HONIARA IS HARD” the Domestic Moral Economy of the Kwara’Ae People of Gilbert Camp, Solomon Islands

“HONIARA IS HARD” The Domestic Moral Economy of the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp, Solomon Islands

A thesis submitted to the University of Manchester for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in the Faculty of Humanities

2014

RODOLFO MAGGIO

School of Social Sciences Department of Social Anthropology

LIST OF CONTENTS

Page LIST OF CONTENTS ...... 2 LIST OF TABLES ...... 3 LIST OF FIGURES ...... 4 LIST OF PLATES ...... 5 LIST OF MAPS ...... 6 LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS ...... 7 GLOSSARY ...... 8 ABSTRACT ...... 9 DECLARATION ...... 10 COPYRIGHT STATEMENT ...... 11 ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ...... 12

Chapter 1 Introduction ...... 15 Chapter 2 “Gilbert Camp is our Hom”: The Kwara’ae People of Gilbert Camp ...... 41 Chapter 3 “Living a Good Life”: The Economy of Gilbert Camp ...... 85 Chapter 4 “Big Confusion”: The Land Question in Gilbert Camp ...... 135 Chapter 5 “According to Kastom, According to Law”: Wrongdoing in Gilbert Camp .... 181 Chapter 6 “I am in Debt to Myself”: Pentecostal Conversion in Gilbert Camp ...... 229 Chapter 7 Conclusion: Hom and Honiara ...... 273

APPENDIX A – 7 HOUSEHOLDS ...... 295 APPENDIX B – KINSHIP ...... 345 APPENDIX C – PRESCRIPTIONS ...... 351 APPENDIX D – TRANSACTIONS ...... 353 APPENDIX E – QUESTIONNAIRE ...... 393 APPENDIX F – SURVEY ...... 397 APPENDIX G – BY LAWS ...... 403 APPENDIX H – TRANSCRIPT OF THE RESTITUTION CASE ...... 413 APPENDIX I – LIST OF PENTECOSTAL CHURCHES IN HONIARA ...... 425 APPENDIX J – TIME ALLOCATION ...... 441

BIBLIOGRAPHY ...... 443

Word count: 79,692 2 LIST OF TABLES

Table Page

Table 1.1 Case studies classified according to Gluckman and Eckstein ...... 36 Table 2.1 District of origin of migrant households to Gilbert Camp ...... 65 Table 2.2 Type of education of people in Gilbert Camp ...... 67 Table 2.3 Ethnolinguistically endogamous and exogamous households in Gilbert Camp .. 70 Table 2.4 Indigenous statements about hom and Honiara ...... 79 Table 3.1 Transactions observed in Gilbert Camp ...... 104 Table 3.2 Transactions observed between Gilbert Camp and Malaita ...... 105 Table 3.3 Transactions observed in Malaita ...... 105 Table 3.4 Sikret Fren exchanges, Gilbert Camp, November 12th 2011 ...... 117 Table 3.5 Kwara’ae and Pidgin Kinship terms ...... 119 Table 5.1 Timeline of the case study, 2000-2011 ...... 192 Table 5.2 Timeline of the case study, 2012 ...... 193 Table 5.3 Key terms used during the meeting ...... 194 Table 5.4 Pidgin personal pronouns and their relational meaning ...... 214

3 LIST OF FIGURES

Figure Page

Figure 2.1 Number of households settled over time ...... 64 Figure 2.2 Ethno-linguistic affiliation of Gilbert Camp households ...... 68 Figure 2.3 Religious affiliation in Gilbert Camp households ...... 73 Figure 3.1 Percentage of households cultivating a garden ...... 93 Figure 3.2 Kinship diagram of Anna’s transactions with the Kakadi household...... 108 Figure 3.3 Kinship Diagram of Rose’s Easter transactions ...... 111 Figure 4.1 Matrilineal inheritance in North-western Guadalcanal ...... 147 Figure 5.1 Kinship and spatial relations connecting the opposed parties ...... 186 Figure 5.2 Rhoda told Ethel who told George that Jane told Rhoda ...... 188 Figure 5.3 Position of participants in the office of the CPO ...... 190 Figure 5.4 Four sets of oppositions in the police station ...... 218 Figure 5.5 Simplified tafuli’ae ...... 221 Figure 6.1 Percentage of denominational changes ...... 243

4 LIST OF PLATES

Plate Page

Plate 1.1 The Boys Lodge ...... 15 Plate 2.1 Boys playing football in Gilbert Camp ...... 41 Plate 2.2 Gilbert Camp after the fire, September 13th, 1977 ...... 58 Plate 3.1 Young Kwara’ae girl behind the bars of a store, handing a SBD$ 2 note ...... 85 Plate 3.2 The horticultural gardens ...... 92 Plate 3.3 Clement, Betty and their son Joshua preparing doughnuts ...... 97 Plate 3.4 Two members of the Mothers’ Union exchanging cups and plates ...... 116 Plate 3.5 The ‘No Kaon’ notice ...... 128 Plate 4.1 The land meeting, Aekafo, May 17th, 2012 ...... 135 Plate 4.2 Valeriano receiving a chupu, Honiara, March 28th, 2012 ...... 169 Plate 4.3 Women demonstrating during the workshop, Honiara, April 4th, 2012 ...... 171 Plate 5.1 Nathan supervising the compensation ...... 181 Plate 6.1 Pentecostal men and women receiving the gifts of the Holy Spirit ...... 229 Plate 7.1 Children jumping between two shores ...... 273

5 LIST OF MAPS

Map Page

Map 2.1 Archipelago of Solomon Islands ...... 44 Map 2.2 Guadalcanal ...... 44 Map 2.3 Gilbert Camp and the Honiara Town Boundary ...... 45 Map 2.4 Aerial view of Gilbert Camp ...... 46 Map 2.5 Ethno-linguistic regions of Guadalcanal ...... 55 Map 2.6 Ethno-linguistic regions of Malaita ...... 69 Map 2.7 Topography of Gilbert Camp ...... 71 Map 4.1 The town boundary according to Harold ...... 154

6 LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS

ACOM Anglican Church Of Melanesia AOG Assemblies of God BSIP British Solomon Islands Protectorate BWC Bible Way Centre COC Christian Outreach Centre CPO Chief Police Officer FTE Fixed-Term Estate GPG Guadalcanal Provincial Government GRA Guadalcanal Revolutionary Army HCC Honiara City Council IFM Isatabu Freedom Movement JW Jehovah’s Witnesses KHMI Kingdom Harvest Ministries International MEF Malaita Eagle Force MOK Ministries Of Kingdom PNG Papua New Guinea PO Police Officer RAMSI Regional Assistance Mission to Solomon Islands RCC Roman Catholic Church SBD Solomon Islands Dollars SDA Seventh Day Adventists SIISLAP Solomon Islands Institutional Strengthening Land Assistance Project SSEC South Seas Evangelical Church TOL Temporary Occupation Licence UC United Church UPC United Pentecostal Church

7 GLOSSARY

Kwara’ae (K), Guale (G), and Pidgin (P) Terms

abu: K. 1) adj. sacrosanct, holy. 2) adj. kaon: P. n. debt, credit. forbidden. 3) adj. engaged, betrothed. 4) inter. Don’t do that! kastom lo: P. n. customary law. akalo: K. n. ancestral ghost. kastom: P. n. shared traditions, contemporary ideas perceived to be ankol: P. n. 1) uncle. 2) nephew, niece. grounded in shared traditions. alafe’anga: K. n. kindness. kini: K. n. woman.

’auabu’̄ a: K. n. prescriptions intended to kwaima’anga: K. n. generosity. realise the principle of abu. maket haus: P. n. small shop or canteen. ara’ikwao: K. n. whiteman. masta liu: P. n. unemployed, good-for- chupu: G. n. ceremony involving public nothing. offering of foodstuff and valuables. mae: K. n. death. duli: G. n. tribe, matrilineage. main: K. n. mind, common sense. fa’aabuā : K. n. maintenance and/or restoration of a person’s status as ngwae: K. n. person. abu. sasapa: G. n. hunting ground. fa’alia: K. n. offence that devalues the status of the victim. tafuli’ae: K. n. type of shell money. fa’amanata’anga: K. n. teaching. tina: G. n. family. family kaon buk: P. n. debt records of a to’ato’a: K. n. compensation. single household. traeb: P. n. tribe. fangata’a: K. adj. selfish. vuvungu: G. n. clan. fangale’a: K. adj. generous. waitman: P. n. a person from Europe, fanoa: K. n. community. America, or Australia. gwaung’i: K. highly ranked person having a wantok: P. n. 1) a person from the same deep knowledge of kastom. language area as the speaker or referent. 2) fig. a person with whom a hom: P. homeland; for Malaitans, the relationship is as close as that with island of Malaita. someone from the same language area.

ABSTRACT

The University of Manchester Rodolfo Maggio Doctor of Philosophy in the Faculty of Humanities

“HONIARA IS HARD”: The Domestic Moral Economy of the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp, Solomon Islands

30 September 2014

This thesis concentrates on the Kwara’ae people of a peri-urban settlement named Gilbert Camp. Originally from Malaita (hom), they migrate and settle in Honiara, capital city of Solomon Islands. They articulate their condition in relation to two sets of value oppositions. The first opposes hom as their primitive, isolated, and hopeless province of origin; and Honiara as the modern, all-promising, all-fulfilling arrival city. The second juxtaposes hom as the epitome of unity, cooperation, and sameness, where life is easy; and Honiara as the place where diversity, competition, and separation reign, and life is hard. The Kwara’ae people leave hom and settle in Honiara because they value what lacks in the former and can be found in the latter. But in Honiara they despise some of the things they must confront, and miss what they can have at hom but not in Honiara. For these reasons, they repeatedly declare, “Honiara is hard” (Honiara hemi had). However, rather than interpreting their statements about life in town as the symptom of a negative evaluation, I try to capture the extent to which the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp value their urban life in a positive way. The starkest illustration of their commitment to town life is in their daily efforts to deal with the tensions over the meaning and use of their values in the urban context. I analyse these tensions, challenges, and negotiations in a series of ethnographically grounded case studies. In a peri-urban village of a shrinking Pacific economy where there is a general disproportion between income and mouths to feed, a tension between the priorities of kinship and the need to make ends meet is almost inevitable. Secondly, the confusion surrounding the issue of land causes tensions concerning how land must be dealt with. There is also a tension between customary and state law, and between historical and recent forms of Christianity. Kwara’ae people use their creativity and cultural knowledge to find viable solutions to these tensions, which I argue is an illustration of how much they try to live according to their values on the outskirts of Honiara. It follows that the statement “Honiara is hard” indicates the measure of their efforts, of how intensely they want to live in Honiara according to their values, rather than the measure of how much they want to go back hom. This interpretation has important implications for the anthropology of urban Melanesia. Previous urban ethnographies in Solomon Islands emphasised the reproduction of hom values, rather than the creation of a new hom through the manipulation of contemporary cultural logics. Although the former approach coheres with negative evaluations of the urban context, it does not account for why people leave a place where life is “easy”, and settle in a place where it is “hard”. In contrast, an approach emphasising the hom-making process inherent in daily value negotiations reveals the contingent, unpredictable, and contested construction of the sense of homeliness with which Kwara’ae people are turning Gilbert Camp into their new hom.

DECLARATION

No portion of the work referred to in the thesis has been submitted in support of an application for another degree or qualification of this or any other university or other institute of learning.

10 COPYRIGHT STATEMENT

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11 ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The present thesis came into being thanks to a multiplicity of contributions that I wish to acknowledge. First of all, I am forever indebted to my supervisor Chris Gregory who has encouraged me during the most challenging times of my fieldwork, accompanied me throughout the analysis of my data, and so patiently scrutinized the organization of my research material. My argument is all the poorer where I have failed to follow his guidance. I am also grateful to Karen Sykes who first believed in my research project and granted me the opportunity to participate in the research project “The Domestic Moral Economy: An Ethnographic Study Of Value In The Asia Pacific Region” (hereafter, the DME Project). My fieldwork was possible thanks to the friendship, kindness, care, and love of the people of Gilbert Camp, who so generously provided me with information, inspiration, support, and a home away from home. Though no words could ever express my gratitude, I would like to thank Gordon Kakadi, Helen Taka Arote’e, Leonard Kakadi, Jacob Moli, Celes Hart, Ralph Edward, Charles Edward Dougnolle, Fred David Selewa, Clement Oikali, Betty Sango Lomani, Manaseh Oikali, Geoffrey Ogamauri, Rose Henry, Henry Uga, Betty Suri, Roswell Mu’animae Olea, Cyril Gafemanu Olea, William Heron Misimanu, David Tome, Rose Tala, Stephen Si’nala, Grace Mae’labu, and Leslie Bonirara; bae mi no fogetem olsamtin wea iu mekem fo mi finis. Among the many pastors of Pentecostal Churches, I owe special thanks to Ellison Barko, John Mark Olea, John Hugo, Alfred Alufurae, Fredson Fenua, Nemuel Laufilu, Hudson Kwalea, and Hennessey Maetala, for allowing me to conduct participant observation in their churches. From the first day of my fieldwork I was always able to count on the moral and intellectual encouragement of Terry Brown. I am also grateful to Michael Scott who put me in touch with Ben Wade, who in turn introduced me to Gordon Kakadi, thereby initiating what I see as a very productive fieldwork and life changing experience. During the pre-fieldwork and the post-fieldwork phases, I received invaluable help from both the administrative and academic staff of the Department of Social Anthropology at the University of Manchester. In particular, I would like to thank Gillian Evans, Maia Green, Keir Martin, Michelle Obeid, Madeleine Reeves, Katherine Smith, Soumhya Venkatesan, and Peter Wade, for their expert advice and unfailing encouragement. I am also most grateful to my colleagues at the Department of Social Anthropology who read and commented upon individual chapters. I am especially indebted to the members of our Writing Group: Flavia Kremer, Ines Ponte, Rachel Smith, and Jessica Symons. I am equally grateful to the members of the DME Project, Fiona Magowan, Jon Altman, and Jennifer Tomoe Peachey for their friendship and teamwork. Outside Manchester, I was fortunate to have encountered many colleagues in anthropology and cognate disciplines who encouraged me and contributed to my research. During my trips to and from the field, I spent some time in Brisbane, where Clive Moore kindly granted me access to his archive on the history of Solomon Islands at the University of Queensland, an opportunity for which I wish to thank him. In Canberra, following the kind advice of Martha Macintyre, I accessed Nigel Oram’s manuscripts from the Pacific Manuscripts Bureau at the Australian National University. Chapter 2 is largely based upon material I collected on these occasions.

12 Preliminary versions of the chapters of this thesis were all presented as papers at different venues. During the workshop Domestic Moral Economy: Rethinking Kinship and Economy in Oceania (Australian National University, Canberra, 3-4.9.2012), Nicolas Peterson offered me helpful insights into the concept of domestic moral economy (which I applied in chapter 3) and Rebecca Monson introduced me to her research on land in Guadalcanal, which was extremely helpful to clarify some of the issues discussed in chapter 4. During the 2012 conference of the European Society for Oceanists, entitled The Power of the Pacific: Values, Materials, Images (University of Bergen, Bergen, 5-8.12.2012), I received helpful advice from Christine Dureau, Franca Tamisari, and Tomi Bertole, particularly concerning the anthropological study of religion. During the workshop entitled The Costs of Culture: Ritual Economics and the Domestic Moral Economy (Queen’s University, Belfast, 16.09.2013) Jonathan Parry inspired further reflection on the ritual exchange presented in chapter 3. Daniela Kraemer, Johanna Whiteley, Benjamin Burt, and Dave Robinson patiently listened to an early and overly long version of chapter 5 at the Austronesian Research Seminar (London School of Economics, London, 14.11.2013), and offered me their advice on how to strengthen its argument, tighten the analysis, and increase readability. I presented a shorter version of that same paper during the workshop organised by the Association for Political and Legal Anthropology (AAA Annual Meeting, Chicago, 21.11.2013) and received further advice on how to improve it from Carole McGranahan and Tanja Winther. I am grateful to Annelin Eriksen who invited me to one of the GenPent seminars at the University of Bergen (Bergen, 9-12.12.2013), where I received inspiration and encouragement from Naomi Haynes, Juliet Gilbert, Michelle MacCarthy, Thomas Mountjoy, and Ruy Blanes, on ways on how to improve an early version of chapter 6. Last but not least, I am grateful to Ullrich Kockel and Vitalija Stepušaitytė for organizing the panel Imaginaries of home (ASA Conference, University of Edinburgh, 21.06.2014) where I had the opportunity to present and receive feedback on a version of chapter 7. During that panel, Grit Wesser suggested some pertinent bibliographic references, and Franz Buhr generously shared his critical reflections on home-making practices with me, thereby suggesting relevant connections between my data and some contemporary theoretical debates. I must particularly acknowledge with gratitude that my research project was funded by a grant from the Economic and Social Research Council, and my research permit was approved by The Ministry of Education and Human Resources Development of Solomon Islands. I benefitted twice from the Gluckman Fund to finance my participation, accommodation, and transportation costs to attend some of the conferences mentioned above. I would also like to mention that an essay in which I discussed the exchange ritual presented in chapter 3 was awarded the 2013 Arthur Maurice Hocart Prize from the Royal Anthropological Institute. Also, a portion of chapter 6 is currently under review for publication in the edited volume The Gender of the Church: Towards a re-definition of gender through Christianity in Melanesia. My gratitude goes to each and every person and institution that believed in and contributed to my research. While I am aware that the omission of other much loved friends and relatives in this list is unfair, I want to thank my grandparents Costanza Caraglio and Letizio Cacciabue for their unconditional, constant, and joyful presence in my life during the challenging pathway towards the completion of my doctoral programme.

14 CHAPTER 1

INTRODUCTION

Plate 1.1 The Boys Lodge

“When you go home, you must write a book about us, the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp.”

Freddie

15 1. Argument of the thesis

The Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp, a peri-urban settlement on the outskirts of Honiara, the capital city of Solomon Island, habitually declare: “Honiara is hard” (Honiara hemi had).

This thesis is an attempt to grasp their point of view to understand what they mean by that.

Originally from Malaita, they began migrating to Honiara towards the end of the Second

World War. Malaita is still “home” (hom) for them, but at the same time they are trying to transform Gilbert Camp into a place where they can live well. That is far from easy, because in the peri-urban context they are confronted with multiple tensions emerging from the contradictions between their urban life and the values that they consider fundamental to their culture. Their challenge, thus, is to live a “good” life notwithstanding these tensions.

Living a “good” life implies many daily struggles. They must ensure subsistence for their immediate families but in a way that allows for the maintenance of harmonious social relations between kin, neighbours, friends and members of their religious community; they struggle to voice their concerns over the security of their settlement because government officials and landowners cause great confusion about the issue of land; they need to find ways to regulate life in the settlement in terms of both state and customary law, and to settle disputes when these arise among members of the community; even their religious affiliation can be a source of tension with members of other denominations, although they also make use of Christianity to cope with tensions resulting from clashes of value.

It follows that prima facie, a statement such as “Honiara is hard” seems to suggest that living on the outskirts of the capital city corresponds to a continuous struggle to live according to the values of unity, cooperation, sense of belonging and quality of life that

Kwara’ae people associate with hom. However, such an interpretation would not account for why more and more migrants keep coming (see Fig. 2.1), settling down, investing their

16 resources in long-term life projects, and adapting their lifestyles to the urban context. Some of them say that such efforts are just a temporary sacrifice in view of an eventual return to hom. Some miss what they can have at hom, and would do without the challenges they must confront in Honiara. But many see hom also as primitive, insulated, and miserable. Thus, they leave it and settle in Honiara, because they value what lacks in the former and can be found in the latter. However, they can only live in Honiara under certain conditions. In order to lead what they consider a “good” life, they attempt to modify the urban context, even if that might require daily negotiations and generate endless tensions.

My argument, thus, is that Kwara’ae people’s daily efforts to negotiate such tensions indicate the extent to which they want to live their lives in Honiara, and especially how they want to live them. What is “hard” about Honiara, in other words, is not just life itself, but the efforts that Kwara’ae people make to realize the values that they consider to be an indispensable part of their existence.

I investigate these efforts in a set of social situations, namely the negotiations over the allocation of resources, the multiplicity of land claims, a compensation meeting organised to solve a dispute, and the relations between Pentecostalism, gender roles and the domestic moral economy of the Kwara’ae household. My conclusion is that there is no contradiction between contemptuous statements about Honiara and commitment to urban life as long as one looks at both as illustrations of how intensely Kwara’ae people want to live according to their values in a context where doing so requires constant and arduous negotiations. Below, I illustrate how I came to concentrate on these issues, the methodology I applied to explore them, and how I organised such material in the present thesis.

17 I went to Solomon Islands to study the people of Gilbert Camp as part of the DME

Project, an ethnographic research project investigating the anthropology of value in the

Asia-Pacific region. Together with the other researchers in our team, the perspective from which I conducted my fieldwork was that of the domestic moral economy. The theoretical and methodological agenda of the project focuses on money transfers and costly rituals performed by people connected by webs of kinship relations. In particular, the project examines how people react to conditions of moral ambiguity in everyday life. My contribution consisted of an investigation into how Kwara’ae people use their resources, especially food and money, in relation to their roles within kinship and friendship networks, and how they address everyday moral dilemmas.

In Gilbert Camp, the relations between money and morality is complicated by the potential incompatibilities between the values of Kwara’ae tradition and those of market economy.⁠1 Such incompatibilities create tensions in various social contexts, tensions that

Kwara’ae people try to resolve the best they can. Furthermore, the recent burgeoning of

Pentecostal churches currently influences this process. With its Gospel of Prosperity, this form of Christianity provides new spaces of negotiation of the contradictions between moral and economic values. In summary, money, kinship, and Pentecostalism were the issues I intended to investigate when I designed my research proposal. However, while I was doing fieldwork, I modified my initial project following the views of my informants.

1 In the Introduction to his recent book about the urban life of the Kwara’ae man Michael Kwa’ioloa, Ben Burt made extensive use of the word ‘value’, frequently in constructions such as “contradictory values”, “colonial values”, “traditional values”, “values in town” and “in rural Malaita”, as well as in expressions such as “moral bonds” and “moral effect” (Kwa’ioloa & Burt, 2013: 1-28). I take this as evidence that an anthropological study of Kwara’ae values in Honiara is of utmost relevance today.

18 When I arrived in Gilbert Camp, I had a long list of research questions about the aforementioned issues and I was looking forward to filling the blank spaces with loads of data. However, as I was undertaking my data collection, I realised that I did not take into account some of the issues my informants considered important, such as land, the name of dead relatives, and gender roles. Land is important for the Kwara’ae people, because it provides space to dwell and cultivate. It also gives them a sense of security and protection, because they inherited it from their ancestors. The importance of their relationship with their ancestors also explains why it is so important for them to keep the name of a dead relative abu.2 It is a way to please the akalo, the ghost of an ancestor from whom the prosperity of a community depends. Gender roles are also very important because it is on the basis of their domestic arrangement that households are organised. So, in addition to money, kinship, and the influence of Pentecostalism, I included land, abu, and gender in the range of aspects that I looked at in my study of negotiations over incompatible values in

Gilbert Camp.

The theme of the incompatibilities between values in Melanesia is a complex one, although it is often simplified as the historical result of the introduction of the three Cs,

2 To put it simply, things towards which a respectful behaviour ought to be shown are referred to as abu. However, abu also means that it is forbidden to do something with those things. And yet, abu does not mean ‘forbidden’ in itself. The word is used in this sense in a sentence (“Abu!”), but that is just an interjection, which has a different conceptual meaning. Thus, it is not possible to take that expression at face value and generalise it in order to give meaning to abu as a principle. That would be nothing more than the application of a classical philological approach. Such an approach would fail to place the word abu within the context in which it is used. However, that does not mean that it is not possible to abstract the idea of abu out of these contexts. Kwara’ae people do that all the time. To my understanding, abu is the principle of appropriateness or righteousness. This is the meaning that I claim Kwara’ae people give to abu as the idea that lies behind all the dos and the don’ts mentioned daily by Kwara’ae people (’auabu’̄ a), especially when they scold their children. However, I suppose that ‘common sense’, rather than ‘principle’, is the way Kwara’ae people would call it if they had to formulate it as a unitary concept in English language.

