$40,000 in cash to help victims of cyclone Ivy which had hit Vanuatu late in February, he said that he was bearing a gift from one developing country to another. Emphasizing that Indonesia had a fair number of ethnic Melanesians in its population, Saragih said the gifts were a gesture heralding cooperation between two brothers, not between a donor and a recipient country.

Vanuatu's Acting Prime Minister Ham Lini made a point of saying that Indonesia had been regarded as an enemy by the Melanesians. The image was of a country where Melanesians were treated with contempt, oppressed and disenfranchised. However, having met and spoken with minister Saragih, the acting prime minister was willing to review his perception. "Maybe we have misunderstood you," he said.

Unlike interactions between Asian countries, where the need for interpretation was paramount, in the South Pacific countries, you know where you stand with them.

Back in Melbourne, a friend asked "So, did you do any snorkeling?"

Snorkeling?

"Yes, Vanuatu is an ideal place for snorkeling! The limpid sea, the coral reefs..."

"Oh, snorkeling! Yes, of course! I mean, no, I didn't have time. I was too busy enjoying myself observing their lifestyle."

The friend walked off in disgust.