19 namely Colonialism, Christianity, and Capitalism. Historical explanations of this kind are based on the assumption that Melanesian cultures, if not all cultures, are internally coherent systems of values which would have just continued to exist in their contradiction-free purity had they not come into contact with other internally coherent systems of values, such as

‘Western culture’ (Sahlins, 1985). This view resonates with popular associations of

‘Melanesia’ with, just to name a few, the gift, reciprocity, and the dividual person on the one hand, and the ‘West’ with commodities, self-interest, and the individual person on the other

(Carrier, 1995). The observation of social life reveals a rather different picture, one in which no act can be labelled as either purely selfish or purely altruistic (Graeber, 2012: 89-90, 262), totally relational or “unrelentingly individualist” (cf. Robbins, 2004: 293), and that there is no such a thing as a pure gift (Malinowski, 2013 [1926]: 22-49). Therefore, it is possible to explain the tensions between values in Melanesia as the mere historical outcome of contact between different cultures only as long as one deliberately ignores that contradictions and moral dilemmas are actually part and parcel of social life per se.

Kwara’ae society, like all human societies, has its own contradictions, as well as its own ways of coping with such contradictions, 3 which existed well before any contact with

‘modernity’. It follows that the tensions between the values of what Kwara’ae people see as tradition and the values that they associate with life in town is not the only kind of tension one can investigate in Honiara. However, this tension is probably the most discussed topic among Kwara’ae people living in Gilbert Camp today, which is the main reason why it became the overall theme of this thesis.

3 I discuss this aspect in the light of a brief case study in chapter 3.

20 What Kwara’ae people mean when they speak about their traditional values is a fundamental issue whose terms I must briefly define. They use the terms falafala, tradition, and kastom, interchangeably (Gegeo & Gegeo, 2001: 59), and the same rhetorical choice I make in this thesis. The meaning of Malaitan kastom has been extensively discussed (Akin

2005; Carrier, 1992; Demian, 2003; Jolly and Thomas, 1992; Keesing, 1982a; 1982b; 1982c;

1993; J.W. Turner, 1997). Summing up a great deal of literature, one could say that kastom refers both to shared traditions and to contemporary ideas and institutions that people perceive to be grounded in such traditions. Thus, people make use of kastom in a rather creative and flexible way, for political purposes as well as within the context of economic mechanisms such as compensation claims and land dealings (Akin, 2013). However, I think that Kwara’ae people would put it in a slightly more straightforward way, and say that

“Kastom represents the values by which they would like to live” (Burt, 1982: 381).

The study of how Melanesians live in the urban context is a relatively recent one, although it has been fairly popular in Papua New Guinea (PNG) since the 1930s.4 Much less has been written about the urban Solomon Islands. In 1964 Michael Bellam, at the time a graduate student in geography at the University of Wellington, was probably the first to investigate the lives of Solomon Islanders in Honiara. His observations on the urban male population depict an essentially home-oriented migrant who has no interest in town life beyond the immediate, mainly job-related, purposes of his temporary settlement (Bellam,

1964).

4 See Belshaw, 2013 [1957]; Goddard, 2001; 2005; Gregory, 1980; 1982; Groves, 1954; Jackson, 1976; 1977; Levine & Levine, 1979; May, 1977; Oram, 1976; Rawlings, 1999; Salisbury & Salisbury, 1977; Strathern, 1972; 1975; Whiteman, 1973; F. E. Williams, 1932.

21 Concomitantly, the urban geographer Terry McGee argued that the emphasis on the dualism between rural and urban context misled much of the then current research on urban-rural migration (McGee, 1964). In contrast, urban anthropologists in Melanesia sought to analyse the connections between urban and rural context in terms of continuity

(Sillitoe, 2000: 163-180), rather than through the lens of a formal dualism. The result was a depiction of Melanesian town folks as culturally ambivalent (cf. Levine & Levine, 1979) and spatially bi-local (Carrier and Carrier, 1989).

However, it seems to me that some anthropological studies of the ‘ambivalent’ migrant in Honiara still place more emphasis on home-oriented attitudes and less on commitment to life in town. This is reflected in the research orientation of the some recent studies. Cato Berg, for example, in his MA thesis defended in 2000 at the University of

Bergen, described urban Solomon Islanders who envisage Honiara as a place for temporary sojourn and the village of origin as the place where their identity is derived and where they will eventually return (Berg, 2000: 6-7). Nothing seems to have changed since the time in which Bellam was writing.

To take another example, in her 2009 MA thesis presented at Concordia University,

Michaela Knot discussed “how urban temporality reconfigures gender” (Knot, 2009: iii; my italics). She noted that “some migrants will enter Honiara for only short periods and other for longer periods” (Ibid.), as if their return to home was somehow taken for granted.

Furthermore, Knot’s argument suggests that gender is exported from the rural context and modified in town, as if two mutually exclusive conceptions of gender existed. Ultimately, the modified notion of gender will re-enter the rural context, thereby altering it with its supposedly innovative urban elements. Although Knot seems to distance herself from modernist theories of migration, her argument of the rural-urban-rural movement

22 represents Solomon Islanders as engaged in exporting tradition into town and importing modernity into the rural context in a rather unselective way,5 thereby reproducing the rural- urban divide. Again, not much seems to have changed. True, circular migration has been the prominent type of migration in Solomon Islands for a long time (Frazer, 1985; Jourdan,

1985; Alasia, 1989; Berg, 2000). But such preponderance is not intended to be interpreted as a general lack of commitment to life in town by the part of urban migrants.

In accordance with such a position, Jourdan notes:

[…] new kinds of social networks based on neighbourhood, work place, church membership, and friendship cut across the traditional kinship and wantok6 ties and allow new social relations to be established. To the permanent town dwellers this is an important aspect of urban life. […] It is at the same time an affirmation of the independence one has acquired from the omnipresence of the village social order, its structures of kinship and affinity. This newly acquired social (and to a lesser extent economic) incorporation into a very much valued way of life, serves to reinforce the town dweller’s ties to the urban environment and contributes to a loosening of his/her ties with the village. (Jourdan, 1985: 72; my italics)

Perhaps the tendency of some anthropological studies to reproduce the urban-rural dichotomy results from the more-or-less implicit perception of the urban context as a place largely devoid of ‘culture’ (cf. Carrier, 1992: 6; Jourdan et al., 1996), especially when compared with rural Melanesia, generally considered as a depository of overwhelming cultural diversity. Arguably, from this assumption derives the view that, for the urban context to have any culture, it has to be imported from elsewhere.

5 She writes: “migration for women signifies women’s entrance into modernity” (Knot, 2009: 22). 6 The term refers to a person from the same language area as the speaker or referent. However, it can also be used figuratively to indicate a person with whom a relationship is as close as that with someone from the same language area is assumed to be.

23 The perspective of the rural village, in summary, undermines the perception of how much urban migrants value life in town. In contrast, my thesis claims that Kwara’ae people in Honiara do value their life in town and that such commitment is illustrated in a continuous series of acts of valuation and efforts to solve daily value tensions.

2. Thesis in brief

Kwara’ae people’s acts of valuation constitute the main case study material I analyse in this thesis. I present the first set of case studies in chapter 3. After a description of Gilbert

Camp and its population in the second chapter, I argue that in conditions of poverty there is a tension between the value of sharing and the need to make ends meet, and that

Kwara’ae people make efforts to solve such a tension with the use of money and food. One context where they do so is the maket haus, the small canteen in which friends and relatives often buy on credit, thereby menacing the financial stability of these small businesses. The value of generosity (kwaima’anga), which they see as an aspect of their tradition, requires them to sell on credit, but they need to make a profit in order for their businesses to survive. Not to sell on credit would amount to being fangata’a, “selfish like an arai’kwao”

(whiteman) rather than “generous like a ‘good’ Malaitan”. Confronted with such a dilemma, the Kwara’ae have to make use of their social skills and cultural creativity to find viable compromises.

In order to be “good” Malaitan persons in Gilbert Camp, Kwara’ae people rely on each other for food, shelter, and gift-giving is a continuous occurrence in the daily life of the settlement. They say this is their traditional kastom, and are proud to live in this way, which they see as something that defines them. In the peri-urban context, though, they find it more difficult to do that. One reason they recall is that “there are many different

24 colours”, many people from other places. That, it appears, dilutes the ethnically specific density of their interactions. Another, more obvious reason, is that resources are limited and only obtainable with cash. Nevertheless, Kwara’ae people do their best to live according to their kastom. In this way, they seek to transform Gilbert Camp into their fanoa, i.e. their community, or home.

This is a major transformation, because Honiara is by definition the place of difference and foreignness. Such an on-going process of place-making and meaning-making rests upon the tension between the demands of the market, pushing people to keep their resources inside their households, and the imperatives of the extended family, a notion that in Kwara’ae culture blurs with the concept of tribe (traeb).⁠7 Fanoa, traeb, and ‘family’ are three terms in three different languages that Kwara’ae people use on a daily basis, thereby revealing the manifold process of mediation and simultaneous translation to which their acts of valuation are submitted while going through the machinery of domestic moral economy. The importance of such a process indicates that, since it is not possible to reproduce hom in Honiara, the only way forward for the Kwara’ae people is to solve the tensions between contradictory conceptions of “good” and the practical challenges of urban life with a constant effort of cultural creativity.

7 If we use the word ‘tribe’ in the Morganian sense, as a social unit, territorially defined, without necessarily political representation, then this would fit the entirety of Gilbert Camp today. But the term would not be appropriate to describe what Kwara’ae people see as their traeb when they are living in Gilbert Camp, because they do not see territorial unity as a necessary condition. But then, interestingly, when they are in Malaita they look at residential proximity as a constitutive part of a traeb. Indeed, speaking of a woman who left her family after marriage, they say that she is not “close” because she lives with another traeb. Her new traeb shall not necessarily reside far away. In other words, exogamy distances more than distance itself. Indeed, people in Malaita look at those who live in Honiara as part of their traeb, and vice versa.

25 In chapter 4, I investigate another tensed circumstance: the tension between traditional values and the practical contingencies of living on land that Kwara’ae people do not own. They settled in Gilbert Camp according to what most of them see as a legitimate principle: our relatives obtained the right to reside by paying a chupu, a ceremonial offering of foodstuff and valuables, and we inherited such right from them. But the provincial and national governments do not recognize that as legitimate. Also, some of the descendants of those who allegedly received the customary payments do not recognize such payments either, or see them in a different way. As a consequence, there is an on-going debate about landownership between the settlers, the alleged “landowners”, and the government. Each has a different point of view on what land is, whom it belongs to, where its limits are, and how it is to be dealt with, which results in great confusion. People in Gilbert Camp struggle to advance their claims, because there is no political leadership to represent them. Their attempt to solve the tension between contradictory valuations of land moves towards the creation of the moral and material conditions of living for the urban Kwara’ae, but the absence of political leadership and the lack of recognition by the state limits the success of such efforts.

Another context in which the relationship with the state brings about relevant moral negotiations is the tension created between the values of customary law and the national legal system, which I explore in chapter 5. The national constitution recognizes the legitimacy of customary regulations, but does not promote the resolution of local controversies accordingly. Notable exceptions are the major restitution payments organized as part of the pacification processes that followed the so-called Ethnic Tensions (see chapter 2, p.60).

26 In more ordinary situations, Kwara’ae people do not have a venue to solve disputes that involve the discussion of their traditional values. Although some Gilbert Camp residents established a list of By Laws (see Appendix G), the absence of unanimously recognized political leadership and the threat of violence might degenerate in retaliatory killings and damage to properties. Therefore, if they want to claim restitution for taking offence, they have to find ways to organise their own ‘trial’. To do so, they seek the informal assistance of official institutions, such as the National Police Force or the

Magistrate’s Court. Accessing the buildings of these institutions would not be possible within the limits of the legal system, but genealogical connections and the fear of civil unrest induces Solomon Islanders with executive roles to make such venues available, supervise the negotiations between disputants, and make sure they do not escalate into violence. I observed one such situation.

The ethnographic material I collected on that occasion constitutes the main case study I analyse in chapter 5. I illustrate how Kwara’ae people from Gilbert Camp solved a restitution case thanks to the mutual contribution of local chiefs and the police staff. I claim that they perceive what they accomplished as a “successful” restitution according to

Kwara’ae values, and that they did that within the walls of an urban police station (see

Appendix H). In particular, I note that the chiefs and the police officers protected the value of the name of a dead relative and the importance of mutual respect between sisters according to traditional notions of name-calling and “good” sisterhood. Otherwise, the value of a dead relative and the value of sisterhood would not have been safeguarded by the legal system. I think that the fact that Kwara’ae people create the venues in which traditional values can be recognized and protected reveals how much they want to live according to these values in the urban context. Thus, this case study reinforces my

27 argument that Kwara’ae people try to create the conditions for their values to be realized in the urban context, even if that requires some form of adaptation, modification, and compromise.

Finally, in the sixth chapter I look at the ways in which Pentecostalism plays a role in such processes of adaptation. I claim that the Gospel of Prosperity influences the ways in which Kwara’ae people think of monetary accumulation by introducing the category of

‘converted person’ as a person who makes money. This is perhaps the major difference between the Pentecostal message and other forms of Christianity: it provides a set of ideas about money generation and accumulation that coheres with that of conversion, holiness and salvation. In this way, it addresses one major problem the Kwara’ae people confront in

Honiara, namely the moral dimension of economic advancement. On the basis of the

Pentecostal message, the Kwara’ae people put strategies in place, particularly economic strategies, to become what they perceive as “good” persons according to this new notion, i.e. persons that are responsible for their finances.

However, Pentecostalism is also understood according to the terms in which

Kwara’ae people conceive of the person. In particular, the domestic configuration created by the opposition between male and female roles filters the reception of the message and morphs it into gender-specific pathways of conversion. Although Pentecostalism provides

Kwara’ae people with a framework to realize their life project of monetary accumulation, such a framework is resilient enough to accommodate their cultural values of manhood and womanhood. A foundational aspect of their embracing the Gospel of Prosperity, thus, consists of the negotiations between husband and wife about the “good” way to manage their domestic moral economy.

This is, in brief, the argument of my thesis.

28 3. Methodology

I collected the material analysed in this thesis during 13 months of fieldwork. When I first arrived in Honiara, I was hosted by Gordon, a Kwara’ae man I had been in touch with. He was a friend of a friend of a friend. When he and his wife Helen generously welcomed me in their tin-roofed timber house, they immediately called me “son”. Accordingly, I stored my stuff and, after a delicious dinner of tapioca and steamed tuna, I slept my first night in the “Boys Lodge” (see Plate 1.1) with my three “brothers” and a young man they usually called “uncle” (ankol).

Once I gained access to Gilbert Camp, I used the participant observation method to document daily household activities, works, as well as public ceremonies. I constantly sought to expand my network from one household to another. I selected 7 households on which I concentrated my attention (see Appendix A). Five were Pentecostal households, one was an Anglican household, and one was attending the South Seas Evangelical Church

(SSEC). Among the Pentecostal households, one was inhabited by a family of Northern

Malaitans and a Kwaio man, another by a couple formed by a man from To’abaita and a woman from Guadalcanal. All the others were Kwara’ae households. I had planned such a selection in an attempt to get a grasp of the cultural and religious differences between these households. Also, this was the strategy I used to periodically de-familiarise myself from the context and refresh my attention to cultural and religious traits that I would have otherwise got used to as time went by. I lived with each family at different times of my sojourn, attended church services with them, and accompanied them on their trips back to Malaita.

According to the methodological agenda of the DME Project, my initial task was to collect indigenous statements about the importance of love, care and respect among relatives in order to investigate kinship relations and corresponding economic behaviour.

29 That involved the redaction of a sort of ‘list of dos and don’ts’ that Kwara’ae people refer to as ’auabu’ā (literally, to make abu). It was not always easy to distinguish between moral imperatives derived from Malaitan tradition and those inspired by the influence of

Christianity. However, most Kwara’ae people are actually engaged in doing exactly the opposite, namely finding commonalities between kastom and Christianity as a way to legitimise their coexistence and joint application in everyday life.

The collection of kinship terms of address and reference, as well as of other ways of calling, first involved a listing of kinship terminologies (see Appendix B). Then, I distinguished between pragmatics and semantics of kinship terms in Kwara’ae, urban

Pidgin, and rural Pidgin, and sought to associate specific notions of value to each term. I also collected material concerning the ways in which each category of kin is expected to behave with other kin categories (see Appendix C), which extended my list of ‘dos and don’ts’.8

I recorded many acts of valuation, such as transactions of food and money, gifts, donations, tithing, fundraising, settling of disputes, compensations, and selective allocations of resources (see Appendix D). Collecting transactions consisted of observing the circulation of objects among people, contextualizing such circulation within broad networks of relationships, interviewing the involved parties regarding their rationales for giving and receiving, and analysing all this in relation to Kwara’ae ’auabu’ā .

8 Perhaps I should specify that at no point I took such a list of prescriptions as an accurate description of Kwara’ae sociality. Much to the contrary, I have always considered such principles as idealized elements of kastom and Christianity that Kwara’ae people express in statements with social purposes. Even though one particular principle (say, brother-sister avoidance) might have some measure of truth, that does not mean that everyone would just condemn a breach of it or be single- minded about its application. As mentioned above, all cultures have contradictions and Kwara’ae culture makes no exception.

30 I interspersed long periods of participant observation with innumerable interviews.

I collected personal life trajectories, with a focus on economic prospects, life cycle rituals such as marriages and funerals, and valued moments such as religious re-births. I also collected oral histories and reconstructed much of the history of Gilbert Camp on that basis. Where possible, I crosschecked elements of such oral versions with journal articles and other published literature (see chapter 2).

Interviews were essentially of three kinds. Firstly, I made use of a standardized, open-ended interview template prepared by the Principal Investigator of the DME Project, duly translated in Solomon Islands Pidgin (see Appendix E). This approach facilitated the collection of a relatively large data set of standardised material that could easily be analysed for the comparative purposes of the DME Project. Secondly, I worked most of the time on the basis of interviews of the semi-structured kind. I usually agreed a general area of interest with the interviewee, and directed the conversation accordingly. More informal interviews in the most diverse social situations (ranging from after-feast nocturnal discussions to early morning chats waiting for the sky to clear up) were also fundamental for the creation of my database.

On the basis of a constant crosscheck between information gathered during interviews and daily observations, I tried to identify local conceptions of time and space. In conversation with my informants, I worked out topographic maps with valued spaces and locations (see Map 2.7), as well as tables that summarize how people belonging to various gender and age groups allocate their time during an average week. This is the kind of material that, among the data I collected during my fieldwork, stands on the threshold between qualitative and quantitative.

31 As for the quantitative aspect of my data collection, I conducted a survey (see

Appendix F) concerning aspects such as adult, young, and infant population, ethno- linguistic and religious distribution, clan presence, percentage of ethno-linguistically endogamous and exogamous households, year of settlement, number of people who undertook more than one religious conversion during their lifetime, who cultivate a garden, who attended some kind of education, their average salary, and other quantifiable material of this kind. This kind of data provides the context to the case studies analysed in this thesis, especially in the second, third, and sixth chapter.

Collecting this kind of material was by no means easy. When I first attempted to complete a survey, in the early stages of my fieldwork, people simply did not answer my questions. Although I had introduced myself at Sunday church services and I had been spending time with my new friends for more than a month, that was not enough to grant me the trust of the Gilbert Camp population. Perhaps they were afraid I was some sort of surveyor from the Ministry of Land commissioned to count, locate, and report all illegal squatters? I decided to wait. Although this decision kept my mind full of unanswered questions for almost one year, when I tried again people were not suspicious or reticent any more. They knew I was the ‘white man of Gilbert Camp’. They were welcoming me with a open-hearted cry, such as “Oh, Rodney!”, or “Hello Roots!”, or “Come here, Ruby!”, and other ways in which they twisted my name. Laughing about these alterations, we were immediately surrounded by a comfortable atmosphere of familiarity. They were happy to answer all my questions, sometimes over a hot drink, so that what had begun as a collection of quantitative data often turned out to be another opportunity for more interviews and participant observation. There is only one group of people that I did not manage to include in my survey, namely seven families of Jehovah’s Witnesses who concentrated in a cluster

32 of households in an area of Gilbert Camp encircled by a small stream. Even a year after my arrival, they all considered me a stranger; God knows why.

Finally, I collected material in the Archive of the Anglican Church of Melanesia, the

National Library, the Ministry of Land, Housing and Survey, the National Statistics Office, in Clive Moore’s historical archive on the history Solomon Islands at the University of

Queensland, and the Pacific Manuscripts Bureau at the Australian National University.

Furthermore, I visited about 40 Pentecostal churches in Honiara, collected church regulations and songbooks, and compiled a list of basic information such as location, year of construction, and church attendance (see Appendix I).

It goes without saying that there was no way in which I could meaningfully embrace the totality and diversity of this wealth of material and concentrate it into a doctoral thesis.

Thus, I had to make a thoughtful selection of what I wanted to include and what to exclude. I considered several options for organizing my material into a readable ethnography. Eventually, I decided to concentrate on the case studies summarized in the second section of this chapter. I briefly explain how I came to this decision.

Benjamin Burt, who conducted research with the Kwara’ae for more than thirty years, admitted that most, if not all, of them would not have the necessary education to read his PhD thesis with ease (1994a: 180). I do agree with him that ethnographies should be written in a way that is accessible to most of the people who provided the original information. With this, I do not intend to reinvent the wheel. In fact, Burt himself maintained: “many anthropologists recognise a responsibility to do something in return for the privilege of researching someone else’s culture. From the other side of the relationship, this is likely to be seen more as an obligation to give something in exchange, at least under the cultural morality of the peoples of Malaita” (Ibid.). In addition to applying to the

33 Australian High Commission to fund the construction of water tanks in Gilbert Camp, I wanted to follow this principle in my writing style, as a form of reciprocation. In return for the opportunity to learn about the culture of the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp, I wanted to write my ethnography in a way that mirrors the Kwara’ae process of teaching

(fa’amanata’anga).

That was obviously impossible, given the requirements of a PhD programme in

Social Anthropology. Thus, I had to look for a viable compromise between the language, literature review, and reasoning expected from a doctoral thesis in Social Anthropology and the teachings of a Kwara’ae gwaung’i, a person with the reputation of being knowledgeable of key cultural values (Gegeo & Gegeo, 2009: 11).

Kwara’ae people juxtapose their notion of fa’amanata’anga, seen as informal and based on direct experience, to what they see as the formal and mediated “Western education”. One notable aspect that justifies such opposition in their view is the alleged absence of direct experience in the teaching of the arai’kwao. “The Whiteman learns in schools, we learn from real life, and from our fathers and mothers”, they say. Thus, one of the most difficult aspects of finding a compromise consisted of the apparent incompatibility between what they term the “formal” and “informal” release of information. Such incompatibility resonates with the difference between the idiographic details of direct experience and the nomothetic aspirations of the deeply theoretical debates in the discipline.

My personal attempt to overcome these incompatibilities was to write in a way that reproduces my own experience of learning about the culture of the Kwara’ae people of

Gilbert Camp, and traces the progress of my reasoning towards abstract ideas on a few themes, which is more or less what happened as I progressed throughout my PhD

34 programme. Therefore, in each chapter I make use of fragments from my own field diary, trying to set my position within the narration. Then, I report numerous “cases” in order to anchor the subsequent discussion to concrete events and real characters. Finally, I try to proceed inductively towards the abstraction of ideas and see if these can coherently interact with the relevant literature.

Presenting the material in a way that is analogous to learning about a culture in the field has been termed the Inductive Case Study Approach (Spindler & Spindler, 1990). This approach proposes that the process of abstraction begins as soon as the description of the case ends, and proceeds slowly towards more definite and precise conceptualizations of the experience. But the process is never completed, which is a common feature between my own way of learning about the Kwara’ae culture and the concept of fa’amanata’anga (Gegeo

& Gegeo, 1992). The impossibility of achieving completely accurate cultural knowledge inheres the use itself of the case study as a heuristic device. Case studies, indeed, are generally seen as a poor basis for generalisation (Mitchell, 2006). There is an inherent risk of assuming a case to be representative of a general socio-cultural process, when it might be otherwise. That is why I always tried to compare the outcomes of my analysis with a set of key theoretical propositions drawn from the relevant literature.

However, I have not done that for each and every case I present. Indeed, some of my cases are not necessarily meant to be relevant for theoretical discussion. Some are purely configurative and idiographic, according to the classification developed by Harry

Eckstein (Eckstein, 1975). In other words, they only provide a mere concatenation of relevant circumstances and shall not be considered part and parcel of nomothetic reasoning. Others are “Disciplined Case Studies”, in that they serve as particular illustrations of well-known cultural processes. Others are “Heuristic Case Studies”, because

35 they support a particular theory, without necessarily constituting major evidence. Finally, I deal in depth with four case studies that belong to the category of “Crucial Case”, because they are meant to epitomize the main argument in point while providing room for interpretation and comparison with other similar cases.

Table 1.1 Case studies classified according to Gluckman and Eckstein

Case study Classification according to

Gluckman Eckstein

3.1 Clement has many jobs Apt illustration Configurative-Idiographic 3.2 Matthew and Stephen Social situation Disciplined-Configured 3.3 Gordon and Anna Extended case Configurative-Idiographic 3.4 Ralph the taxi driver Apt Illustration Configurative-Idiographic 3.5 Rose’s Odyssey Extended case Heuristic 3.6 Sikret Fren Social situation Crucial case 3.7 Geoffrey and kaon Extended case Heuristic 4.1 The land meeting Social situation Crucial case 4.2 Many who sought land Apt illustration Disciplined-Configured 4.3 James and the workshop Social situation Configurative-Idiographic 5.1 The restitution case Extended case Crucial case 5.2 Manasseh and his children Apt illustration Disciplined-Configured 5.3 Henry and his mother Apt illustration Disciplined-Configured 5.4 Lipson and his brother Apt illustration Disciplined-Configured 6.1 “My wife converted me” Apt illustration Heuristic 6.2 “I am in debt to myself” Apt illustration Heuristic 6.3 Domestic sale Apt illustration Crucial case

36 In the table above, I classify my case studies according to Eckstein’s classification

(Ibid.), in order to indicate what I use them for. In the other column, I order each case according to Max Gluckman’s definitions, i.e. in terms of its heuristic complexity rather than methodological purpose (Gluckman, 1961).

For Gluckman, a case is an “apt illustration” when it illustrates a relatively simple happening, limited in time and space. A “social situation”, then, is a more complex set of interconnected events through which it is possible to explain some general principles.

Finally, the “extended case study” is an even more complex set of interconnected events over a long time span, in which social relationships are rearranged.

Further to the ‘Inductive Case Study Approach’, there is another methodological reason why I decided to concentrate on a set of case studies. Each case study presents real people acting socially, i.e. the kind of material that anthropologist David Graeber considers foundational to his theory of value as the importance of social action (Graeber, 2001).

Although I consider Graeber’s theory of value to be limited in some respects, it is nevertheless useful as a tool to look at the values of the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp as something that does not pre-exist its making. In the next chapter, I introduce a more specific formulation of what kind of values I concentrate on, namely hom values, and the conceptual tool I use to capture them, namely ‘hom-making practices’. In the last chapter, then, I illustrate my criticism of Graeber’s theory of value, as well as one way to palliate to what I see as its limitations.

Having mentioned my criticism of other anthropologists, I should acknowledge some of the limits of my own work, if only to spare others the task of uncovering them.

One limit of my thesis is the absence of sections entirely dedicated to kinship, marriage, and the ways in which Solomon Islanders in Honiara manage interpersonal

37 relationships in a context of overwhelming cultural diversity. I am aware that kinship and marriage constitute dimensions of life where tensions are likely to emerge. However, as I mentioned above, I chose to concentrate on some aspects at the expenses of other equally important aspects. Berg has already done a good work on cultural diversity in Honiara, as well as on kinship and marriage (Berg, 2000). As for cultural diversity, it has been identified as one major reason behind tensions in town by Jourdan, who wrote: “[t]ensions are even more obvious in a town such as Honiara, where the population comes from all parts of the archipelago” (Jourdan et al., 1996: 39). Although I might have provided alternative interpretation of marriage, kinship, and cultural diversity in town, I eventually decided to concentrate on other issues.

Another limitation of my study lies in my privileging the point of view of Kwara’ae men, rather than women. The bulk of my social life during fieldwork was always with men.

It is with men that I spent most of my time, having conversations over an over-sweetened cup of Coffee-Mix, or on a stroll. That is why I can only claim I approached a grounded understanding of the point of view of Kwara’ae men, rather than women. Nevertheless, throughout my research I made an effort to work with Kwara’ae women too, to the point that I have collected a considerable amount of material about their ideas and practices. I investigated indigenous conceptions of gender, differentiated between male and female kinship orientations (see Appendix B), carried out several interviews with female inhabitants of Gilbert Camp and beyond. On the basis of such material, in this thesis I analyse a ritual entirely organised by women (chapter 3); I examine the conflict between

Guadalcanal men and women over the ownership of land (chapter 4); I interpret notions of right and wrong behaviour between sisters (chapter 5); and explore the importance of

38 gender in shaping religious conversion (chapter 6). Thus, although I mostly worked with men, women are by no means absent from my field notes and my thesis.

This thesis has certainly other limits, but it is now time to get to know the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp.

40 CHAPTER 2

“GILBERT CAMP IS OUR HOM”: THE KWARA’AE PEOPLE OF GILBERT CAMP

Plate 2.1 Boys playing football in Gilbert Camp

“One of our brothers died. I went hom with the dead body, and with my relatives we buried him at hom. But other people prefer to bury their bodies in Honiara.”

Gordon

41 1. From the outside: Geography, history, and demography of Gilbert Camp

In this chapter, I present the site of my ethnographic research, the peri-urban settlement of

Gilbert Camp, as well as its inhabitants. Firstly, in a brief geographical section, I introduce the place. Secondly, I provide some basic historical coordinates in order to contextualize my field site in both space and time. In the third section, I introduce its current inhabitants with a demographic illustration of the area, along with some ethnographic description that adds flesh to the bones of statistical data.

It follows that the questions I intend to address in this chapter are quite elementary, but at the same time fundamental. What is Gilbert Camp? Where is it located? Who were the first settlers? When did they arrive? How has the settlement come into being? How is it changing? What does it look like? Who lives there now? What is the structure of the population? Where did the settlers come from? What kind of migrants are they? How do the settlers themselves see Gilbert Camp?

This last question is crucial; after describing Gilbert Camp from the perspective of geography, history, and demography, in the second part of the chapter I attempt a preliminary answer to this question, one that will be developed throughout the thesis as a whole. My answer is that the Kwara’ae people see Gilbert Camp as a place where they can live according to the values they associate to their homeland, although this requires them to come to terms with a fundamental contradiction. Like people in other Melanesian towns, they have an idealized vision of their rural homeland that they oppose to the reality of urban life, which they see as the epitome of hardship: while hom stands for unity, cooperation, and sameness, Honiara represents diversity, competition, and separation. But this ideology is contradicted by another: hom as a primitive, isolated, and hopeless place versus Honiara as the modern, all-promising, all-fulfilling arrival city. Life in Gilbert Camp

42 is a daily struggle to cope with the push and the pull of these competing values. A resolution to the problem, to the extent that there is one, largely depends on people’s commitment to live a “good” life in town. In contrast, the contradiction cannot be solved as long as it remains at the level of abstract conceptualisations of hom and Honiara. That is why an approach that focuses on the hom-Honiara dichotomy is fundamentally incompatible with one that emphasises commitment to town life: the former largely neglects people’s power to transform the meaning of the place where they live.

1) Geography

The archipelago of the Solomon Islands (see Map 2.1) lies in the South Pacific Ocean between PNG and Vanuatu. It is composed of more than 800 islands, grouped into nine provinces. Each province is usually associated with one larger island, which is covered in rain forests and is where the highest mountains and volcanoes are located. The smaller islands are rather flat and, like the countless tiny atolls, covered in sand and palm trees.

The climate is tropical oceanic, with an extremely high degree of humidity and a day temperature ranging between 25 and 32 degrees Celsius. Both measures are quite constant throughout the year. However, while the cooler period occurs between June and August, the northwest monsoon gives heavy and frequent rainfalls during the wet season

(November to April).

Guadalcanal is the largest island of the archipelago and it is the site of the capital city (see Map 2.2). Originally referred to as Isatabu by the indigenous population, it was renamed in 1568 by Pedro de Ortega Valencia after his hometown Guadalcanal (in

Andalusia, Spain), when his commander, Álvaro de Mendaña y Neira, arrived at its shores.

Map 2.1 Archipelago of Solomon Islands

Map 2.2 Guadalcanal

44 The island is mostly mountainous and covered in dense tropical forests, with the exception of some wide areas of treeless and grassy hills. A mountainous spine known as the Kavo

Range divides this volcanic island in two. On the northern half, in front of the Iron Bottom

Sound, lies the coastal city of Honiara.

Map 2.3 Gilbert Camp and the Honiara Town Boundary

The urban area of Honiara occupies a thin strip of land about 15 km long, between two urban settlements known as White River and Burns Creek (see Map 2.3). The coastal area is low and only extends inland for about 1.6 km of coralline ridges seldom higher than

600 metres. Government buildings and businesses occupy the central area of the town, which is dotted with and surrounded by clusters of ever-expanding settlements of migrants.

Gilbert Camp is one of these settlements. It is situated across the south-easternmost segment of the town boundary. The North-western quarter of the settlement lies within the area administered by the Honiara City Council (HCC), on land that was expropriated from the indigenous tribes of Haubata and Kakau. The other three quarters lie on an area classified as customary land and administered by the Guadalcanal Provincial Government

(GPG).

45 Gilbert Camp merges with the adjacent settlements of Kobito and New Valley to the North, Farm and Mamulele to the West, Windy Valley to the East and O’kwala to the

Southeast (see Map 2.4). Boundaries are not clearly defined, but everyone agrees that

Gilbert Camp begins at the top of an uphill road dividing Farm and Kobito. This is the road that connects the settlement with the crossroad area known as Border Line, which represents the frontier of Honiara and the main port of connection between the settlers and their town life. They are always walking up and down this road, which cuts across Gilbert

Camp and breaks down into many small by-paths sided by ridges of tropical forest.

Proceeding eastward and to the Southeast, these small paths dissolve into the wide and rolling hills of the Guadalcanal plains.

Map 2.4 Aerial view of Gilbert Camp

People say that Gilbert Camp is a “good” location for at least three reasons. One is that the area is quite deeply dissected. At each side of the main road the terrain is uneven and interspersed with inclined zones subject to erosion. This makes the land less appealing for housing projects, urban works, and commercial exploitation. As a consequence, the

46 settlers believe that there is not much risk that government planners and private investors would become interested in the area. Even if the settlers know that they can be evicted from land they do not own or have not registered under their names, they hope the land will remain freely accessible because of its low appeal.

Another reason is the affordability of housing. Housing quality varies a great deal with personal circumstances, ranging from shacks consisting of rural and industrial waste materials, to semi-temporary accommodations with timber structures and tin roofs. Many houses are built on the steep hillsides, which can be very dangerous locations, especially during the rainy season. Slipping is a daily occurrence during and after rain, and the soil is constantly subject to erosion. No house has private toilets and two to five families normally share one cesspool outhouse. Private water facilities are a luxury that virtually nobody can afford. The few water taps are located in common areas in walking distance (see Map 2.7).

Because these are shared by a large number of people, there is often a long cue for the tap, and hygienic conditions are difficult to maintain.

Most settlers prefer to live close to where they work, which is another reason why

Gilbert Camp is considered a “good” location. However, proximity to town is not necessarily a factor in their decision to settle in Gilbert Camp. Certainly, the fact that they can reach their workplace in less than an hour, and that affordable transportation is available in a 5-minute walking distance, increases the practical advantage of commuting.

However, for most settlers proximity to work was a consequence rather than a cause of their settling. As we will see in the next section, their decision to settle was mostly related to genealogical connections to previous settlers. As in the settlements of other Melanesian capitals, “choice of residence is strongly influenced by marriage, chain migration or by knowing someone in the area of residence” (Walsh, 1978: 281).

47 These brief spatial notes may partly explain why Gilbert Camp became a settlement, rather than, say, the site of an agricultural pilot project. Certainly, the fact that land was available and that affordable space was absent in the town area encouraged migrants to search for an accessible place to settle. However, there is much more to say about the features of Gilbert Camp and the reasons behind the settlement of its people, and a historical perspective can provide information to answer the questions in this chapter.

2) History

a. The birth of a Pacific capital

The history of Honiara begins with a battle. In the spring of 1942, the previous capital of the British Solomon Islands Protectorate, Tulagi was bombed by the Japanese air force and subsequently by American retaliatory raids. The Japanese invasion of Tulagi was part of a plan of the Japanese Empire to provide support to its forces advancing on Port Moresby and increase the defence of its base at Rabaul. Such plan included the invasion of

Guadalcanal and the construction of an airfield from which to attack other Pacific islands.

But that area was very important for the Allied forces as well, because it was at the intersection of important supply and communication routes between the United States,

Australia and New Zealand. Therefore, the Allied forces counter-attacked with landings on

Guadalcanal and Tulagi, initiating the first major offensive against the Japanese Empire.

From August 7, 1942, the Guadalcanal coast was the theatre of the battle between the Japanese and the American forces. Some of the heaviest fighting took place in what today is the centre of Honiara. On February 9, 1943, after numerous unsuccessful attempts to regain the area, the Japanese withdrew. That marked the end of the Guadalcanal

48 Campaign. An American base was built at Lunga, to the East of the present town, and

Guadalcanal became a station from which to attack other Japanese bases.

That was also the first time in which a relatively large number of Solomon Islanders left their home villages and settled in this area, which was referred to as Honiara, actually a misnomer of the Ghari1 expression Naho-ni-ara. This means “facing the Ara”, i.e. the place where the southeast winds meet the coast. There, 680 Solomon Islanders fought until the end of the conflict as members of the British Solomon Islands Defence Force alongside the

Americans. Also, about 2,000 Solomon Islanders, the majority of whom were from Malaita, were enlisted to work in the Solomon Islands Labour Corps. They built roads, airfields, and jetties.

When the Americans left, the British Protectorate moved the headquarters to Point

Cruz. Numerous buildings, water and power supplies, and some airstrips were already in place and served as infrastructural foundation for the new town. “Some of the roads are still in use today, carrying the civilian traffic (...), instead of the army trucks, jeeps and weapon carriers for which they were originally built”.2 Traces of the war are still visible today, in the rusty weapons that can be found all around the city and the toponyms of areas where the soldiers camped. That is the case of the New Zealand Camp, where the administration was initially settled, and the case of Gilbert Camp.

Honiara was officially proclaimed the new capital of the British Protectorate of the

Solomon Islands in 1952. However, the bulk of the city was still to come. In 1945 a town plan was prepared in order to provide more housing for the civil servants and improve or

1 See Map 2.5. 2 March, 1965, Information Service, British Solomon Islands Protectorate.

49 replace some government buildings. By the end of the 1940s, Chinese and Europeans settlers had access to leisure facilities and services such as hotels, clubs and cinemas. The population was growing rapidly and by the middle of the 1950s there were 2,500 settlers. As a consequence, the urban area also expanded quickly. The town boundary, originally placed at Kukum, was extended to Burns Creek in 1964.

The expansion of services and businesses reflected the more general growth of the overall population, which started to become a concern by the end of the 1970s. In this regard, Nage wrote:

The effective demand for new housing units had been relatively high in [the 1970s]. (...) Although one target of the National Development Plan 1975-1979 was to reduce the growth rate to 2 percent by the early 1980s, the provisional results of the 1976 census show no move towards that target. (...) As new employment opportunities are created in town, people are attracted to migrate there from rural areas, but other factors, such as the attraction of an urban lifestyle and the expectation of better living conditions certainly play an important role. The number of households increased during the 1970-1976 period by 4.6 percent annually and the number of males by 3.6 percent. (Nage, 1987: 94)

Who were the men who were leaving their homeland and settling in Honiara with such a high rate of growth? How did they look at such a life-changing enterprise? In order to contextualize the phenomenon of internal migration within the overall development of

Honiara it is necessary to briefly look at both pre- and post-contact mobility and the local response to economic changes such as the labour trade and the new economic opportunities.

50 b. Mobility, before and after the labour trade

One could say that the interest the first explorers had for the archipelago is eloquently described in the name they have given it – Islas Salomón (Jack-Hinton 1969: 28-67).

Although the gold mines of King Solomon, which populated the dreams of several generations of navigators, were never found, the appeal of the area persisted during the

British colonial era. The indigenous population usually welcomed the commercial interests of white traders for local resources, particularly tortoiseshells, copra and coconut oil.

Indeed, the desires of the inhabitants for foreign goods, especially iron, firearms and tobacco, were not less compelling than those of the newcomers. Facilitated by such intersection of interests, exploitation of the land through cash crops was introduced and became common from the 1910s. Resources that had once been a major part of the entire population’s wealth were increasingly becoming the saleable commodity of individuals.

Islanders had always been used to trading goods and valuables (see, for example, Oliver,

1955; Einzig, 1949), and soon became interested in the places where new commercial enterprises were concentrating. Then, with the end of the labour trade during the first decade of the twentieth century, the demand for experienced Melanesians rose, as did salaries that on occasions reached £1 per week. Working away from home was becoming increasingly profitable.

However, inter-island mobility is not necessarily a feature that Solomon Islanders developed in response to the changing economic situation. Rather, travels, raids, and migratory movements featured in the pre-contact period (Bennett, 1987: 6-7). As for the

Kwara’ae people, however, that was only to a limited extent. Until the arrival of the first waitman, the Kwara’ae had always lived as farmers of the inland forests, and rarely travelled beyond the territory of their neighbours on the coast (Burt, 1994b).

51 The division between “saltwater” and “bush” people of Malaita is key to understanding the relationship between Malaitan economy and mobility in the pre-contact period. Harold Ross observed that “the salient feature of human ecology in Malaita is the separation between coastal and interior populations” (1973: 72-73). David Roe further explained:

At the simplest level of analysis bush and saltwater groups may be distinguished broadly by the major components of their subsistence production economies. In very general terms bush groups are associated with the production of dryland taro and yams, pig husbandry, and the manipulation and exploitation of upland forest environments. Although hunting and gathering of foodstuff is an important part of these subsistence regimes, bush communities are primarily horticultural. As crop production in tropical forests depends upon a swidden system of agriculture, settlements tend to be relatively mobile. This view of the peoples of island interiors contrasts strongly with that of the saltwater people which portrays them primarily as fisherfolk, although vegetable produce from small coastal gardens forms significant part of the diet. Settlements are relatively long-lived and tend to be larger than those in the bush. (Roe, 2000: 201)

These quotations suggest that both bush and saltwater people tend to move and migrate. Thus, they support the claim that mobility is a constitutive characteristic of the

Malaitan economy as a whole, rather than one that emerged with the introduction of new economic opportunities.

However, no Malaitan had travelled further than those islanders who were recruited as labourers to work in Fiji, Samoa, and New Caledonia. During the 1870s and till the end of the 1890s, the great majority of them were from the coastal areas. Later, this tendency changed and between the 1890s and the 1910s plantation labourers were mainly from the

‘bush’. According to Bennett, there seem to be compelling reasons for that. “Once a coastal

52 population had a reserve of trade goods and was able to draw on more inaccessible groups for additional women, pigs, and other valuables, the imbalance so caused encouraged the inland groups to offer their young men for labor recruiting” (Bennett, 1987: 86). Among other things, local groups encouraged their men to go overseas because the bride prices were rising as a consequence of the engagement of other groups in new economic activities.

In other words, leaving one’s homeland was not just convenient in terms of possible profits. It was becoming increasingly necessary.

Nowadays, some of the most influential and wealthy families in Honiara are descendants of Malaitan labourers in Queensland or Fiji (cf. Corris, 1973; Moore, 1985).

Plantation labourers and their descendants were among the first who migrated to Honiara after the war. However, there are other ways in which the interaction with overseas labour modified Malaitan societies and influenced their subsequent development. For example, women working in gardens became the main producers, as many young men were absent.

On the other hand, young men had become the main suppliers of Western goods, “a new economic role that potentially threatened elders’ authority” (Bennett, 1987: 121). That does not mean that the traditional political economy was necessarily disappearing. Indeed, young

Malaitans were using their Western commodities within the framework of their culture. For example, a Malaitan returner had to offer a portion of his wealth to the elders in order to be readmitted into his clan. He also had a whole new set of problems to solve: he had no gardens to cultivate, nor pigs to offer in marriage transactions. Therefore, he had to exchange his wealth with his fellow islanders in order to regain some of his earlier privileges and status. It follows that the innovations introduced with the new economic possibilities could be incorporated in the local value system through exchange. “Malaitans during this period”, Akin wrote, “displayed remarkable flexibility and creativity both at home and

53 abroad” (Akin, 2013: 8). Like other Melanesian people (Robbins, 2004: 47-49), they made efforts to comprehend the colonial and pre-colonial order in terms of their indigenous categories. Whether or not that is the case with the mass migration to Honiara that took place after the Second World War is part of the overall theme of this thesis and is discussed in chapter 7.

c. Settling in Honiara

In the years of Honiara’s rapid expansion, labour migrants had to find a place to settle. The cost of renting in town was prohibitive for the vast majority of them, and the system of subsidized housing put in place by the Solomon Islands Housing Authority benefitted only

“the wealthiest members of the urban population” (Nage, 1987: 95).

Labour migrants, thus, started to build leaf houses in public areas in the town and on its outskirts. They tended to concentrate in some zones rather than others, following ethno-linguistic affiliation as well as tribal, clanic and familial ties. At the beginning of the

50s, for example, Malaitans from the Lau Lagoon were among the first inhabitants of the

Fishing Village at Kukum. Further West, at the outfall of the Mataniko River, people from the Langalanga Lagoon (on the Western side of central Malaita) initiated another village.

The area known today as White River, at the westernmost part of the town, was originally a

Polynesian settlement, made up especially of people from Tikopia, Sikaiana, Rennell and

Bellona. Later, people from different parts of Malaita also moved there, probably attracted by the water supply, which was abundant compared to other Malaitan settlements.

Today, Malaitan settlements are numerous in the in-land part of the town. Kobito,

Mamulele, Dukwasi, Ferakuisia, Adailiua, Matariu were all pioneered by Malaitans. And so was Gilbert Camp. In the past, the indigenous people of Guadalcanal used to refer to the

54 area as Tavahalo, which means “stream” and indicates the thin river separating Gilbert

Camp from the adjacent settlement of O’kwala. Then, between 1943 and 1944, the Gilbert and Ellice Islands Labour Corps camped there. Although the contingent was composed of

Gilbertese (I-Kiribati) and Ellice Islanders (Tuvaluans), the majority of the soldier-labourers were from Kiribati. They assisted the Allied Forces during the final part of the conflict, and the area was named after them when they left (O’Brien, 2010).

Map 2.5 Ethno-linguistic regions of Guadalcanal3

3 Source: Tryon & Hackman 1983.

55 The first migrant who settled in Gilbert Camp, numerous oral accounts agree, was a man from East Kwara’ae named Benjamin Ko’oru’u.4 That happened at some point between 1949 and 1952. At that time, he was in charge of the Ilu Farm project, which was situated on the right side of the road that today leads to Gilbert Camp from the Borderline.

The project was meant to verify the quality of the ground for agriculture and cattle.

Benjamin planted trees and crops for many years. The area looked very fertile. Nowadays,

Gilbert Camp is famous for being the place where the best cassava grows.5 Indeed, market sellers advertise “Cassava from Gilbert Camp” as an epitome of good quality.

The crops that Benjamin was able to produce were repeatedly offered to a man named Barnabas O’ai, one of the chiefs of the Kakau tribe from the Tandai area of North- western Guadalcanal (see Map 2.5). Another chief of the Kakau tribe was Vuvulo. Vuvulo and Barnabas took care of the area, in agreement with other chiefs of the Haubata tribe, like Chualu and Puru. There were also other important men who had authority over the territory, but time has erased their names from local memory.

It appears that between Barnabas and Benjamin some agreements were made, as a way to regulate the use of the land. Several accounts concur that Benjamin gave some of his produce to Barnabas in exchange for land. Some specify that the offerings were not intended to be a payment for the land, which indeed was never officially sold. Some say that the food was only a token of appreciation for the generosity that Barnabas was showing as he allowed Benjamin to settle and cultivate the land. These, however, are all statements made retrospectively, in the awareness of the current interests around land.

4 cf. Kwa’ioloa and Burt, 2013: 199. 5 cf. Ibid.: 68.

56 The second man who settled in Gilbert Camp was Jacob Lomani, from West

Kwara’ae. In 1962 Jacob’s son was sick and the doctor who visited him in Auki (Malaita) suggested sending the boy to the National Referral Hospital. Following this advice, Jacob, his wife and the child travelled to Honiara. Since Jacob and Benjamin had married two sisters from Kilusakwalo (West Kwara’ae) their kastom required that they regarded each other as ‘sata’. The term can be translated with the English ‘namesake’. Two sata look at each other “as if they were one single person”, and their relationship is meant to be very strong. Benjamin visited Jacob at the hospital, and by way of courtesy proposed that the man should stay at his place. He eagerly accepted, and the family sojourned in Gilbert

Camp for a while. They liked the location, and Jacob realized the opportunities offered by the urban context. So, he decided to settle there with his wife and son.

Some say that Barnabas did not necessarily approve Jacob’s decision because, although Benjamin had an agreement with the chiefs of the Kakau tribe, the same did not hold for Jacob and his family. However, from that moment on, more and more relatives kept arriving, settling, bearing new children, and starting new lives. In 1967, two classificatory sons of Jacob completed their education in Malaita and went to Honiara, looking for jobs. They were accommodated by their ma’a (father; see Appendix B), who in the meanwhile had built his own house, kitchen, and “Boys Lodge”. The trend continued over the years and many other relatives continued to arrive and find accommodation among those who had settled before. However, at that time, the rate of migration and settlement in Gilbert Camp was still very low. Few houses were built, and the small population was entirely made up of people from Kwara’ae, mainly from the eastern part.

The small river, the aforementioned tavahalo, was still very clean, and settlers were using it to drink, bathe, wash their clothes, and to catch prawns and eels, which were abundant.

57 As late as 1969, only one church building was present, an Anglican leaf house that had been built by a Kwara’ae man named I’uduia. Later, a Kwara’ae man named Sam built a

Seventh-day-Adventist (SDA) church. Gideon, the son of one of Jacob’s sisters, built the first SSEC church in 1976. In these three cases, they were always family churches: very small buildings made of timber with a palm-leaf roof, and attended by few members. In the meantime, the living standards of the settlers started to improve. A small number of semi- temporary houses began to appear, rainwater tanks supplied water directly to these buildings, some settlers were even able to connect to electricity, and some even to the telephone line. People were starting to feel that they had found a viable alternative to their rural life.

Plate 2.2 Gilbert Camp after the fire, September 13th, 19776

6 Source: “Eight houses destroyed by fire”. News Drums, 16th September, 1977, p. 2-3.

58 Tragically, at the end of the 1970s a fire spread from one of the new buildings and left nearly 50 people homeless. Searching the highly disorganized archives of the Solomon

Star newspaper, I was lucky enough to find an article relating to this event (Ibid.). I was therefore able to date it to Tuesday 13th of September, 1977, and verify that at the time 10 houses had been built in Gilbert Camp. After the fire was tamed, only 2 were left untouched. The SSEC church area divided the two main groups of buildings, and this space protected the lucky ones from the tongues of fire that the wind had spread westward.

When the fire started, the majority of the settlers were working – women in the gardens and the men in town. When they came back, most of the village had already been burnt.

The Honiara branch of the Red Cross, jointly with the Dorcas Welfare Community of the

SDA church, provided shelter for the victims and built a few new houses.

d. The second beginning of Gilbert Camp

The reconstruction began immediately. Men travelled to Visale, in West Guadalcanal, to cut timber for a week or two, and started to build new houses. In the following years, the living standards of the settlers benefitted from many improvements. A bridge was built at the bottom of the hill and the road was improved and extended. After some years, Jacob

Lomani replaced Ko’oru’u as the leader of the settlement. Ko’oru’u had become unable to lead because of the amputation of one of his legs, which followed a badly treated infection.

During the time of his leadership, Jacob cut down a lot of trees and cleared more land to increase the space for horticultural gardening. Today, he is remembered as a man of strict rules, who did his best to enforce regulation in the hope of benefitting the growing community. He insisted that those who had a job in town bought food for those who were unemployed. The latter, in turn, were expected to work in the gardens.

59 Improvements, however, were taking place amidst problems and difficulties of various kinds, such as the lack of proper water supply, uncontrolled access to electricity, road disruptions, random disposal of rubbish, and increasing demographic pressure. Then, the indigenous population of Guadalcanal began to voice their concerns about the unregulated occupation of land, but did not receive much attention from the national government. As a consequence, their frustration mounted and some migrant households were forced to leave under the threat of violence.

In addition, floods occurred on a regular basis, destroying the horticultural gardens and the newly-built houses. Dave Hart, a missionary who lived and worked in Gilbert

Camp, wrote a detailed description of a violent rainstorm that hit the settlement on

November 2, 1993, and the flood that inundated it as a result. “Many people lost their gardens and especially the potato crops. They were either washed away completely or so covered with mud that they couldn’t be salvaged” (Hart, 2008: 376), his diary reads.

Some improvements in the area were the results of the efforts made by Charles and

Rebecca Danforth, an American couple of Anglican missionaries. Their mission was to establish the first free eye clinic in Solomon Islands. After an initial success, the project was unsustainable and the “Ethnic Tensions” ultimately forced its closure.

“Ethnic tensions” is the label commonly used to refer to the set of events that took place in Solomon Islands between 1998 and 2003. Some 20,000 non-Guadalcanese (mostly

Malaitan) settlers escaped from Guadalcanal under the threat of Guadalcanese paramilitary groups, in particular the Guadalcanal Revolutionary Army (GRA), later renamed the

Isatabu Freedom Movement (IFM). Another paramilitary group was formed in opposition to it, the Malaita Eagle Force (MEF). Although the militarization of men and youth constituted the most dangerous threat for the population, the removal of a legitimate

60 government in 2000 and the intervention of the Australian-led Regional Assistance Mission to Solomon Islands (RAMSI) in July 2003 are considered the two crucial events (Moore,

2004).

The causes of the conflict are many and complex. Dinnen (2003) wrote that

Guadalcanese people largely perceived Malaitan settlers as invaders prospering at their expense. The unregulated access to land resulted in continuous disputes, and the different descent system (patrilineal in Malaita, matrilineal in Guadalcanal) has been seen as one possible source of conflict (Carlin, 2004). However, Fraenkel (2004) observed that the IFM was not simply inspired by an anti-Malaitan sentiment. It was also the expression of a

Guadalcanese concern regarding land boundaries, the exploitation of land, and the overall land policy (see chapter 4).

Jolene Marie Stritecky, who conducted ethnographic research in Gilbert Camp for

13 months in 1998-99, described the life there as follows:

Gilbert Camp was never an excessively crowded place on the whole, nor was it dirty or dilapidated. Certainly, the place was alive with families, groups of uniformed school children, chickens, dogs, cats, cars, and a few three-ton trucks. Folks went about their daily business, with expectable levels of daily noise. Mothers and wives occasionally complained that their houses were over-crowded at mealtimes and at night, but shortages of food and shelter were much less severe than in neighborhoods in Honiara town, where gardens are almost non-existent and houses small and decaying. (Stritecky, 2001: 76)

Stritecky was also there at the beginning of the tensions, when the settlers started to hear rumours about Guadalcanal people organizing a paramilitary group with the intention of evicting them.

61 During the month of May and first weeks of June 1999, frightening rumors of GRA/IFM kidnappings and killings of Malaitan settlers compounded, along with stories of house burnings and armed car-jackings. These rumors were inevitably followed with stories about Malaitan revenge missions of similar order [...]. By the end of May, rumor was in full circulation that a militia of several thousand men had formed in Malaita, and was ready to descend upon the GRA/IFM, laying villages to waste around the entire coast of Guadalcanal. Young men and boys in Gilbert Camp and neighboring Kobito built roadblocks and began to “check” -and often simply harass- motorists entering and leaving the settlements. At the inland-most reaches of Gilbert Camp, men posted all-night security watches, and devised a system of warning gongs to awaken residents from anxious sleep at any sign of encroaching IFM militants.

This heightened state of anxiety and sleep deprivation, coupled with rumors of poisoned water supplies, persisted for a couple of weeks. When the IFM attacked a particular settlement, its residents would flee to the bush, return in the morning for a few belongings, and stream into Honiara as refugees. As attacks on other settlements continued, and as displaced settlers filled emergency Red Cross tents at the sports complex, Gilbert Camp’s population-life steadily drained away. But when local news and unofficial eye-witnesses confirmed systematic IFM plans to “sweep” Malaitan settlements from west of Honiara to plantations to the east, remaining Gilbert Camp residents packed their belongings and headed to relatives and wantoks in Honiara to spend their nights in more secure environs. After a few tired, cramped, and anxious weeks in town, families would find space on an over- burdened ship bound for Malaita. (Stritecky, 2001: 113-114)

It was when a group of Malaitans broke into the armoury of the Rove Police station that Jacob Lomani decided to dismantle the houses he owned and go back to Malaita. He advised everyone in Gilbert Camp to do the same, contending that, according to their kastom, they had to leave if the people of Guadalcanal did not want them to stay. Others say that Lomani was just afraid of being killed by the Guadalcanal militia. In any case, many

62 considered him as an early settler and a chief, and decided to do as he said. Those who could afford it, dismantled their houses and loaded them on a truck, transported them to the wharf, and shipped them to Malaita. Once they arrived, they loaded the parts onto other trucks and re-built their accommodation in their village.

Gilbert Camp was deserted. Stritecky described the situation as follows:

A week after the evacuation, I went back to Gilbert Camp to retrieve a few belongings. The settlement sat empty and silent. No women peeling cassava in their kitchens, no young girls washing at the public taps. No old men sitting at the roadside selling betel nut, no young boys scraping coconut. No families en route to or from their gardens in the hills, no children shouting after me. The thud of a hammer boarding up the last store demanded unusual attention in the silence. (Stritecky, 2001: 77)

However, not everyone had left. Some, offended because of the killing of a relative, decided to stay and joined the MEF. Some were afraid of losing their jobs and, rather than resigning and leaving, remained at the risk of their lives. Many joined one of the local patrolling groups, which gave themselves names such as ‘Tiger’, ‘Lion’ or ‘Eagle’. They were supported by those who remained to work, who bought food and cooked for them.

In exchange, the groups guarded the hills around the settlement, ready to protect the remaining inhabitants in the event of an assault. However, it appears that neither killings nor fire attacks took place in Gilbert Camp, although today rumours circulate about a massive and mysterious cavity were many bodies have allegedly been buried (cf. Kwa’ioloa

& Burt, 2013: 216).

Today, people in Gilbert Camp say they had reached “good” standards of living before the Ethnic Tensions. Partly as a consequence of this, more and more migrants kept coming, following their relatives and fascinated by dreams of prosperity. Many were finding

63 employment, which meant that they could help both their fellow settlers and their relatives back in Malaita. Hopes were unanimous that their living conditions were going to improve.

Before the Tensions escalated in December 1998, they were unaware that they were soon going to lose, once again, everything they had built.

14 12 10 8 6

of Households 4

° 2 N 1970 1975 1980 1983 1984 1985 1986 1987 1990 1991 1992 1993 1994 1995 1996 1997 1998 1999 2000 2001 2003 2004 2005 2006 2008 2009 2010 2011 0 2007 2012

Year of Settlement

Owned House Rented House

Figure 2.1 Number of households settled over time

e. Gilbert Camp today

After the end of the Ethnic Tensions, in 2003, most people who had left Gilbert Camp decided to come back. Some of those who had shipped their entire houses to Malaita, chose to ship them back. Others built new ones. People came in larger numbers than before (see Fig. 2.1).7 They came not only from Malaita, but also from other provinces (see

Table 2.1). Areas that were previously covered in tropical forest were occupied by a new wave of migrants. The magnitude of this new wave was measured in an unpublished report that I accessed in the Ministry of Land. The document reported that between 2003 and

2006 “there has been a 26% average annual increase with some zones experiencing higher

7 That reinforces the relevance of one of the main questions addressed in this thesis: why do people keep migrating even if “Honiara is hard?”

64 percentage growth rates than others”. Gilbert Camp is one of those areas, as evidenced in the census that I conducted towards the end of my fieldwork (see Appendix F). While only

8% of the houses were built before the 1990s, and about 22% between 1990 and 2003, an astonishing 70% are less than a decade old. The number of rented accommodations has also been growing steadily in recent years (see Fig. 2.1).

Table 2.1 District of origin of migrant households to Gilbert Camp

District 1970-90 1990-03 2003-12 Total %

Kwara’ae 12 21 45 78 57 Baegu 1 7 8 5 Lau 1 7 8 5 ‘Are’are 4 5 4 Sa’a 1 4 5 4 Western 1 4 5 4 Fataleka 1 3 4 3 To’abaita 1 3 4 3 Kwaio 3 3 2 Langalanga 3 3 2 Makira 3 3 2 Baelelea 2 2 2 Guadalcanal 2 2 2 Isabel 2 2 2 Choiseul 1 1 1 Central 1 1 1 1 PNG 1 1 1 Total 12 29 94 135 100 % 8 22 70 100

The history of Gilbert Camp is therefore one of subsequent contractions and expansions. It began in the 1970s with the unobtrusive settlement of a Kwara’ae couple and grew slowly to form a group of about 10 interconnected households. Then, the 1977 fire reduced this small settlement to a couple of houses. Nevertheless, the surviving

65 neighbourhood grew steadily and became a village in the span of two decades.

Subsequently, during the Ethnic Tensions, Gilbert Camp was deserted and its houses dismantled. But the settlement was destined to rise from its ashes once again. After about a decade since the progressive repopulation of the area, Gilbert Camp became one of the main areas of residence on the outskirts of Honiara.

3) Demography

a. Rough numbers

In Gilbert Camp, approximately 3.084 individuals (including children) currently inhabit about 468 households (including rented houses). A household is indicated by a residential unit consisting of one building (temporary, semi-temporary or permanent), although most residential units include also one separate kitchen and one lodge where either female or male young relatives sleep together. Population density is about 6,000/km2, far above the national average (19/km2) and more than double the capital city (2,900/km2). Unlike the time in which Stritecky was doing research (1998), Gilbert Camp is now a rather overcrowded place to live.

These figures, however, are constantly changing. Mobility is high in the settlement, with people coming in just to attend a course of study (see Table 2.2) or to do a short-term job in Honiara, and leave after a month or two. Even those who had been settled for many years continue to move between the settlement and their village of origin, or among different settlements in Honiara. The number of houses is also subject to continuous changes. New houses are constantly being built, and existing houses are extended, or dismantled to re-use the materials. In brief, Gilbert Camp is never fixed, but constantly changing.

66 On average, six to seven people live in an ordinary household, although I found houses inhabited by a single person and a house inhabited by a family of 24. By ‘living’, I do not necessarily imply that the inhabitants have their own rooms, belongings, or beds. It is common to share property, and so it would not be appropriate to define one’s residence as the localization of property or private spaces. Rather, people in Gilbert Camp see residence as indicated by the amount of time that a person spends in a particular area, how well that area is known to her/him, and how well he or she is known in the area.

Table 2.2 Type of education of people in Gilbert Camp

Type of education № %

No state education 315 36 Primary 304 34 Secondary 234 26 Tertiary 36 4

Total 889 100

Usually, between three and four children live in each household, although a few houses have no children and some up to 17 children. Children move, eat, sleep and spend time in a number of different households. Where they pass most of their time and what they do generally depends on their age. For example, a 12-year-old girl might eat breakfast and dinner in the house of her father, spend most of her daytime in the house of her mother’s sister in order to help with the housekeeping, and sleep in the house of the neighbours because they have a room for their young female relatives to sleep. In her father’s house, instead, there is only one room where young men sleep.

Children are often classificatory sons and daughters who move to Honiara in order to attend a form of education that might not be available in the provinces. Other relatively

67 distant relatives who do likewise are the young sons of brothers and sisters of the head of the household or his wife, who come to Honiara to attend higher education or find a job. It is very common in any household to have at least one to two relatives with a one-degree kinship distance, but I found households where this number reached 15.

b. Ethno-linguistic diversity

Gilbert Camp is largely a Malaitan settlement (see Fig. 2.2). The majority of its population was born in Malaita province or has a Malaitan background (82%). People from other provinces, especially Western Province, Central Province, and Makira, make up the remaining 18% along with a few migrants from PNG. Among the people sharing Malaitan origins, most identify with the Kwara’ae ethno-linguistic category (72%), the largest in

Solomon Islands.8 The rest identify with one of the ethno-linguistic categories from Malaita province (see Map 2.6).

Figure 2.2 Ethno-linguistic affiliation of Gilbert Camp households

8 According to a 1999 publication of the Summer Institute of Linguistics, more than 32,000 Kwara’ae people live in Solomon Islands.

Map 2.6 Ethno-linguistic regions of Malaita9

Almost half of the Gilbert Camp households are ethno-linguistically exogamous

(43%). This is consistent with the findings of the 2013 People’s Survey, which found equal balance of couples from the same and different provinces in Honiara as a whole. Kwara’ae people, however, tend to be rather ethno-linguistically endogamous (79% of the entire

Kwara’ae population), and so are their households (see Table 2.3).

The ethno-linguistic variety of Gilbert Camp mirrors the ethno-linguistic variety that characterizes the nation as a whole. Depending on the different linguistic classification, between 60 and 85 idioms are currently spoken in Solomon Islands by culturally distinctive

9 Source: Keesing, 1975.

69 Table 2.3 Ethno-linguistically endogamous and exogamous households in Gilbert Camp

Household type № %

Endogamous Kwara’ae 63 47 Baegu 5 4 Lau 3 2 ‘Are‘are 2 1 Choiseul 1 1 Guadalcanal 1 1 Sa’a 1 1 Endogamous as a whole 76 57

Exogamous Kwara’ae-Lau 5 5 Kwara’ae-Fataleka 4 4 Kwara’ae-Makira 3 3 Kwara’ae-Sa’a 3 3 Kwara’ae-Baegu 2 1 Kwara’ae-Guadalcanal 2 1 Kwara’ae-Isabel 2 1 Kwara’ae-Ngela 2 1 Kwara’ae-To’abaita 2 1 Kwara’ae-Vella Lavella 2 1 Kwara’ae-‘Are‘are 1 1 Kwara’ae-Kwaio 1 1 Kwara’ae-Langalanga 1 1 Kwara’ae-PNG 1 1 Kwara’ae-Ulawa 1 1 Kwara’ae-Western 1 1 Baegu-Guadalcanal 1 1 Lau-‘Are‘are 1 1 Lau-Guadalcanal 1 1 Lau-Shortland 1 1 Lau-Sikaiana 1 1 Kwaio-To’abaita 3 3 Fataleka-Guadalcanal 2 1 Langalanga-Makira 1 1 ‘Are‘are-Makira 1 1 ‘Are‘are-Sa’a 1 1 Alu-Buin 1 1 Others 10 10 Exogamous as a whole 57 43

Total 133 100

70 groups. 10 Each group is different, in terms of language, area of residence, customs, institutions, currencies, among others. In Gilbert Camp there are people who were born into one of these groups, but for a variety of reasons, identify with more than one group.

Ethno-linguistic variety is not the only aspect that complicates the demography of this settlement. Christians of all churches reside in Gilbert Camp. Such variety mirrors the origins of the settlers, as much as, at the national level,

the location and sequence of early missionary arrivals is still reflected in the provincial distribution of denominations. For example, the majority of the inhabitants of Choiseul belong to the United Church, while the majority of inhabitants of Temotu, Central Province and Isabel belong to the Church of Melanesia. (Ernst, 2006: 174)

Map 2.7 Topography of Gilbert Camp

10 The actual number of languages varies depending on the source. Tryon and Hackman (1983) counted 7O languages and/or dialects. Earlier sources cite up to 90.

71 Similarly, people who migrated from the same area tend to attend the same church in

Gilbert Camp. It follows that, being it a mainly Malaitan settlement, the majority of its inhabitants attend the two churches with the highest percentages of attendants in Malaita.

There, the two churches with the highest attendance are the Anglican Church of Melanesia

(ACOM) and the South Seas Evangelical Church (SSEC), and the same is true about

Gilbert Camp, where respectively 32% and 30% of the population attends these churches.

Among other denominations attended by the settlers there are the Roman Catholic

Church (RCC), SDA, United Church (UC), Jehovah’s Witnesses (JW), and 5 different

Pentecostal churches (see Map 2.7). Although the attendance of each of the latter does not exceed 5%, if grouped together, all the Pentecostal churches become more statistically important. With 14% of the population attending them, they become the third major form of Christianity in Gilbert Camp (see Fig. 2.3), even more statistically important than the

RCC, which was the first form of Christianity to reach Solomon Islands.11

The growing importance of Pentecostalism in Solomon Islands is one of the reasons why I decided to study this relatively new phenomenon. The first Pentecostal mission in

Solomon Islands was probably in 1971, initiated by a Fijian couple of the Assemblies Of

God (AOG) (Ernst, 2006: 189). In the absence of a rigorous study of the steady growth that ensued, the 1970s is conventionally believed to be the historical period in which

Pentecostal Christianity began to spread in the archipelago (cf. McDougall, 2008: 4).

11 The first Christian missionaries arrived in Solomon Islands in 1845, when a team of French Marists tried to establish a mission station in Santa Isabel. Their attempt was brief and ultimately fruitless, as disease and attacks by hostile islanders resulted in a compromising loss of missionary staff. Two years later, in the same year in which the Catholic mission temporarily closed, Bishop George Augustus Selwyn embarked on opening the first mission of the Anglican Church. Today the ACOM is numerically the largest denomination in the archipelago, followed by the RCC.

Figure 2.3 Religious affiliation in Gilbert Camp households

My informants describe the 1970s as a “revival season”, in which the classic feature of Pentecostal Christianity (glossolalia, interpretation of glossolalic prophecies, falling on the ground, shaking, healings, miracles of various kinds, visions, voices, and the like) began to appear. The “second round of the revival” took place towards the end of the 1980s.

Religious leaders who converted to Pentecostal Christianity during the 1970s and

1980s lead indigenous Pentecostal churches today. Among the attendants to this relatively new type of churches, there is a growing number from Gilbert Camp.

2. From the inside: Gilbert Camp in the eyes of the Kwara’ae people

After attempting to answer, with the data presented above, some of the questions I listed in the introduction, I am still confronted with the question, what is Gilbert Camp? The answer seems to depend largely on the point of view of who is looking at it. Most citizens in Honiara consider Gilbert Camp to be a squatter settlement because, according to

Clinard’s definition (Clinard, 1966), most of the settlers within the town boundary occupy land illegally, whereas most of those who live outside of it do so without an agreement recognized by the “landowner”. Gilbert Camp is not a slum, because the settlers generally

73 build and own the house they occupy, and because they transformed the area into an unauthorized peri-urban village, whereas slums tend to be areas that are legally occupied by low-income dwellers, most often renting houses that were built by someone else, usually someone from a higher socio-economic condition (Walsh, 1978: 44-45).

The semantic spectrum of terms relating to these forms of dwellings is vast, and researchers have often extended it without necessarily increasing its terminological precision. Frequently, it is to avoid the disparaging connotation of terms such as shantytown, marginal area, or uncontrolled settlement that other terms are chosen, such as spontaneous, informal, or unauthorized. However, I chose not to use the term “squatter” not only because I intend to avoid such judgemental nuances myself. I do so because the settlement does include people who regularized their position in terms of national or customary law. It would not be fair to call them ‘squatters’. Also, it would not do justice to those who, as I explain in chapter 4, settled in the belief that they had the legitimate right to access the area. Using the term ‘squatter’ would necessarily imply that the separation between legal and illegal was clearly drawn during the time in which the settlement came into being. Because I intend to contest such assumption in the fourth chapter, I chose to use the term ‘spontaneous settlement’, rather than squatter settlement.12

Notwithstanding such a choice, it is necessary to engage with the literature on squatting in order to explore what Gilbert Camp is and how it came into being. We have seen that it all started with a visit paid by a Malaitan man to a relative. That, however, was part of a more general process of mass migration to Honiara. We have also seen that the

12 The term “spontaneous settlement” was used by Nigel Oram (1976: 243) to describe the 1970s migrant settlements in Port Moresby.

74 demand for housing grew after the end of the Second World War, and that the absence of a proper response by the state might explain the mushrooming of urban and peri-urban settlements.13 That would be in accord with one stream of development studies that sees squatting as essentially a response to the absence or unaffordability of houses (J. Turner,

1972; Mangin, 1967).

But that explanation would only account for the immediate consequences of the initial mass migration, rather than including its causes within a larger range of factors leading to the formation of settlements. Other studies do not see squatting as the result of a housing problem. Rather, they tend to explain it by connecting several factors, such as the absence of national planning, pre-existing socio-economic imbalances that might have influenced the growth of economic disparities,14 and the unequal distribution of resources and investments that is inherent in many processes of urbanisation, especially in poor countries (McGee, 1964; Friedmann and Wulff, 1975).

The combination of geographical, historical, and demographic data seems to suggest that a similar combination of factors led to the formation of Gilbert Camp. As we have seen, Malaitan people were historically familiar with the idea of travelling to seek economic opportunities, and therefore readily relocated when new opportunities arose in Gilbert

Camp. The spatial position of Gilbert Camp served well the purpose of settlers to take advantage of these economic opportunities. Kwara’ae people were also favoured by the proximity of the Kwara’ae district with the wharf of Auki (see Map 2.1), where ships to and

13 Repič hypothesized that a similar process might have played a role in the formation of “squatter settlements” in Port Moresby (Repič, 2011: 77). 14 Berg suggested, “the British Protectorate may have left behind an implicit hierarchy which today manifests itself in the composition of the urban elite” (Berg, 2000: 193).

75 from Honiara have been operating for decades. However, these very material reasons shall not rule out the importance of Kwara’ae ideas about urban life.

Ultimately, it is on the basis of such ideas that they took their decision to leave, settle in Honiara, and construct their identity as migrants. Nowadays, these are the chief references that they use to illustrate the rationale that motivated their choice to migrate.15

Ideas, stories, and images of what was happening across the sea influenced their attitudes towards life in town, which they began to see as something they wanted to engage with (cf.

M. Strathern, 1975: 53-58). They sought the opportunity to take part in it, and Gilbert

Camp provided them with a “good” location to begin with.

That does not necessarily mean that Gilbert Camp became hom for them. Indeed, most Kwara’ae migrants who left their homeland and settled in Gilbert Camp describe that as a temporary condition. Rather than referring to Gilbert Camp as their final destination, most imagine their future within the classic scheme of circular migration (Chapman and

Prothero, 1985). Some, especially older migrants, say that they want to go back hom because that is where they belong. Men in their thirties tend to say that going back would be desirable, but not something one can do overnight. “For those who live at hom, I am like a stranger”, Thompson once told me. “I do not have a house, a garden, pigs, I do not have anything there. That is why I cannot go back”. Others say the same thing, but do not put it as if it was a waiver. Roswell, for example, said straight away, “This is our hom, now”.

15 Strathern, in her seminal study of Hagen migrants in Port Moresby, sought to understand the rationale behind their migration. In so doing, she was not so much concerned with economic and sociological factors influencing migration. Rather, she concentrated on Hegeners’ own attitudes towards migration and wage-employment. That is because she was convinced that economic and sociological factors influence migration only as long as they are mediated through widely shared values. (Strathern, 1975: 15-58).

76 Be it because they think they want to stay, because they think they have to, or because they want to leave later, Gilbert Camp is their current dwelling place. 16 They do not use the term ‘squatter settlement’ unless they are trying to investigate the conceptions and, especially, the intentions of their interlocutor, be him an anthropologist or a government official. They call the settlement their fanoa, their “community”, and by that they mean a place they are trying to belong to. But that is far from easy, for Gilbert Camp is a settlement on the threshold of Honiara not only in terms of geographical location, but also in terms of its linkages with both the urban and rural context. The concept of an

‘arrival city’, coined by journalist Doug Saunders, captures these features:

The arrival city can be readily distinguished from other urban neighbourhoods, not only by its rural-immigrant population, its improvised appearance and ever- changing nature, but also by the constant linkages it makes, from every street and every house and every workplace, in two directions. It is linked in a lasting and intensive way to its originating villages, constantly sending people and money and knowledge back and forth, making possible the next wave of migrations from the village, facilitating with the village the care of older generations and the education of younger ones, financing the improvement of the village. And it is linked in important and deeply engaged ways to the established city. Its political institutions, business relationships, social networks and transactions are all footholds intended to give new village arrivals a purchase, however fragile, on the edge of the larger society, and to give them a place to push themselves, and their children, further into the centre, into acceptability, into connectedness. (Saunders, 2010: 11)

16 Since 2006, the RAMSI Peoples’ Surveys shows that the number of Honiara residents who see Honiara settlements as their home has been growing. In 2013 the percentage reached almost 97% (RAMSI, 2013: 20).

77 Connected by, and to a certain extent trapped into, these linkages, the people of

Gilbert Camp are constantly involved in negotiations between the values of the city and those of their village of origin. When they live in Gilbert Camp, even if it is only for a limited time span, they mediate between contradictory values to make it a “good” place to live, and by “good” they mean something that goes far beyond the mere availability of resources, the proximity to their workplace, the presence of facilities, and relatively free access to land. Their notion of good is informed by their kastom, understood both as tradition as well as contemporary ideas based, or perceived to be based, on that tradition and negotiated in the urban context. That does not mean that they just want to reproduce their hom in Honiara. Rather, they are creating a new hom that is not there yet, and yet, “in a sense, already there” (Graeber, 2001: 77). Therefore the question is not, what is Gilbert

Camp? The question becomes, what do the Kwara’ae people want it to be?

They draw on their customary ideas as chief references to imagine a urban ‘home’, which is a feature that has been identified in other anthropological studies of urban settlements.17 Like urban migrants in other Melanesian capitals, Kwara’ae people in Gilbert

Camp idealize their rural origins and their homeland, and contrast these with their urban life and space. It is through the framework of these ideal types that they figure what kind of place is a “good” place to live in.

Table 2.4 summarizes some of these oppositions. Even a quick skimming through this table suggests one major contradiction, already mentioned above: if Kwara’ae people dislike Honiara to such an extent, why do they keep coming? My answer is that there is something that they value in Honiara, namely the “good” life they want to live there. In the

17 See, for example, Cohen 1969; Strathern 1975; Goddard 2005.

78 following chapters I attempt to corroborate this answer by investigating the ways in which

Kwara’ae people make efforts to realize their hom values in Honiara through “home-making practices” (Blunt and Dowling, 2006: 23) that result in what Repič has called “appropriation of urban space” (Repič, 2011: 74). The hom-Honiara dichotomy, thus, has no other purpose than that of giving a meaning to such efforts.

Table 2.4 Indigenous statements about hom and Honiara

hom Honiara

“We don’t use money” “You need money for everything” “We know everybody” “A lot of ‘different’ people” “It’s the place we belong to” “It’s the place where we work” “The food is good” “The food is bad” “We own the land” “We do not own the land” “Everybody is the same” “There are a lot of mixed colours” “If I take your food, we share” “If I take your food, I steal” “We live following our culture” “We follow the way of white man” “We know our culture” “We forget our culture” “We speak Kwara’ae” “We mix Pidgin and Kwara’ae” “It is the land of our ancestors” “It is not the land of our ancestors” “Young people respect the elders” “There is no respect for the elders” “We have our chiefs” “We don’t know our chiefs” “We are a community” “We are related, but not really” “We eat kumara” “We eat kassava” “One village, one church” “Many different religions” “People do not make noise” “People make a lot of noise”

One of the main differences between hom and Honiara lies in the ethno-linguistic heterogeneity of the urban population, as opposed to the highly homogenous Kwara’ae district, where everyone is linguistically and genealogically connected to a certain extent.

79 Different degrees of heterogeneity and homogeneity in Gilbert Camp make it a cluster of interactions (cf. Gupta & Ferguson, 1992) that requires what Berg has termed “managing difference” (Berg, 2000). Being surrounded by “different colours”, by people they do not know or trust, as well as threatening figures such as raskol (criminals), masta liu,18 or man blo taun (a man from downtown) is less reassuring than living among wantok, not only because the Kwara’ae people think they can expect “good” relationships with these. Wantokism is also a social strategy to organise their life according to their new identity in the city.

Financial assistance, moral support, and a place to sleep are only some of the benefits that result from being included into a network of wantoks (Goddard 2005: 13).

This is common to other Melanesian urban contexts. Marilyn Strathern argued that

Hagen migrants in Port Moresby value this kind of support as part of what Hagener identity means for them (M. Strathern, 1975: 289). Similarly, in the next chapter, I argue that it is this kind of support that makes it possible for the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert

Camp to live in what they consider to be a fanoa. They overcome social estrangement through acts of giving that concretise the value of relatedness. In this way, they are attempting to make Gilbert Camp closer to the idea of hom as a place where “we know everybody”. It follows that acts of giving such as those analysed in the next chapter are hom- making practices to the extent that they concretise through action what hom is in theory.

In chapters 4, 5 and 6, I look at other aspects of reality in which Kwara’ae people make hom. It is through such an on-going process that they are constructing Gilbert Camp for what it is in their eyes. Looking in depth into these everyday hom-making practices

18 The term masta liu refers to the urban man who has no job and relies only on his relatives (cf. Kushel, Takiika, & ‘Angiki, 2006: 219). The expression unites the pidgin term for ‘master’ and the Malaitan word for “walking”, suggesting the idea of a person who is a master only of his own stroll.

80 opens up new possibilities to understand why they come to Honiara even if they express such negative views about it. In this sense, rather than answering the question concerning what is Gilbert Camp, this chapter shows that the question shall be posed in a different way: “what do Kwara’ae people do to express what they want Gilbert Camp to be?” I will attempt to answer this question in the following chapters by looking at a series of case studies in which Kwara’ae values, particularly hom values, are concretised in social actions

(Graeber, 2001), especially hom-making practices.

‘Hom-making practices’ is a conceptual tool that I use in order to overcome a few methodological difficulties and account for the processual nature of hom. One of the main methodological problems is that of defining hom. As we have seen, hom can have as many meanings as there are people who talk about it, and these meanings can change over the course of people’s lives. Therefore, coming up with a definition of hom would obfuscate such diversity rather than embrace it. Furthermore, people normally make use of the term for social rather than academic purposes. It follows that decontextualizing their statements and taking them as sufficient evidence of what hom means would be at least inaccurate.

While a search for a definition (of what home is) would have stopped my investigation before even starting, I operationalize the investigation with a focus on how hom is made.

That is why I concentrate on hom-making practices as the social actions that create a sense of homeliness as a property of everyday life. There are several analytical advantages in using this concept. First, it allows an investigation of the multiple meanings of hom depending on the making, rather than postulating that there can only be one hom. Secondly, it avoids the assumption that each and every person naturally belongs to a homeland (Glick

Wimmer and Schiller, 2002: 324). In contrast, the concept of hom-making practices accounts for the possibility that hom might not pre-exist the person (cf. Ahmed 2003: 8).

81 Thirdly, it avoids idealisation of a romanticised hom borrowed from the past, as much as ideas of hom that are cherished by hopes in the future, and focuses on the making of hom in the present. Fourthly, it concentrates on daily negotiations across different scales, such as the self (see chapter 6), the household (see chapter 3 and 6), the neighbourhood (see chapter 3 and 5), the city, and the nation (see chapter 4; cf. Datta and Brickell, 2012:10).

Finally, my aim in concentrating on hom-making practices is to critically examine the assumption that hom is the one-and-for-all idea defining the ways Kwara’ae migrants would like to live. Ideas of hom certainly influence their daily attempts to lead a “good” life. But subsuming these daily negotiations within the idea of hom, rather than the practice of hom- making, would result in depicting migrants as an expression of an isomorphic, organic, and natural relation with a conflation of their culture, territory, and society (Rapport & Dawson,

1998: 4). Such intellectual choice implicitly correlates identity with place of origin, thereby assuming that people are “out of place”19 when they are not there, and that they must be interested in reproducing their home culture as such, whereas they might be equally interested in a different kind of home. Why would they have left, if it was not so?

My intent is not to deny the relevance of ideas and practices that connect migrants to their homeland, but rather to emphasise the difference between the idea of hom, which they express in their dichotomic statements, and the practical engagement in making hom.

Rather than working with a definition of hom that is “fixed prior to its making” (Buhr, 2013:

22), I interpret hom as a process undertaken through the meaningful selection of different values, values which begin to exist as soon as they are concretised through day-to-day

19 Kraemer (2013: 3) writes that second generation migrant youth in Port Vila, Vanuatu, describe themselves as “unplaced” and respond to such condition with “practices of place-making”.

82 commitment to life in town. The measure of such commitment depends largely on the practical challenges that realising such values imply, the tensions that Kwara’ae people experience by consequence, and the efforts they make to overcome such tensions.

The contradiction between the values of hom and the values of Honiara as they are expressed in the verbal statements classified in Table 2.4 does not account for the concrete tensions between these values, nor for the efforts Kwara’ae people make to cope with these tensions. Indeed, it is through practice and experience of place, rather than from the identification with a real or ideal place of origin, that oceanic “ethnotheory” seems to be grounded (Linnekin and Poyer 1990: 8-9). Rather than in abstract contradictions, thus, tensions emerge in concrete social situations such as those I present in the following chapters, which illustrate the efforts Kwara’ae people make to create a hom, and account for the value they give to their life in town. Creating a hom consists of infusing a territory with meaning through the negotiations of such values.20 As Akhil Gupta and James Ferguson wrote: “cultural territorialisation must be understood as complex and contingent results of ongoing historical and political processes. It is these processes, rather than pre-given cultural-territorial entities, that require anthropological study” (1997: 4). My description, analysis, and interpretation of a few case studies show the extent to which, from the point of view of the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp, Gilbert Camp is their “hom, now”, i.e. a place ascribed with a new cultural identity.

20 Anthropologists of Melanesia often distinguish between a territory that is not imbued with social significance (lan, land, or graon, ground) and one that is given meaning through social interaction (ples, place) (see Rodman, 1987: 35; Bolton, 2003: 71; Mondragon, 2004: 8, Bonnemaison, 1985: 60).

84 CHAPTER 3

“LIVING A GOOD LIFE”: 1 THE ECONOMY OF GILBERT CAMP

Plate 3.1 Young Kwara’ae girl behind the bars of a store, handing a SBD$ 2 note

“At home there is no money, in Honiara there is a lot of it.” 2

Clement

1 S.I. Pidgin: “Livim insaet lo gud laif”. 2 S.I. Pidgin: “No slein lo hom, staka lo Honiara” (cf. Kwa’ioloa & Burt, 2013: 135).

85 1. Domestic moral economy and the tension between autonomy and relatedness

In the previous chapter we have seen that the opposition between hom and Honiara constitutes a contradiction as long as the two categories of values are considered in the abstract. In this chapter, I begin to analyse the concrete social situations in which the hardship of everyday life on the outskirts of Honiara is countered with efforts to make such life “good”. This raises a question that will take the rest of the thesis to answer, namely, how to live a “good” life? When Kwara’ae people describe a “good” life they always mention one or more of the following elements: food, money, social relations, shelter, respect for their abu code, and the important role of Christianity. In this chapter I deal with the quest for food, money, and “good” social relations, whereas each of the other three aspects will be the subject of the subsequent chapters.

Between the production of food and money and the maintenance of “good” social relations lies a fundamental contradiction. Kwara’ae people believe that each household should be economically autonomous: householders must produce their own food and money and shall not rely on resources produced by members of other households.

However, to live a life they call “good” they must also create and maintain “good” social relationships with the members of their community, which depends largely upon the circulation of resources such as food and money. Hence, a “good” life requires a certain extent of mutual dependence between autonomous households.

On the basis of the value of autonomy, households attain their subsistence in two ways. Firstly, the people of Gilbert Camp cultivate horticultural gardens and, secondly, they engage in all sorts of income-generating activities, ranging from a paid job in town to baking and selling cakes along the streets of the settlement. I deal with both in the second part of this chapter.

86 The resources that they manage to generate in these two ways are shared within the household. On the basis of the principle of self-reliance, householders help each other with their different skills. The mutual dependence between these individuals, however, connects the household with other households, because of the interaction of each individual with other householders that are outside of the supposedly autonomous household, and on whom they depend to a certain extent. The picture of a set of interconnected households begins to appear at this point. And yet people would never say that their household is not autonomous. It appears that, rather than a series of either autonomous or related households, each household is negotiating a tension between the value of autonomy and the value of relatedness.3

In the third part of the chapter, I explore such a concept of relatedness in relation to the circulation of resources. Kwara’ae people create and maintain “good” social relationships largely as a result of transactions of food and money that are accomplished through sharing, selling on credit, and sending gifts to people living in the Kwara’ae district.

However, sometimes it is hard to perform these transactions because of lack of resources.

Finding a balance between economic necessity and the values of kastom (cf. Foster, 2005:

210; Browne & Milgram, 2009) constitutes a great challenge for the Kwara’ae people of

Gilbert Camp. In order to make their economic necessities compatible with their moral values, they use their productive energy, their knowledge of Kwara’ae kastom, and their creativity. My argument is that their efforts to harmonise Kwara’ae values and economic necessity reveal their commitment to transform Gilbert Camp into a place where they can live a “good” life.

3 This opposition between autonomy and relatedness resonates with Myers’ ideas (1991: 22).

87 In order to explore the issues of this chapter, the perspective from which I look at the economy of Gilbert Camp is that of the domestic moral economy (Peterson & Taylor,

2003). So, before moving to the analysis of my research material, it is necessary to introduce this concept and specify which particular formulation of it I will use.

In the eighteenth century, the term “moral economy” was used to refer to morally acceptable economic relationships between people (Blizard, 1796; Bell, 1807). Later, the social historian Edward Palmer Thompson (1971) used the term to explain the eighteenth century English food riots as originating in morally unacceptable economic behaviours. At that time, Thompson argues, market economy triumphed on the moral economy of provision. Although he admitted that people maintained traditional economic practices and ideas about what is a “good” way of producing, consuming, distributing and exchanging, he saw the market as becoming pervasive and destroying any morality, except for self-interest.

However, it has been historically proven that this has not happened. For example, the economist turned anthropologist Chris Gregory observed that the introduction of market economy in PNG has not destroyed indigenous values. In some contexts, it has even provided the conditions for some of these values to flourish (see Gregory, 1982).

That historical phase surprised scholars who long believed money to be the destroyer of subsistence economies (see Bohannan, 1959). The efflorescence in non-market monetary activities for the maintenance of kin-relations called for new ethnographic studies of such unexpected response to the penetration of market economy. That was after the anthropologist and political scientist James Scott brought the term moral economy into anthropological literature with his book on “The Moral Economy of the Peasant: Rebellion and Subsistence in Southeast Asia” (1976).

88 The anthropologists Nicolas Peterson and John Taylor (2003) engaged with the concept of moral economy by adding the adjective ‘domestic’. In order to shed light on a significant economic change that was taking place among Indigenous Australians (who started to invest their resources in the household, rather than outside it), Peterson and

Taylor proposed a model to account for the centrality of sharing with kin. They were using the concept of moral economy in a different way from Thompson. Rather than a model suitable to study the English crowd, they needed an intellectual tool to capture the point of view of Indigenous Australians. In particular, they needed a concept to account for changes occurring in the ethic of generosity of Indigenous Australians in reaction to changes in their material circumstances.

It goes without saying that these approaches are very different from each other.

However, there is a sense in which Thompson’s approach, Scott’s approach and Peterson and Taylor’s approach are rather similar: they all distanced themselves from economistic approaches in order to understand their particular context of study. Rather than the economic impact of rising prices of grain and bread, Thompson considered “the eighteenth-century English collier who claps his hand spasmodically upon his stomach”

(Thompson, 1971: 78) as a reaction to the moral dimension of those material changes.

Scott, in using the term moral economy to explain the ethic of subsistence of Southeast

Asian peasants confronting the need to protect their families and assure their own basic survival, wrote that “[t]he problem of exploitation and rebellion is […] not just a problem of calories and income but is a question of peasant conceptions of social justice, of rights and obligations, of reciprocity” (J. Scott, 1977: vii). Both intellectual choices are very similar to Peterson and Taylor’s choice not to concentrate on merely economic elements to analyse the changes in the economy of Indigenous Australians. What assimilates these approaches,

89 in brief, is that they can all be considered as re-editions of the substantivist opposition to the formalist position (Wilk & Cliggett, 2009).

That does not mean that they are not significantly different in some respects. The difference between Thompson’s moral economy and the concept of domestic moral economy is essentially due to their different contexts of application. Peterson, during a conversation about how he came to the current formulation of domestic moral economy, drew the following distinction: “[Thompson] was working in a class society. I am working in a non-class society” (Peterson, personal communication).4 Looking at the moral economy of Indigenous Australians required him to take the perspective of the household, rather than that of class, because the impact of market economy had to be investigated in relation to their life trajectories, which are generally kin-oriented. So, rather than from the point of view of political economy, the moral economy of Indigenous Australians had to be looked at from the domestic perspective. The same rationale applies to the investigation of the influence of market economy in Gilbert Camp. Furthermore, Thompson did not use the term moral economy “to cover the allocation of resources to the reproduction of social relationships at the cost of profit maximisation and obvious immediate personal benefit”

(Peterson & Taylor, 2003: 106). The concept of domestic moral economy, rather, was designed precisely to understand alternative allocation of resources outside the category of market-oriented behaviours.

In this sense, the concept of domestic moral economy is particularly suitable to study economy in a Melanesian context, where competitive gift giving has been recognized as a common pattern of behaviour (see Gregory, 1982: 51). In addition, it is interesting to note

4 Australian National University, Canberra, 7 September 2012.

90 that Thompson challenged previous economic understandings of food riots through reference to anthropological studies of exchange and moral obligation in Melanesia. The fact that the concept was initially formulated on the basis of ethnographic studies of

Melanesia suggests that it can pertinently be applied to a Melanesian context.

2. Household autonomy: subsistence and self-reliance

Kwara’ae morality prescribes that each household should produce the resources for its own subsistence, and not rely on other households. However, although no regular contributions come from other relatives or related households, nor are they expected, some food and presents do sometimes enter the household as a consequence of connections with local churches or visiting relatives. These are essentially seen as occasional concretions of the value of relatedness, rather than regular assets. It follows that these contributions are not considered part of subsistence.

1) Subsistence

As mentioned above, an important aspect of a “good” life for the Kwara’ae of Gilbert

Camp consists of food and material goods. One way in which they put food on the table is to cultivate a horticultural garden, whereas it is necessary to have a paid job, or other income-generating activity, in order to produce money and pay for commercial goods.

a. Horticulture

In Gilbert Camp, about 80% of the settlers cultivate a horticultural garden. There are two main systems of cultivation: the slash-and-burn system and slash-and-mulch system. The former consists of clearing the cultivation site, including trees, and burning the vegetation.

91 Settlers associate this system to Malaitan culture, as opposed to the slash-and-mulch system, considered to be typical of Guadalcanal. This system does not imply the use of fire. Instead, the area is cleared out, leaving most of the trees, and then covered with vegetation that is firstly cut and then randomly spread.

Typically, people cultivate cassava,5 sweet potato,6 and yam.7 As for the greens, those that are usually cultivated include slippery cabbage,8 sweet fern,9 and yard-long beans.10

Plate 3.2 The horticultural gardens

5 Kw.: kaibia; S.I. Pidgin: kasava; sc. name, manihot esculenta. 6 Kw.: kumara; S.I. Pidgin: kumara; sc. name, dioscorea esculenta. 7 Kw.: ‘afā; S.I. Pidgin: yam; sc. name: dioscorea alata. 8 Kw.: ba’era; S.I. Pidgin: kabis; sc. name: abelmoschus manihot. 9 Kw.: tàkuma sisìmia; S.I. Pidgin: kasume; sc. name: diplazium esculentum. 10 Kw.: bini fuana rada; S.I. Pidgin: snake bean; sc. name: vigna unguiculata, sesquipedalis.

92 Plants also stand for metonyms of place and “symbols of identity” (cf. Muke &

Gonno 2002: 79): cassava is associated with Guadalcanal, sweet potato with Malaita. The food that results from their cultivation bears some important significance in “the maintenance of the identity of […] migrants who have left their “homeland” behind” (D.

Sutton, 2001: 17). On the one hand, they miss the Malaitan foods and recipes, and the affective elements attached to them. On the other hand, they incorporate cassava in their daily diet, thereby making it a constitutive aspect of their current identity.

Settlers who own the house where they live tend to cultivate a garden more often

(84%) than those who rent accommodation (63%). That seems to suggest that in order to cultivate a garden, settlers prefer or need to be living in relatively stable conditions.11 Also, renters need to work to pay their rent, and might just not have enough time to cultivate. In both cases, however, vegetable production is not only used for home consumption, but also for sale. Those cultivators who turn into market sellers usually avoid intermediaries in order to secure higher returns (cf. Kastom Gaden Association, 2005; Genova, 2010).

Indeed, cultivation can also be an income-generating activity.

No 16% No 37%

Yes Yes 84% 63%

Live in own house Live in rented house

Figure 3.1 Percentage of households cultivating a garden

11 That bears some implication for the subject of the next chapter, namely the security of land tenure.

93 The area of land where most gardens are cultivated lies outside Gilbert Camp.

Gardens can be reached by walking eastward for about 15-20 minutes. They begin to appear on both sides of the path and become increasingly frequent and dense. The inexperienced eye of the external observer can easily recognize their presence on the surrounding hills and ridges. It is harder, though, to realize you are walking into a garden if you do not know of its existence.

In a similar way, it is hard to tell where the garden of one family ends and that of another begins. In Malaita, it was common to see a pole or a signpost marking the plot area.

This custom has not been imported in Gilbert Camp, arguably because no one feels confident enough to indicate as ‘private’ an area of land whose ownership is contested.12

However, the absence of clear signs marking the boundaries between gardens seems not to be a problem for the settlers. “I only need to know where our garden is”, Jacob once said.

In that way, he meant, he knew that all the other gardens did not belong to his family, which was as much as he needed to know in order to avoid cultivating land where other people would eventually harvest, and also the risk of being accused of stealing, should he harvest the crops of another family by mistake.

Such set of norms, however, does not protect the crops from the thieves that sometimes venture into the garden areas during dark, moonless nights. When a garden is depredated, the family is in big trouble because it is deprived of its basic staple, a problem that can only be resolved with expensive solutions such as bread, flour, or vegetables bought from vendors (possibly the same vegetables that were stolen the night before).

12 Again, security of land tenure emerges as a value with important practical implications. I will explore the tensions concerning this subject in the next chapter.

94 Cultivation is everybody’s business. However, there is a clear division of labour that dates back to ancient times. Clearing the land area and hoeing the ground is “a job for men”, since it is perceived to be too hard for the relatively “weak body” of a woman.

Women, thus, are responsible for tending and harvesting. This task can sometimes be delegated to children and teenagers if their mother is busy. It is very uncommon for a woman who is fit to work in the garden to be unemployed. So children and teenagers are often responsible for cultivation. On some rare occasions, though, even their father can be in charge of digging out some last-minute cassava.

Horticulture is most commonly a way of generating livelihoods for household subsistence, although the produce can also be sold in urban markets. However, since most settlers do cultivate a garden, the demand for horticultural products is limited. As a consequence, income-generating activities of other sorts are very common in Gilbert Camp.

b. Making money

Besides a paid job in town, income-generating activities in Gilbert Camp range from selling the produce of gardens, as mentioned above, to baking cakes, to printing labels on t-shirts.

The average income that the members of one typical household manage to generate is

1,225 Solomon Islands Dollars (SBD) fortnight (about £ 108). Considering that 3 adults and 4 children live in an ordinary household, it follows that each person has slightly more than one pound a day to survive. Those who can rely on a paid job and a piece of land to cultivate are relatively well off. In contrast, those who only have their job are ultimately dependent on the market for their subsistence. It is not surprising, therefore, that their entire lives pivot around the difficult task of generating an income, nor that this relatively small amount of money is entirely spent to survive.

95 As far as paid jobs in town are concerned, Gilbert Camp constitutes one of the most important districts of urban workforce. Every morning, when the sun rises, the road connecting Gilbert Camp and the Border Line bus stop is filled with people walking up and down. Those walking westward, sometimes rushing, are men and women whose work starts at around 8 a.m. They are teachers, carpenters, haosgele (housemaids) and market sellers who will stay in town till late afternoon. Most will come back between 5 and 6 p.m., i.e. when those who work during the night shift will be walking towards the bus stop. Usually, these are policemen, security guards, and longshoremen. They are the same night workers one can see in the morning rush. They can easily be distinguished, because they are the only ones walking homeward, i.e. eastward.

When people in Gilbert Camp are not busy with their paid jobs in town, or when they are just unemployed, they engage in all sorts of other activities that are fundamental for the subsistence of their households. Women, for example, have to cook, wash dishes, and clean the house. Men can do some house repairs, e.g. fix a hole in the wall. But they can also relax on their hammock, and play cards with friends and neighbours. However, many commit themselves to income-generating activities. Clement, for example, works in the early morning as a pastor for one of the local SSEC churches, as a clerk in the afternoon, and in the evening he takes care of his poultry, piggery, and a small store he built in front of his house.

Tom, to take another example, regularly receives commissions from schools and churches to print labels on T-shirts. There are several printing services in town, but Tom’s prices are extremely competitive: he does not pay taxes, nor does he pay collaborators. He does not spend much on materials either, as most of his tools are homemade. The final product might not be perfect, but it will do. Tom is also a teacher at the Naha Elementary

96 School. He works from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. He always gets the commission for the annual football tournament of the school, when more than 150 T-shirts are needed. When he is not busy with his work and T-shirt prints, he takes care of a store he built in front of his house, like Clement.

Plate 3.3 Clement, Betty and their son Joshua preparing doughnuts

The store, or maket haus, is probably the most common income-generating activity in Gilbert Camp. From the point of view of the settler, this is the easiest way to make a profit with relatively little labour. So easy, that stores have been mushrooming all over the place during the last decade. Along the 700 metres of a segment that runs on the main road between the top of the hill where Gilbert Camp begins and the old rain tree where it ends, I counted 25 maket haus. That means an average of one shop every 28 metres. The reason is clear. Money is a constant subject of discussion and silent preoccupation among migrants in

97 Honiara. In Gilbert Camp, on several occasions, I observed a Kwara’ae man studying what his neighbour was doing in order to make some extra-cash. In this respect, a man who worked in a maket haus once told me, “mifala olsem copycat”, literally ‘we are all copycats’.

That does not mean, however, that everybody will succeed. Clement, for example, after a few years following his daily schedule, is now pretty well off compared to his fellow settlers. When he came to live in Honiara, he wanted to make money like everybody else.

Unlike many less skilful businessmen, he quickly learnt to coordinate multiple activities.

That is also thanks to his wife Betty, who takes care of the maket haus while he is away.

Women, indeed, contribute to the household economy with a considerable amount of labour and money. In households where the produce of horticultural gardens is regarded as a commodity, women are usually in charge of selling it in urban markets. That is consistent with the findings of previous studies concerning vegetable production and marketing in Solomon Islands (Siliota et al., 2009). Other jobs undertaken by women include domestic work, waitressing, and being shop assistant.

It is clear from the above that household subsistence is not based solely on production. Rather, cooperation is fundamental because it is through the coordination of multiple activities that households become self-reliant.

2) Self-reliance

Household self-reliance means that the members of each single household have to provide each other with all the resources that are necessary for their survival. It follows that self- reliance and the practice of sharing food and money among members of a household cannot be substantially distinguished.

98 The general principle of household cooperation is that every member works in order to help every other member: the wife helps the husband with work and money, and the husband does the same with her; both parents (including classificatory parents, uncles and aunts) help their children, and their children will help them in turn when they will be old and needy; older brothers and sisters help their younger siblings, expecting them to do the same when they grow up.

Sharing has, it follows, important consequences on the construction of identity. It expresses not only the concept of kinship as the mutuality of being (Sahlins, 2013), but also the principle of generalized reciprocity (Sahlins, 1972), which, ideally, results in a form of transactional equilibrium. Indeed, what is given to the unproductive part of the household by the productive one will be repaid in the future.

However, I observed that the concept of reciprocity is not really adequate to describe the principle that regulates relationships in the Kwara’ae household. Indeed, like in many other parts of the world (see Hiatt, 1982: 14-15), the most important social value is that of generosity, regardless of whether what is given will be returned or not. In other words, it is not necessary that there be a form of equilibrium in people’s reciprocal transactions.

Rather, Kwara’ae people believe that giving should be unconditional. The following excerpt from my field diary is telling of this idea.

[Excerpt from field diary]

Friday, November 18, 2011

Stephen is a man of about 35 years of age, who has never contributed to the domestic economy of his brother Matthew. Yet, he goes to his brother’s house whenever he wants to eat something, and Matthew’s wife never refuses to feed him. Matthew believes that, according to Kwara’ae kastom, there should be some reciprocity among relatives. However, Stephen has never brought any food into

99 Matthew’s house, only taken. Moreover, Stephen has never contributed to any fundraising for the family businesses, such as the bride price for Matthew’s son. However, even in that case, no one dared saying anything to Stephen. On the contrary, Matthew continues to welcome him to his house, lets him take any food he wants, and refers to him as “my brother”. Stephen, on the other hand, takes advantage of this situation. He has two jobs, no wife nor children, does not pay rent and eats his brother’s food. Unless he dissipates his resources in some secret business, by now he should have put a small fortune aside. Yet, he has never even brought a gift for the children. Matthew is disgusted by his brother’s behaviour, but he does not say anything. His culture, he says, does not allow him to openly address the subject. It would be ‘defiling’ for Stephen, he explained me. In summary, according to Kwara’ae moral codes, Stephen is behaving wrongly, but it would also be wrong to reprimand him. Therefore, the situation remains deadlocked: Stephen is never explicitly rebuked for his behaviour, and continues to do what is considered to be wrong, i.e. sponging ad infinitum. Today, Matthew told me that, if Stephen has something “in his head”, sooner or later he will realize how wrongly he is acting and will change his attitude. However, after so many years, this has not happened yet.

At the time when I was writing that page, I believed that I was observing a contradiction: Kwara’ae kastom prescribes a standard of behaviour but forbids enforcing it.

However, I later understood that, rather than failing to enforce it, Kwara’ae people opt for a sort of non-confrontational resistance against behaviours considered to be wrong. Instead of defying the wrongdoer outright, they prefer forms of indirect communication that decentre the ‘accuser’ and de-target the ‘accused’. In this way, the accused is given a chance to realise the inappropriateness of his behaviour and redress his conduct with practices of sharing.

The following brief considerations from my field diary illustrate the point. A few days after the events narrated in the previous excerpt, I observed a scene that helped me to

100 understand how Kwara’ae people can ‘suggest’ that a man changes his behaviour through forms of indirect communication.

[Excerpt from field diary]

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Today was a special day (the first communion of Charles, the fourth son of Matthew) and there were some relatives visiting. All relatives (plus myself) gathered in the kitchen. Stephen, instead, was standing in the porch right in front of us, alone. He was staring into the void, as if he was trying to blend in with the upholstery, and disappear. In contrast, we were sitting close to each other in the kitchen, laughing and making jokes. Stephen stood in that corner the whole time, silent as if he was in punishment.

Refusing food outright is equivalent to breaking off relations.13 That would not be an appropriate reaction to Stephen’s behaviour. Although he does not reciprocate, he is still a relative and relatives shall never be refused food. Reciprocity generally rules relationships between Kwara’ae people, but that does not mean that it has to. In other words, if someone does not reciprocate, that does not mean he will be abruptly ostracized or disinherited.

Simply, people begin to treat him as a relative who can still be fed according to, so to say, the law of hospitality, but who is not granted access to the sphere of intimacy.

It follows that transactions of food and money do not necessarily give a measure of people’s intimacy and participation in each other’s lives. In turn, sharing and/or generosity are not only ways to attain self-reliance through cooperation. They are also ways to maintain “good” social relations, although with a variable degree of intimacy.

13 Kwara’ae people make use of some kind of intentional vagueness (Alpher, 1993: 99) that removes their personal character from the accusation (cf. Kendon, 1988: 455) and makes it sound or look more like a consequence of the person’s behaviour.

101 In addition, residential proximity is not a necessary condition for intimacy, as the excerpt above illustrates, and sharing does not only take place among members of a single residential unit. Sharing, indeed, can unite people living in different areas, which suggests that multiple households can be looked at as a bundle of simultaneously centripetal and centrifugal social relations, rather than a separate cluster of related individuals concentrated within the tin walls of a Gilbert Camp cabin.

3. Relatedness

Extending the limits of the household to the limits of sharing implies the recognition of the power of transactions to create and maintain kinship and kinship-like interpersonal relations. In this sense, relationships between members of different autonomous households can be looked at as concretising both the value of autonomy and that of relatedness, which in itself constitutes a compromise between virtually incompatible principles. Sharing, also, can be considered as the result of specific strategies among subjects interacting in particular socio-historical contingencies. The tendency to interpret sharing in this way can be identified in anthropological approaches to kinship as a post- natal construction and constant reconstruction (see Sansom, 1988; D.F. Martin, 1993).

Following such interpretive tendencies, I claim that Kwara’ae people are attempting to live a “good” life through acts of sharing performed towards other members of their community. Income-generating activities and garden cultivation constitute the basis of their household subsistence and self-reliance, but they are not sufficient. Social relations are equally important.

However, the creation and maintenance of “good” social relationships depends largely upon the circulation of food and money, which, as mentioned above, creates a

102 fundamental incompatibility with the principle of household autonomy. It follows that, in order to maintain “good” relationships, people have to negotiate the value of household autonomy with the value of relatedness. Negotiations take place according to different regimes of value depending on the types of relationship between transactors. In autonomous connected households the regime of value is essentially the same as in the household. In the household, as mentioned above, Kwara’ae people understand their transactions as sharing, which for them constitutes the concretion of “love” (laf). I deal with transactions among interconnected Gilbert Camp households in the first sub-section.

The household is the primary site where kinship and norms of sharing tend to concentrate. Its classic organization is that of a system of production that is not intended to generate any form of surplus (Sahlins, 1972: 82) because the economic transactions that take place inside the household are meant to respond to the moral value of love and reciprocal care among relatives, rather than the accumulation of resources. It is in accordance with these same values that transactions of food and money take place among the members of the Gilbert Camp community, as well as those who reside in the Kwara’ae district. In this sense, their households extend not just beyond the tin walls of their urban dwellings, but even to their homeland. I deal with such extension in the second sub-section.

Although they seek to create and maintain “good” social relationships with their neighbours and friends in the Gilbert Camp community with daily transactions of food and money, sometimes that becomes difficult and even impossible, because of the disproportion between their limited material resources and the number of people they feel related to. Nevertheless, in order to keep valuing these relationships during economically hard times, they manipulate the circulation of goods in creative ways. The ritual exchange analysed in the third sub-section provides an example.

103 Table 3.1 Transactions observed in Gilbert Camp*

Nº Items From To Rationale

1** 36 gifts Women of the Women of the Celebrating friendship Mothers’ Union Mothers’ Union 2 Food About 30 families ACOM of Gilbert Celebrating Camp confirmation 3 $900 9 contributors Pastor Pre-Christmas party 4 1 Tafuli’ae My host Rodolfo Paying son’s debt 5 Money Rodolfo My host’s S Care for my namesake 6 Candy F*** D Sold for $1, teach market values 7 $1 coin F D Pay for housework, teach market 8 Bag of FZDH WMBD Taken when passing by, mangoes appreciation 9 Bag of FZD WMBD Given when passing by, mangoes appreciation 10 1 Pipe WFZDH WMBDH Respect 11 Pineapple FBD FBD Care and love 12 Trash Neighbour Neighbour Feeding the pigs 13 Timber UPC Pastor Getting rid of the wood 14 1 pair of N/A N/A Fraternal love shoes 15 Food and Bride’s side Couple married Pre-wedding help to the $300 relatives soon couple 16 One watch WFZ BDH Appropriation 17 Food ZH & Z WB & B Respect and love

* The details of each transaction are included in Appendix D. ** Numbers refer to the complete list of transactions in Appendix D. *** For glosses, refer to Table 3.5.

104 Table 3.2 Transactions observed between Gilbert Camp and Malaita

Nº Items From To Rationale

18 Food W H and Ch Saying “I think of you all” 19 Food H W Saying “We think of you too” 20 Food H W Saying “I think of you all” 21 1 bag of potatoes D F Familial love 22 Food ZH WB Respect and familial love 23 Taro pudding BWZ ZHB Thanking for assistance, taste of hom 24 Food BSs FB Familial love and appreciation 25 Food BS FZ Respect and familial love 26 Pieces of pork MBS FZS Return on bride price contribution 27 Food D Many Saying “We think of you all”

Table 3.3 Transactions observed in Malaita

Nº Items From To Rationale

28 $670 Groom rel. Groom’s F Collecting bride price 29 $10,000 Pastor Church committee Fund raising 30 $10 Pastor Church committee Financial help 31 $10 Pastor Woman Financial help 32 20Kg rice Family Plantation worker Payment for work 33 $100 Man Fishermen Payment for work 34 Food Neighbours Man “You are welcome” 35 $2,000 MZS MZS Payment for pigs 36 Bread ZH WB Respect 37 Beans ? FZS Cooperation 38 10 fishes Kasin Kasin Fraternal love

105 Limited material resources in conditions of poverty threaten the creation and maintenance of social relationships in the settlement on a more daily basis, rather than at particular economically hard times. The survival of local economic activities depends largely on a careful negotiation between the financial priorities of these fragile businesses and the relationships between local entrepreneurs and their customers. Because customers are connected to these businessmen through social relations regulated by regimes of value other than the exchange of commodities, the moral dimension of their transactions is central to such negotiations. I deal with such negotiations in the last section.

Table 3.1, 3.2, and 3.3 list all the transactions observed during my fieldwork. They constitute the material on the basis of which I have written the following four sections. The details of each transaction are included in Appendix D.

1) Transactions among connected households

The relationships among members of the same household extend and connect people living in different households of the Gilbert Camp community. That is because the people of

Gilbert Camp perceive each other as interrelated individuals. Most commonly, they describe their relationship as based on kinship. They can call anyone cousin (kasin), brother

(brata), sister (sista), or uncle (ankol), even if they might not be able to illustrate their genealogical connections. However, that does not mean that they cannot tell the difference between a close relative, a distant relative, and someone with whom a connection cannot be traced.

That they can tell such difference is particularly evident in their acts of giving. In general, the norm is that Kwara’ae people demand something from someone they know well, and feel uncomfortable to do the same thing with someone they do not know very

106 well. The meaning of ‘knowing someone well’ is very variable. They might know the name of the person, but not their genealogical connection, or they might know the terms of their connection but not each other’s name, or character, and so on and so forth. So, when it comes to requesting and giving, numerous variables are at play. The general norms, however, are those of generosity and reciprocity. Although there is no explicit expectation of return, everybody seems confident that the day when one might happen to need something, one will be able to count on all the people he or she has helped in the past.

Any social interaction constitutes the ideal situation for an act of giving. Most commonly, gifts are given as a consequence of a visit to someone’s house. I frequently observed people giving food to their neighbours when they pay visit, but also how easily they take food without asking. I tell the following story to give an ethnographic example of the reasons and consequences of this pattern of behaviour.

Towards the end of January 2012, I received a bag of mangoes from William, whom I had just visited. I brought the bag home, left it under the porch, and went to the water tap to bathe. Upon my return, I found out that “my” bag of mangoes had disappeared. I interrogated everyone in the household, but no one seemed to know where it was. Two days later, Anna was passing in front of our house and sought the opportunity to let

Gordon know that she had taken the bag of mangoes. Later that day, Gordon told me that and I asked him a couple of questions about Anna.

He explained to me that she was an in-law for him, having married the matrilateral first cousin of his own wife Helen (see Fig. 3.2). Neither Gordon nor Helen knew Anna very well. They only knew she was affinally related to them. Gordon explained that it was not strange she felt entitled to take that bag of mangoes: “If my relatives know they have a relationship with me,” he added, “they can come and take”. However, because they do not

107 know each other very much, she might also feel the need to pay a second visit to let them know she took the bag, which is indeed what happened.

Celes Forgot Salew a

1st bag of mangoes

Helen Gordon 2nd bag of Anna Forgot Kakadi Kakadi mangoes Dale Dale

Figure 3.2 Kinship diagram of Anna’s transactions with the Kakadi household. Key: ¢ female, Δ male, Π siblings, I descent, marriage, taken by, given to.

A few days later, when Anna passed once again in front of Gordon’s house, Helen handed her another bag of mangoes. When I asked Helen why she had thought of preparing a bag of mangoes for Anna, she gave three interrelated answers: there are so many mangoes in the season that not even the children can eat them all; Anna lives on the side of Gilbert Camp where there are no mango trees; and, if Anna took a bag of mangoes few days before, that means she needed them then and she might need some again now.

Situations of this kind can be looked at as instances of demand sharing. In this respect, Peterson and Taylor wrote that these forms of ‘passive giving’ “can be understood in part as an outcome of living in societies with modest means and with universal systems of kin classification where everybody is kin of some sort, and where the obligations to others far outweigh the resources to service them” (Peterson & Taylor, 2003: 108).

108 That is not the end of the story, though. As I was listening to Helen, Gordon laughed and exclaimed: “I will go to her house and demand her to name her baby after me!” And then he added, “It’s just a joke. According to kastom, if I say: I gave you some mangoes, now call that baby after me, no, that is not a family. It is up to them. I just wanted to suggest, that when her baby is born, then she might name him after me!”

That is just one of the many stories I collected that are telling of the tight interpenetration of kastom and economy. Just as much as tense kinship relations, such as the one between George and Stephen, can be maintained through feeding, so the naming of a baby can originate from a gift of mangoes. Transactions of food constitute the most common type of everyday acts of giving and they are inextricably connected with the creation and maintenance of relationships. As we have seen, acting generously, takes place both as spontaneous action and response to people’s demands (Peterson, 1993; Macdonald,

2000; D.F. Martin, 1995). Kwara’ae people, in this way, maintain numerous relationships of mutual dependence with other people in the settlement. They tend to see this pattern of behaviour as exemplary of their traditional kastom. They say they imported it from Malaita in order to make Gilbert Camp a “good” place to live. However, the circulation of food in

Gilbert Camp cannot be substantially distinguished from the circulation of food at hom.

Indeed, a constant flux of transactions bridges the urban context with the Kwara’ae district.

2) Transactions between Gilbert Camp and the Kwara’ae district

Transactions taking place among people coming and going between Honiara and the

Kwara’ae district are an important part of living a “good” life in Gilbert Camp. Performing this kind of transaction, though, can be particularly difficult because of the high costs of shipping, the weight and quantity of items, and the price of the tickets. The fact that people

109 are ready to spend so much energy, time and money to perform these transactions suggests that there must be very important reasons for that.

Ralph, a 30-year-old taxi driver, once shared some of his anxieties with me. He was worried that his relatives at hom could think he had forgotten them. He was afraid to be seen as someone who disregards his culture. He was anxious they would say that distance and waitman culture had transformed him. So, when he sends gifts hom, he does it also because he does not want to be perceived as ‘nogud’ (bad). So, he sends gifts in order to tell his relatives: “I am still a man of my kastom. I do not just think about myself. I am still able to help you and do my part”. Indeed, for Kwara’ae people, “A man who is not connected to his home is a nobody. He is no longer a person” (Kwa’ioloa & Burt, 2013: 148). As cultural geographer Joel Bonnemaison argued about the people of Tanna, lack of connections to one’s place of origin results in becoming a “nameless and homeless creature” (1985: 52).

Another illustration of the importance of inter-island transactions is provided by the following account of a trip to Malaita in which Rose Wuru, a young Kwara’ae woman, paid visit to her paternal and maternal relatives. Rose went in Malaita over Easter because she had some days off from her job. She arrived at the wharf with a large amount of food in her luggage. Hers was a mission, rather than a holiday. Part of that food was addressed to her relatives on her mother’s side (see Fig. 3.3). But she was firstly going to pay visit to her relatives on her father’s side, in Laugwata. So, in order to avoid the embarrassing situation of going away with the food for her maternal relatives, she preferred to leave it in the custody of a friend who lives not far from the wharf of Auki. Later, she arrived in

Laugwata, where she remained with her paternal relatives for two days.

110 Figure 3.3 Kinship Diagram of Rose’s Easter transactions

Key: household, adopted child, transaction

On the day of her departure, she was given some taro pudding, which is traditionally cooked in sections of bamboo (bamboo ara). Passing through Auki, she called at her friend’s place and retrieved the food she had left in custody. She gave it to her maternal relatives with the rice, soap, sugar and the pudding prepared by her father’s relatives. She also gave some money to her maternal grandmother. At the end of the Easter celebrations, she was again at the wharf of Auki to get the ship to Honiara. She was carrying numerous bags of taro, pana and mangrove she had received from her maternal relatives. At the last minute, a man from her father’s side brought seven additional bags of potatoes.

In Honiara, with the help of some relatives and a taxi, she finally managed to bring all this food to Gilbert Camp, where it was promptly distributed. One bag of potatoes was given to each of the three youngest siblings of Rose’s father, John, two to his older

(married) daughters, and the rest was distributed, along with the food from the maternal

111 relatives, to a neighbour, the pastor of the local Pentecostal church, and a friend of Rose’s in virtually equal amounts.

As in the numerous other cases I recorded, various commentaries were provided as a companion to these transactions. The food sent to the relatives in Malaita was presented as a way to substantiate the value of relatedness. In this case, the first transaction took place between Rose and her father’s mother. John organizes these gifts of food, because he feels compelled to reciprocate the gift of nurture he received when he was a baby. He even mentioned the milk he sucked from his mother’s breast. “This is why we have to buy things for them” he added, “so that they will know that it does not matter that we are living in town: we still love and respect them”.

Would it be the same if they just made a phone call? Today that is quite easy, and although the two grandmothers might be too old to use a mobile phone, there is always a young relative who can help if necessity arises. But words are not enough, or maybe they are actually not appropriate. Food is seen as apposite, maybe because it is on food that we live, and by sending food they are making sure that the people they love stay alive.

However, as a matter of fact, the intended recipients do not always consume the food that they receive. Rather, the gifts are reinserted into new trajectories, directed towards other valued members of the network. In this case, this is manifest in the distribution of the food from Malaita to the relatives, neighbours, friends and church affiliates in Honiara. In the end, there was almost nothing left for the Wuru family, not to speak for John and Johanna, who were the original givers and thus, at least in theory, the supposed receivers.

They did receive food, but rather than using it as part of their subsistence, they employed it as part of their social interactions. In this way, they connected their Gilbert

112 Camp community with their hom in Malaita. Interrogated by me, they said they wanted to avoid being seen as selfish people by their relatives and neighbours. The same kind of motivations can be found behind Rose’s decision to hide the food for the maternal relatives while she was visiting the people from her father’s side. And these paternal relatives, who rushed to the wharf to give their contribution, were also acting according to that rationale.

The maximisation of outgoings to gain a large number of gift-debtors, as mentioned above, is seen by Gregory as the opposite of a capitalist drive. Transactions between hom and Honiara seem to respond to the need to give away gifts, especially gifts of food, in order to maintain a relationship with valued members of a network. In the light of transactions taking place in the household, the settlement, and between hom and Honiara it appears that, for the Kwara’ae people’s living in Gilbert Camp, the maximization of outgoings is at the basis of the creation and maintenance of social relationships that make life “good”.

However, ‘maximisation of outgoings’ is obviously not the term that they would use to describe the rationales behind their acts of giving. They would rather say that this is

“love”. There are two words that Kwara’ae people use when they speak about love: alafe’anga and kwaima’anga. An attempt to understand their etymology reveals that the first one relates to the word alafe (kind, gentle), which is the adjective used to describe someone who shows kindness to someone else. Kwaima’anga (generosity), in contrast, expresses a behaviour that is more transactional in character. The first syllable of this word is the same as in kwatea, which is translated with the verb ‘to give’, and in kwate’a, which indicates a gift.

Unsurprisingly, kwaima’anga is used mainly in the sense of observing obligations to give to and help the others, and it is also the term that most closely expresses the concept of reciprocity (cf. Burt, 1994a: 176). However, after careful observation, I agree with my

113 informants that the two terms are used interchangeably, that they are synonyms, in other words. When I interrogate them regarding the semantic difference between love as kindness and love as generosity, they insist that such difference does not persist in the pragmatics of everyday life. Of course one can feel love without necessarily giving evidence of it in the form of a material transaction. However, Kwara’ae people unanimously agree that there is no such a thing as love without kwatea. For them, love is a free gift, one that does not have to be reciprocated. But, if it is true love, it inevitably will.

The concerns of Ralph, Betty, Rose, John, Johanna, Helen, Gordon and all the others about behaving as “good” relatives/neighbours/friends reflect a general attitude of the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp. They are all trying to concretise the value of “love” in their peri-urban community. It is through these acts of giving that they lay the grounds for the kind of “good” life they want to live in Honiara. However, as we shall see in the next section, it is rather difficult to perform such acts during economically hard times.

3) Ritual Exchange

As ‘valuers’, Kwara’ae people can, and sometimes have to, find ways to harmonise the incompatibilities between their local values and the values that rule the market. Ritual activities constitute a site of negotiation in which such harmonisation might take place.

That is why, in this section, I explore an exchange ritual. My aim is to illustrate one way in which Kwara’ae people creatively cope with the multiple liabilities that result from their moral commitment to their community and their need to make ends meet, i.e. by ritually manipulating gift and commodity logics.

114 a. Sikret Fren: an economic strategy for a moral aim

I begin with a page of my diary that provides a brief description of the ritual exchange called Sikret Fren.

[Excerpt from field diary]:

Saturday, November 12th

Around eight in the evening, about a hundred people gathered in the courtyard of the Christ The King church, the Anglican Church of Gilbert Camp. The gathering was announced during last Sunday’s service as the closing event of the annual programme of the Mothers’ Union. Tonight, I observed three main social happenings: a succession of dances, a sequence of choral songs, and a series of gift exchanges. […] Thirty-six women, all members of the Mothers’ Union, exchanged gifts during 18 exchanges. Each pair of exchangers performed the exchange within a circle formed by spectators, other women waiting to exchange or who had already exchanged, and some of the church staff. The pairs met in the centre of the circle; the two women presented their gifts in turn, and exchanged some women’s clothes too. At times, someone in the public would shout a joke, and everyone would add more laughter. At the beginning, everything looked normal to me somehow. But then I noticed what the women were donating to each other. I saw Delilah giving a set of dishes and cups to Madeleine, and Madeleine reciprocating with a set of dishes and cups too. They were the same type of dishes, the same cups, and they were equal in quantity. “Why are they exchanging equal amounts of the same things?” I wondered. “Maybe Delilah and Madeleine have accidentally bought the same gift?” I thought. This would close the question, were it not for the fact that also Wendy and Ethel each donated to the other the same amount of cups and plates. At that point I started suspect that this was not by chance.

After some days of research, I collected the data I needed to begin an analysis of

Sikret Fren. Sikret Fren is a ritual exchange that has been celebrated towards the end of the solar year for the last six or seven years in the Anglican Church of Gilbert Camp. Exchange

115 partners refer to each other as “my best friend”. The ritual consists of an exchange of goods on the quality and quantity of which the exchange partners agree beforehand.

However, if the gift is known before the exchange takes place, and the exchange partners also know each other, then it is not clear what the Pidgin term Sikret refers to. Is the friend who is secret, the gift, or what? My interviewees all said that it is the gift that is

Sikret, not the friend. However, when I asked them, reversing the question, if the gift was secret, they would reply: “Not really”. This admission reveals much of the meaning of Sikret

Fren, but in order to delve into this it is necessary to analyse a further set of details.

Plate 3.4 Two members of the Mothers’ Union exchanging cups and plates

The pairs were formed in the following way. About two weeks before the ritual, 18 out of 36 women wrote their names on eighteen pieces of paper, which they placed in a plastic bag, and the other 18 extracted one per head. So, not only were the gifts “not really”

“secret”. Also, the exchange partners were “not really” “friends”.

116 Table 3.4 Sikret Fren exchanges, Gilbert Camp, November 12th 2011

Transaction* Gift from partner A Gift from partner B Surplus (+) to partner B to partner A or Deficit (-)

Items $ Items $ $

1 Plates, cups 100 Plates, cups 100 0 2 Plates, cups 100 Plates, cups 100 0 3 Plates, cups 100 Plates, cups 100 0 4 3 trays 100 4 trays 100 0 5 Plates, cups 170 Plates, cups 170 0 6 2 trays 100 3 containers 100 0 7 Plates, pots 120 Plates, pots 120 0 8 2 cup sets 200 2 cup sets 200 0 9 2 big plates 200 Pan, plates 200 0 10 Plates, cups 130 Plates, cups 100 +30 11 Plates, cups 130 Plates, cups 170 -40 12 Plates, cups 86 Plates, cups ? ?

* I was only able to collect data for 12 out of 18 transactions.

The agreement between exchange partners was based upon two rules: (1) the economic value of the objects had to be identical; and (2) the gift was to respond to the wishes expressed by the recipient. However, not all women exchanged identical objects, although most did (see Table 3.4). When I asked those who exchanged different objects why they did so, they simply said that they needed different things. So, they just told their exchange partner to buy what they needed, and bought in return what they were told to buy. In addition, not all women exchanged gifts for the same amount of money, although most did. Precisely, two pairs exchanged gifts of different monetary value: the pair formed by Muriel and Lily, and that formed by Rose and Annette. Their exchanges constitute two

117 exceptions to the rule. As such, their exchanges also provide an explanation of the rule by the very fact of negating it. Indeed, the women in both pairs clearly explained that they did not exchange like-for-like gifts even if they knew that this is what they were supposed to do.

I met Muriel, and, separately, I met Lily. Both laughed when I asked them why they had exchanged gifts of different monetary value. Both said that they did not have the chance to meet before that night on November 12, and that it was only when they exchanged that they realised that the quantity and cost of their gifts were unequal.

However, they also said that it was not a problem. Muriel, for example, put it this way:

Muriel: She is my kasinsista, we don’t need to give the same.

Relatives, she meant, do not have to exchange equal amounts (see Table 3.5). Later,

I met Rose for an interview that was not initially related to the Sikret Fren. I spent a couple of hours with her and her husband, talking about weddings, bride prices, and tradition. We were sipping some over-sweetened tea. I asked them whether they belonged to any group, political, religious, or otherwise. As I was waiting for the answer, Rose’s eyes pointed right, as if that question reminded her of something. So, I asked:

Rodolfo: What were you thinking about?

Rose: I’ve forgotten to do something important…

Rodolfo: May I ask you what that was?

Rose: I have to go to buy some cups and plates.

Rodolfo: Do you need cups and plates? It seems to me that there are enough of

them here, even for the guests.

118 Table 3.5 Kwara’ae and Pidgin Kinship terms

Pidgin

Kwara’ae Rural Urban Gloss

Te’a Mami Mami M Te’a Mami Anti FBW, MZ A’ai Anti Anti MBW, FZ, Ma’a Dadi Dadi F Ma’a Dadi Ankol FB, MZH Ngwai Ankol Ankol MB, FZH Ngwai’futa Brata Brata B Ngwai’futa Brata Kasinbrata FBS, MZS Di’i Kasinbrata Kasinbrata MBS, FZS Ngwaingwaena Sista Sista Z Ngwaingwaena Sista Kasinsista FBD Di’i Kasinsista Kasinsista MBD, FZD Aloko San San S Aloko San Ankol BS, FBDS, etc. Ngwai Ankol Ankol ZS, MBDS, MZDS, FZDS, etc. Diofo Dota Dota D Diofo Dota Ankol BD, FBDD, etc. Ngwai Ankol Ankol ZD, MBDD, MZDD, FZDD, etc. Ko’oko Grani Grani MM, MMZ, MMB, MMZH, MMBW, SS, SD, DD, DS, ZDD, ZDS, ZSS, BDS, BDD, BSS, BSD, FF, FFZ, FFB, etc. Sai Tabu Tabu WZ, HZ Luma’a Tabu Tabu WB, HB Sata Tabu Tabu WZH, HZH, WBW, HBW Funga Tabu Tabu WF, WM, HF, HM

119 Rose: No… it’s just that during the feast for the closing of the year I had a

misunderstanding with my friend, and so she gave me plates and cups for

SBD$ 130, and I for only SBD$ 100. So, I have to go and buy something.

Friends, she meant, have to exchange equal amounts.

In both cases, exchange partners exchanged gifts of different monetary values even if they knew they were supposed to give the same. Because the two pairs behaved in a different way from the rest of the group, and because they felt the need to justify such

‘transgression’, it seems correct to conclude that giving gifts of equal price was a rule that they intended, but failed, to respect.

In addition, it is possible to gain further insight from their subsequent actions. After the ritual took place, Muriel and Lily did not organise another transaction in order to

‘balance their accounts’, i.e. to make their acts of giving equal in terms of monetary value.

Rose and Annette, in contrast, later met up so that the ‘debtor’ could give her ‘creditor’ cups for SBD$ 30. The reasons given by the two pairs are consistent: friends have to exchange the same, whereas relatives do not have to. In this sense, Sikret Fren should be analysed in relation to the ways in which people differentiate, rather than establish, particular relationships. Both pairs were pointing to the fact that friends and relatives are not the same. Relatives, among other things, are people with whom a debtor-creditor relationship does not generate the need to repay, whereas friends, among other things, are people to whom a debt should be repaid as soon as possible.

This distinction is important. Indeed, if the exchange partners differentiate between friends and relatives, and establish a relation between each category and a particular exchange regime, then it is possible to determine a central feature of Sikret Fren, i.e. the kind of relationship created between the exchange partners. If people in Sikret Fren are expected

120 to give each other gifts of equal monetary value, and if they believe that friends have to give each other gifts of equal monetary value, it follows that people who exchange gifts in Sikret

Fren treat each other as friends and not as relatives. However, that does not mean that relatives cannot take part, as evidenced by the participation of Muriel and Lily. What matters, rather, is that they look at each other as friends within the context of the ritual.

To sum up, besides two exceptions that confirm the rule, Sikret Fren had been performed on the basis of an agreement between exchange partners who decided according to their personal needs and circumstances. However, this conclusion only describes. It does not explain why the ritual as a whole was organised. In other words, what is the point of buying a gift for your exchange partner in order to get what you want in return, when you can buy what you want in the first place and with the same expenditure?

I propose an answer. With less than a pound a day, people in Gilbert Camp do not have enough resources to put food on the table and save money at the same time. Living on the threshold of subsistence, they do not even dream of Christmas gifts or presents for the end of the school. In addition, gifts sometimes have an even more problematic feature: they might occur on dates close to each other, and at times of the year when heavy expenditure already weighs on the household economy. This is the case of New Year’s Eve,

Christmas, the end of the high school (December 2), and the end of the Summer School,

(November 26). Since these celebrations are so close to each other, it would be impossible for people in Gilbert Camp to have enough money to meet the expenditure resulting from the organisation of feasts and the purchase of gifts, and also buy the food they need to survive during that period. So, the women of the Mothers’ Union conflated multiple acts of gift-giving into a single public ceremony. That is what Joyce meant when she said that her

Sikret Fren was a “Christmas present”, even if she gave it to Georgina more than a month

121 before Christmas. In addition, the exchange partners also merged these multiple acts of gift-giving with an ordinary purchase of useful goods. Indeed, as Helen admitted, “we all need cups and plates. It’s to eat and drink”.

In summary, people in Gilbert Camp think that it is important to behave as “good” community members who exchange gifts on important occasions. But because gifts cost money, and there is so little of it, they cannot spend that money on useless objects. Gifts symbolise friendship and unity, but in conditions of financial hardship they must also be materially beneficial. Sikret Fren, it follows, provided the women of the Mothers’ Union with an opportunity to publicly demonstrate how highly they value their community, and obtain the goods they needed. With one single disbursement, they bought two things: useful goods, and moral recognition. Indeed, here is what the chaplain said at the end of the exchange:

George: We appreciate their way of giving because it is more like a sister to sister

relationship and whatever each of them can afford to give, that is given

from the heart, and not forcing each to give something more than what the

other could afford. So, that is why I said that we are happy with what the

Mothers here are doing, because it is a way that we, as Christians, should

exchange kinds of gift that each family would benefit from. Because gifts

will involve plates, cups, bowls, whatever, and that is something that would

go towards the families.

That was more or less the same thing Joy said:

Joy: I gave in order to help Rhoda’s family.

122 Although the words of the chaplain are coherent with the point of view of the

Mothers, I believe that it is not enough to conclude that the ritual was organised in order to obtain at the same time useful goods and moral recognition. Put in this way, this conclusion seems to suggest that economic benefit and moral recognition are given the same value. In contrast, my contention is that, as far as the ritual is concerned, the aim of the exchangers lies much more in their acting as moral agents, rather than in the allocation of their resources.

As I have already mentioned, the money disbursed to purchase the goods is the same spent to buy the gifts. In terms of monetary expenditure, there is no difference between buying cups and plates at the corner shop and obtaining them as counter-gift. To put it briefly, organising the Sikret Fren does not result in any form of economic gain. Thus, all that is added to the purchase, i.e. the gift exchange, and all that is built around the transaction, i.e. the ritual itself, is constructed for aims other than obtaining useful goods.

As I explained above, the problem that the Mothers were confronting was the impossibility of buying gifts during a period of celebration, because of lack of money. They organised the ritual in order to solve that problem, at least in part. Rather than for economic benefit, the ritual was organised notwithstanding economic disadvantage. In conclusion, the whole point of Sikret Fren is moral action and recognition.

b. The manipulation of gift and commodity logics

This conclusion, however, does not close the matter. Rather, it opens up the question regarding what kind of morality Sikret Fren is meant to make visible. In order to explore this aspect, I undertake an analysis of the salient features of this ritual and compare it with other ethnographic studies of Melanesian like-for-like exchange.

123 Bronislaw Malinowski inaugurated the study of like-for-like exchanges in Melanesia.

With reference to the fact that “in savage communities, whether bountifully or badly provided for by nature, everyone has the same free access to all the necessities”

(Malinowski, 1922: 129), he asked: “Why make a present of it, if it cannot be returned except in the same form?” He identified two faulty assumptions in the rationale underlying such a question: that there can only be an exchange as long as there is differential access to resources; and that there has to be some form of rational expectation of material gain. The first is incorrect because it does not consider “the love of give and take for its own sake; the active enjoyment in possession of wealth, through handing it over” (Ibid.). The second is faulty because there is no material gain in letting yams rot in the storehouse, nor in displaying them as they go bad, unless one considers the psychological pleasure of wealth exhibition to be material. After a few concessions, Malinowski generalised his conclusion, writing: “in almost all forms of exchange in the Trobriands, there is not even a trace of gain, nor is there any reason for looking at it from the purely utilitarian and economic standpoint”(Ibid.: 134). The same can be said about Sikret Fren, as mentioned above.

It seems thus safe to consider as resolved the relationship between the things exchanged. I can now begin to explore the relationship between the people exchanging.

“Symmetrical exchange of the same thing [in Melanesian societies] takes place between equals in status, and it is at the same time the prime means of achieving prestige, each prestation being a challenge to demonstrate equality.” (Forge, 2004: 135)

This is possible because prestige and equality, in the long run, create and are created by a swapping domination between equals in status, a relationship that Andrew Strathern defined as “alternating disequilibrium” (A. Strathern, 1971: 11). I believe that equality is

124 established also between Sikret Fren exchange partners, but for different reasons and within the context of a peculiar type of domestic moral economy. Indeed, Anthony Forge was looking at a delayed form of like-for-like exchange. There, time played a crucial role, because a successful exchange was conditional upon growing a yam equal in length to the one received. In the context of Sikret Fren, instead, the exchange was simultaneous.

Secondly, traditional Melanesian like-for-like exchanges were competitive, which was what made it possible to increase the prestige of transactors and to constantly swap positions in the alternating domination. In contrast, Sikret Fren was not competitive at all.

Nevertheless, the reason why I recalled Forge’s approach to Melanesian like-for-like exchange is that he looked at these exchanges as efforts to maintain equality (Forge, 1972:

527), which is an aspect that, I claim, characterizes Sikret Fren too.

This brief discussion of the relationships between exchange partners and things exchanged suggests that the women of the Mothers’ Union were manipulating the logics of gift exchange. In order to explore this manipulation, I will now make a critical use of the categorical opposition between gifts and commodities.14 My aim is to illustrate why Sikret

Fren constitutes one possible compromise between different regimes of value such as that of commodity economy and Melanesian exchange.

Gregory wrote that the social context of the exchange determines the motivation of transactors (Gregory, 1982: 100). Within a context of Melanesian gift exchange, the relationship between transactors is determined as one of rank difference. Exchange, as we have seen, results in a form of alternating domination that depends on a debt relation.

14 Gregory (1982) juxtaposed a specific Melanesian kind of exchange with a specific Western capitalist kind of commodity, but he also made it clear that in fact there are many hybrid forms. The distinction, therefore, is purely analytical and is used for analytical purposes.

125 Debt is continuously reversed from one exchange partner to the other over a delayed period of time. Within the context of Sikret Fren, in contrast, a relation of rank difference is not established between two transactors. Rather, as mentioned above, it is one of equality between people and equivalence between things. Furthermore, the exchange of gifts does not result in mutual dependence, as is the case in classical Melanesian gift exchange.

Indeed, even if the things exchanged during Sikret Fren were considered to be ‘gifts’ and described as inalienable from their donor, as a matter of fact the relationship between the exchange partners is one of mutual independence between aliens: they are not indebted, they do not know each other, and the two transactions (AèB and BèA) take place simultaneously. That is what the Mothers’ Union women meant when they said that ritual friends are “not really” friends: the qualitative relation between friends is actually a quantitative relation between things, i.e. the type of relation that pertains to the regime of commodity exchange.

However, although these features suggest that commodity exchange is the regime to which the ritual belongs, it is not possible to situate Sikret Fren within this category of exchange. Indeed, it is ethnographically documented that people in Gilbert Camp do not see Sikret Fren as an exchange of commodities. This intersection of theoretical framework and ethnographic data shows that the objects exchanged are inalienable, but “not really” inalienable; that their relation is qualitative, but “not really” qualitative; that they establish dependence between non-aliens but “not really” dependence between non-aliens; lastly, that non-aliens are “not really” non-aliens. It follows that the ritual itself belongs at the same time to the category of gift exchange and to that of commodity exchange: those cups and plates are at the same time gifts and commodities. On the one hand, this is because they are a blend of what the analyst and the people see in them, i.e. at once gifts to ritual

126 friends and marketable items purchased and exchanged in order to satisfy wants or needs.

On the other hand, the cups and plates share features of both categories at the same time, according to how Gregory formulated them. Although, like commodities, Sikret Fren gifts are alienable, simultaneously exchanged between independent aliens, and equal in quantitative value, they do not spring from production and productive consumption; they cannot be explained in terms of control over productive labour; and, most importantly, the exchange is not intended to acquire the objects.

So, if it is true that the motivation of transactors is determined by the social context of the exchange, then the social context of Sikret Fren is that of a gift society at the threshold of a commodity economy, which is exactly what Gilbert Camp is. What the women of the Mothers’ Union accomplished with the organization of Sikret Fren, in conclusion, is a combination of gift and commodity logics to reconcile their paucity of monetary resources and need to shepherd those resources to acquire needed commodities, with the concretion of the value of social relations.

4) Credit and debt

Strategies to balance economic necessity and morality are not created only in economically difficult times. On a more daily basis, people who run a business in Gilbert Camp have to negotiate their relationships with customers who are at the same time relatives, neighbours, and friends. Selling on credit is a common situation in which the economic value of the debt/credit (kaon) and the moral value of social relationships are negotiated.

In Solomon Islands, the word kaon is most frequently used to describe the practice of buying on credit. According to Jourdan and Maebiru (2002: 94) the term kaon comes from the English noun ‘account’ (at a supplier). Sensim kaon means to pay a debt or a loan,

127 and askem kaon means to buy on credit. It can also mean ‘to borrow’ as in kaon lo bank

(borrow money from the bank), and to owe, as in mi kaon lo iu (I owe you).

Kaon is a very important element in Solomon Islands economy, but it also has rather negative connotations. The negative effect of failing to pay debts is a current subject of debate. When people speak about the breakdown of small businesses, they always mention that the main cause is relatives who buy on credit and fail to pay.

Plate 3.5 The ‘No Kaon’ notice

Kaon, however, is also an important part of society and economy in a more positive way. It is at the basis of innumerable social interactions: kaon is paid when a bride price contribution is given (Burt & Kwa’ioloa, 2013: 87), while at the same time another kaon is created with that very same transaction; when a man pays the school fees for his younger brothers, that is kaon, which will be repaid when the boys have a job, and so on and so

128 forth. In these cases, the emphasis on delayed repayment points to the trust that people have in each other.

Formulated in this way, the meaning of kaon seems to be found in a dichotomy that opposes “nogud kaon” (bad credit) and “gud kaon” (good credit). Nogud kaon is not simply kaon that is not paid. It is also kaon that simply threatens the financial stability of a business. It suffices that kaon is demanded to create worry in the person who is requested to concede it. In Gilbert Camp, many among those who manage a small business do not concede kaon because they are afraid that this will make their business fragile. Indeed, kaon that is paid in the long term is perceived almost as bad as one that is not paid at all.

On the other hand, gud kaon is not simply one that is paid. If a man is not given back some money he lent, he might see this as a condition that allows him to consider his debtor as an asset. He can demand that his debtor does things for him, and his debtor can obey without demanding anything in exchange. His reputation is at stake, and he is supposed to be generous with the man who trusted him enough to sell on credit to him.

Ultimately, that kaon might never be paid, and yet this will not threaten the relationship between the two. This, however, is a situation that is likely to take place only if the lender has enough money to sustain his own living, while at the same time helping his relative or friend.

So, the dichotomy between a good and a bad kaon is not as clear-cut as it might seem. Similarly, understanding who is suitable to pay on credit is not an easy task, because each shopkeeper has his own strategies and rules, which can be very different from each other. In general, shopkeepers think that kaon is not a good thing in itself, because it

“disturbs” the business. However, being totally unwilling to sell on credit can threaten the business too. People talk, and they would stigmatize the unwilling shopkeeper as a selfish

129 man who forgets about his duties as a member of the community (cf. Graeber, 2013: 102).

As a consequence, a delicate balance has to be found. This is why shopkeepers, while displaying the ‘no kaon’ sign (see Plate 3.6), put their customers to the test when they demand credit.

Most shopkeepers find it very hard to say ‘no’. Refusing kaon, like refusing food, is tantamount to refusing the relationship with the person who demands.15 When they wish to refuse, they would rather make a face expression that reminds you of someone who has a stomach ache. That is ironic, in a way, because it is the customer demanding kaon who is supposedly starving. Anyway, if the shopkeeper decides to sell on credit, he will then write down the name of the creditor on a kaon buk (sort of debt record) that he keeps under the counter. This explains why so many shopkeepers, while displaying the ‘no kaon’ sign, still keep a kaon buk.

There are elements that make a customer more likely to be conceded kaon. A shopkeeper said he would be willing to concede kaon only to those he can “control”. He knows his creditors, he knows who is employed and would not waste all his money on beer, betel nut, and cigarettes. He meets him regularly, but does not remind him of his debt every time. Often, people who are given kaon are people who live in the same household with the shopkeeper, or in the immediate neighbourhood. If they buy food on credit from him, they might offer him part of the meal they prepared with that food. But it would not be well regarded if they do not pay their debt with money, and in full. Such obligation is generally not deemed as wrong or rude. People seem to understand that it is necessary for

15 Not saying ‘no’ is a characteristic of Kwara’ae communicative style that Kwara’ae people share with, among others, Aboriginal Australians (for example, see Myers, 1976: 391; Liberman, 1985: 13- 14; Von Sturmer, 1981: 17)

130 their business-minded neighbour to make a profit. They think that, if they were not willing to pay, they would do something “nogud” to him.

Those who are given kaon will never be given it again if they do not pay. Those who pay, in turn, can climb up a sort of ladder of trust. Geoffrey, for example, conceded credit to his neighbour when the man arrived in Gilbert Camp from Choiseul. His name was Excel. Since the beginning of their relationship, Excel always paid his debts on time, each fortnight, with no exception. He was proving to be so trustworthy that Geoffrey started to treat him differently. Later, their debtor-creditor relationship progressively shifted to relationship of fictive kinship. When Geoffrey introduced me to the Choiseulese, he exclaimed:

Geoffrey: This is my brother! Meet him!

Rodolfo: Your brother?? You do not look alike at all!

Geoffrey: You see how dark his skin is? And yet he is my brother, do you know

why?

He told me why, and that is how I collected this story.

A relationship of economic debt can generate, alter, compromise, and annihilate a social relationship. That is why kaon can be looked at as one of the transactional forms used by the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp to manage their sociality.

As we have seen, “good” social relationships are necessary for them to live a

“good” life as much as food and money are necessary for household subsistence and self- reliance. People obviously need food and money to survive. But, to paraphrase a Biblical proverb, Kwara’ae people do not live by cassava alone. The importance of “good” social relationships to live a “good” life is illustrated by the efforts they make to realize the

131 transactions that are meant to maintain the “goodness” of such relations, notwithstanding their general condition of poverty.

Their poverty is first due to the fact that they do not own the land upon which they reside. When land has to be rented, the result is a recurrent drain of money. Should settlers refuse to pay a “landowner”, a Temporary Occupation Licence (TOL), or a Fixed Term

Estate (FTE), they might save some money, but would live in a continual lack of security.

As we shall see, however, even those who pay eventually experience such lack of security, for reasons that I explore in the next chapter.

Secondly, the cost of food is rather high in Honiara.16 Exactly a month before my arrival, the national newspaper Solomon Star published an article headed “Cost of living in

Honiara, unbearable” (Kauhue, 2011). These costs are even higher considering that there is a general disproportion between money and mouths to feed in the average Gilbert Camp household.

This second aspect is not just a local, isolated occurrence. Rather, it is a national problem. Despite all the natural resources with which the Solomon Islands are endowed, the economy has not grown during the last decade. The population, in contrast, has grown with the second fastest growth rate in the Pacific (2.7 % in 2008,17 2.59 % in 201118). The country suffered a severe economic regression around 2000. The so-called ‘Ethnic

16 Suffices to say that the price of rice was 2.5 times higher in 2011 than it was in 2002; the price of noodles doubled during the same time span. The cost of 500 gallons of water supply almost tripled, and that of 40 units of electricity was 5 times higher in 2011 than it was in 2002 (Solomon Islands National Statistics Office, 2011). 17 “Solomons Population, Second Fastest Growth Rate in Pacific” - Solomon Times Online, 05/06/2008. 18 Population growth (annual %) in Solomon Islands, World Bank; http://data.worldbank.org/country/solomon-islands accessed on 3/25/14 11:18 AM.

132 Tensions’ and the subsequent civil unrest contributed to worsening the general economic situation. Between 1998 and 2002, the gross domestic product decreased by about 24 %.

Thus, the population kept growing in a context of economic and political decline that resulted in raising commodity prices and the withdrawal of public services. Because of a general lack of investments and an increasing number of people placing further demand on already stretched services, Solomon Islanders live in a condition of worse general wellbeing compared to their Pacific neighbours.19

The reaction of the Kwara’ae people to such a historical phase is a daily effort to live a

“good” life by working hard and maintaining “good” relationships notwithstanding the basilar incompatibility between the limited availability of resources in autonomous households and the need to concretise the value of relatedness with transactions of food and money. I tried to show that there is a clear relation between Gilbert Camp as a historically and geographically specific socio-economic context and the creative response its people elaborate in order to cope with conflicting priorities that are themselves specific of that particular context. Concrete situations in which the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp attempt to solve that fundamental incompatibility include kaon, ritual exchanges such as

Sikret Fren, and transactions such as gifts of food between hom and Honiara as well as within the settlement itself. Such attempts, in conclusion, are the clearest illustration of how intensely they want Gilbert Camp to be the place where they can live a “good” life.

19 Australian Government Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade. 2004. “Solomon Islands: Rebuilding an Island Economy” http://www.dfat.gov.au/publications/rebuilding_solomon/ accessed on 3/25/14 11:19 AM.

133

134

CHAPTER 4

“BIG CONFUSION”:1 THE LAND QUESTION IN GILBERT CAMP

Plate 4.1 The land meeting, Aekafo, May 17th, 2012

“All these recent changes distorted the knowledge. Land and people are distanced so much that it affects our understanding.”

James

1 S.I. Pidgin: “Bigfala konfius”.

135 1. “Mifala garem bigfala konfius”:2 Leadership? Access? Ownership? Boundary?

In the previous chapter I mentioned that a “good” life for the Kwara’ae people is not just a life in which you have food, money, and “good” social relationships. A “good” life is also a life in which you have a safe place to live. Gilbert Camp is not such a place, because the many tensions about the issue of land prevent the settlers from feeling that sense of protection that only hom can give. From their point of view, such tensions result in a “big confusion” (bigfala konfius). My interpretation is that “big” indicates the ‘thickness’ of several layers of confusion placed against each other, and expresses the inability of the

Gilbert Camp population to see the land issue clearly. In the absence of such clarity, they cannot feel secure.

According to my analysis, from the point of view of the settlers there are four layers of confusion that obfuscate the issue of land. Firstly, in Gilbert Camp people do not know who is supposed to represent their residence rights. Secondly, they are confused regarding the ‘right’ way of accessing land. Thirdly, they do not know who the “real landowner” is.

Fourthly, the land boundary is a further cause of confusion, because it has kept changing since the foundation of Honiara.

The Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp do not necessarily contextualise these issues within the history of land policy in Solomon Islands. However, what they are experiencing is only the most recent development of a process that dates back at least a hundred years.

In order to understand the current situation, thus, it is necessary to briefly examine the events that caused the progressive complexification of the land issue in Solomon Islands.

2 S.I. Pidgin, lit. “We have a big confusion”.

136 After such historical contextualisation, I examine some recent attempts by the provincial government to clarify the situation. Again, although the people of Gilbert Camp are not necessarily aware of these processes, these attempts contribute to their sense of confusion by making the issue of landownership even more difficult to clarify.

Land officials are collecting oral accounts from Guadalcanal men to identify the

“original landowners”, but this procedure is not producing the expected results. There are two main reasons for that. Firstly, Guadalcanal men are trying to appropriate ownership rights that historically belong to Guadalcanal women. Secondly, the interests of the

Guadalcanal men converge with the administrative preferences of provincial officials for patrilineal descent, which they consider better suitable to their agenda than the

“complicated” original system, which is matrilineal.

In order to disentangle these multiple and intertwined causes of confusion, I subdivided this chapter into three sections. The first section examines confusion from the point of view of the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp, the second from a historical perspective, and the third from the viewpoint of “landowners” and government officials. It follows that, rather than presenting all the ethnographic material at the beginning and proceeding inductively, I distribute it and discuss it within each relevant section. In this way, I hope to avoid contributing to the current confusion around the issue of land. More importantly, my aim is to give priority to the point of view of the Kwara’ae people of

Gilbert Camp, and explain why they struggle so much to live according to their values.

The Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp, in the attempt to transform their settlement into a place where they can feel safe, negotiate their concerns with two categories of interlocutors: “landowners” (real or supposed) and officials working for the national and the provincial government.

137 Concerning government officials, the issue of land is currently in the hands of two men. Harold Anola is in charge of the area of land within the Town Boundary, whereas

James Kini’Afe is currently working on a project for the recognition of landownership in and around Honiara. They play a prominent role in perpetuating the sort of land policies and practices that cause the confusion experienced by the people of Gilbert Camp.

In addition to government officials, settlers have to negotiate with Guadalcanal men who claim landownership rights upon the area of interest. Among these, Valeriano Chualu and Jacob Samonima are those whom I most frequently observed interacting with members of the community. They propose deals to access “their” land, but their landownership claims largely contradict each other.

It follows that it is not easy for the people in Gilbert Camp to interact with

“landowners” and government officials. In addition, they do not have representatives in charge of defending their priorities and perspectives. During a land meeting I observed, only a few men, like Mike, John, Terence, and Joses, were familiar enough with the issue of land to confront their interlocutor. Nevertheless, other people who feature in my ethnographic account, such as Gordon, George, Cyril, Georgina, Rhoda, and Jane, have their own point of view on land, which is itself a form of commitment to transform Gilbert

Camp into a better place to live. Their perspectives are crucial to understand what the “big confusion” is about, and how it prevents them from living as they wish.

To summarise their puzzlement in confronting the issue of land, I formulate the following four questions: who has the right to speak on the behalf of the community?

How can settlers gain access to land? Who is the “landowner”? Where is the town boundary? Rather than answering these questions, the following section illustrates why the

“big confusion” prevents the people of Gilbert Camp from finding any definitive answers.

138 1) “I am not a chief, but…”: Speaking on the behalf of the community

In this section, I present and analyse my account of the meeting organised in Gilbert Camp by Harold Anola. In particular, I examine what the organiser and the participants said and how they interacted. In this way, I intend to illustrate how their interaction gave me the opportunity to disentangle four causes of “big confusion”. I begin with a quick summary of the happening, excerpted from my field diary.

[Excerpt from field diary]

17th May 2012

I have just returned from a meeting held in Aekafo, an area adjacent to Gilbert Camp, located between a stretch of river and the rainforest. The meeting was organized by Harold. I have been in contact with him since the beginning of my fieldwork, as I was trying to understand how the government is dealing with the issue of landownership in the settlements.

During the meeting, men were sitting on one side, whereas women were standing on the other. Children were going back and forth, and sometimes they would stop and listen. Few men of the community came forward, and presented their positions. But they did not have the authority to speak on the behalf of the community, there being no chiefs in Gilbert Camp. Harold asked all participants to pay the fees to get a Temporary Occupation Licence, or TOL. That caused many puzzled faces, for the issue of land is all but clear from the point of view of a settler.

Harold holds a position as Director of Physical Planning at the Ministry of Lands,

Housing and Survey. His latest assignment was to document and tackle unauthorised occupation of public land in Honiara. The meeting he organised contributed to the “big confusion” largely as a result of his disregard for the point of view of the people of Gilbert

Camp concerning the issue of land. However, the problem was also that they did not have someone in charge of speaking on their behalf.

139 Around 6 p.m. Harold started to explain the current land policy to those who turned up to his meeting. In particular, he wanted to make everyone aware of the importance of paying their TOL, the licence that legally authorises an individual to make use of a piece of alienated and registered land belonging to the Solomon Islands government.

That was itself quite confusing, given that such a meeting was taking place in

Aekafo, i.e. outside the town boundary, on customary land belonging to the indigenous people of Guadalcanal, rather than alienated and owned by the government that he represented. Ironically, Harold came with the purpose of clarifying the current land policy, but from the very beginning he positioned himself as an agent of confusion.

Although the contradiction was rather evident, only Joses felt confident enough to point that out. But that was towards the end of the meeting. Harold was an expert in land matters, having worked in this field for more than 25 years. He looked very confident.

The participants, in contrast, were feeling rather unprepared to confront him.

Who were they? They were unskilled workers, builders, taxi drivers, farmworkers, pastors, and their wives. Although some of them have lived in Honiara for a long time, they were not equipped to negotiate with the Director of Physical Planning at the Ministry of Lands. Also, they lacked a community representative in charge of defending their rights, priorities and values. In addition, the issue of land, particularly land in Gilbert Camp, is of such complexity that a thorough expertise is necessary to confront a professional like

Harold. And they were lacking that too.

Harold opened the meeting with the following statement, which highlights another reason why the participants were not equipped to confront their visitor: they were only given one day to prepare.

140 Harold: Yesterday I came here to give notice about the meeting. I am sorry if we

only gave you short notice. But for me it is not short notice! Actually, a lot

of people come to my office everyday and we pass information to them.

Before we begin, I would like to meet your chief. Who is your chief? I

suppose you have a chief, don’t you?

No one responded. People whispered, someone laughed, presumably out of embarrassment, after poking a friend and inciting him to step up and talk. That moment epitomized one of the most problematic aspects of collective life in Gilbert Camp, i.e. people do not consider themselves to be represented by a chief or a board of chiefs.

However, it would not be accurate to say that in Gilbert Camp there are no chiefs.

In fact, the opposite is true: there are many who consider themselves chiefs. Some of them are well-known men such as Talo, Ramo, and Fono. I visited these men in several occasions, when I was trying to understand the social organisation in the settlement. They all claimed to have some form of authority and a mandate to speak on the behalf of the community. In reality, they do not even have any authority over parts of the settlement, not to speak of Gilbert Camp as a whole. In brief, they might claim to have some form of influence, but no one considers such authority to be paramount.

I never had the opportunity to observe either Talo, nor Ramo or Fono exercising the role of chief. The land meeting discussed in this section is just one of many social situations in which they did not have any role. That is part and parcel of a more general problem of leadership in Solomon Islands, which Michael Kwa’ioloa discussed in his latest book (Kwa’ioloa & Burt, 2013: 135-162). As a particular consequence of this general problem, no one stood up in the meeting. Harold, thus, went back on the floor and spoke in an ironic tone.

141 Harold: There are a lot of chiefs, indeed! Anyway, please choose someone who

can pray, so that we can have a prayer together.

Timidly, Mike stood up and went to the centre of the stage, so to say.

Mike: Before we begin, I would like to ask you if we could share a prayer.

We prayed. Mike was a catechist in one the local SSEC churches. It is not infrequent that staff members of local churches take the role of spokespersons. However, this is not necessarily because they consider themselves as representatives of the community. Rather, as Mike said of himself, they stand up and address the audience as a form of one-off service, in order to give their contribution for the meeting to proceed.

Mike: I am not a chief, but our friend here, Harold, asked us to pray, and I wanted

to help. And I wanted to thank him for coming. We are looking forward to

hearing what you have come to tell us. (…) You might think that this is not

our home, but it is! We are from Malaita, we own land in Malaita, but now

we own land in Guadalcanal too! And I also want to welcome everyone

who is joining us today, people from Gilbert Camp, people who came from

up here [outside the town boundary], people who come from up there

[inside the town boundary], people who came to listen, because we must not

live here in anguish. We must feel secure in the place where we live, and we

must make sure we claim our right to security [of land tenure]. That’s what I

wanted to tell you all, in order to make sure that no one will come to tell you

lies. I also would like to thank this ara’ikwao! Thank you for coming to listen.

I hope that you will record what we will talk about.

142 Rodolfo: Am I allowed to?

Mike: Yes, I do allow you.

Mike looked confident when he said, “We are from Malaita, we own land in

Malaita, but now we own land in Guadalcanal too!” What he meant depended largely on what particular perspective he was taking, whom was he referring to as ‘mifala’ (we), and what he implied by using the term ‘onim’ (to own). By using the term ‘we’, was he speaking of the community as a whole, a specific group, or a particular family? I tend to think that

Mike was speaking of the community as a whole, because at that point he was acting like a political leader. But after that initial outburst, he never spoke again for the rest of the meeting. However, what he said can be helpful to understand the second and third cause of confusion, namely the difficulty of identifying the right way of accessing land, as well as the “real landowner”. That is what he was hinting at when he said that he wanted to make sure nobody would tell “lies”.

The ‘truth’ about land is a subject of current discussion in Gilbert Camp. Some groups claim their right to reside in a given area on the basis of their alleged relationship with an alleged “landowner”. Others uphold their connections with a neighbouring group whom they believe has established an equivalent connection. Others claim a connection with a “landowner” that was established by their ancestors, and which they inherited. But these ideas are socially relevant only as long as there is some consensus. During the meeting such consensus was lacking, and thus concepts such as “we” and “own” did not have as much rhetorical power as the discourse of a chief would have had. Thus, despite the fact that Mike did present the point of view of the settlers, his points were largely dismissed because he was lacking the rhetorical power to make his claims sound representative.

143 Besides the lack of leadership, there is another reason why Harold disdained Mike’s points: there is no simple definition of land in Gilbert Camp. Thus, the policy maker, the civil servant, or whoever is in charge of dealing with land, tends to impose a set of ideas that he sees as more coherent and self-contained than the complex intricacy of political, historical, administrative, social, economic, and cultural issues that revolve around land.

Confronted with such complexity, officials like Harold prefer their tidy models.

However, “bigfala konfius” does not result from lack of coherence and consistency.

Rather, it can be examined for what it is, i.e. as a complex convolution of political, historical, administrative, social, economic, and cultural issues. Such an examination reveals that land is first and foremost a concept whose contextual definition depends on the interactions between people. Thus, it is impossible to understand land in Gilbert Camp (or even try to do something about it, as Harold was doing) without listening to the point of view of its inhabitants.

In order to understand how people experience land, it is necessary to live in the community, listen to their life stories, and see how they react when the issue of land is elicited. The meeting was a temporary opportunity to gain these insights from the participants. But such opportunity was mostly wasted, which is the main reason why the meeting perpetuated the legacy of confusion. In particular, in the next section I show that it did so by failing to address the issue of the ‘right’ way of accessing land.

2) “I paid once”: how to access land?

Harold had his own agenda, laid out in his project calendar, which apparently required that incompatible ideas relating with land had to be ignored. He dismissed the points of view of his interlocutors when he perceived that these were not falling within his set of priorities.

144 That is shown in the excerpt below, which followed Mike’s approval of my request to record the meeting.

Harold: Eh eh! Yes, I see that many of you know the white man. He came a

couple of months ago to the office, and asked for some information. I

understood that he was a schoolboy, trying to find information for his

assignment, and so I decided to help him out. Anyway, we are not here for

him, we are here for this [pointing at the board]. You see these areas? They

are called TOL. T stands for Temporary, O stands for Occupation, and L

for Licence. It is like a driving licence. Is there anyone here who holds a

driving licence? Yes? When did you pay for it? Have you paid for it just

once, or do you need to pay for it every year?

John: I paid for it once.

Harold: What? No, my understanding of licence is that a licence is for one year.

Every licence is for one year. Unless it is a licence to marry! That one is a

lifetime one!

Some laughed. Others remained serious, for as Harold was casting John’s comment as irrelevant to the discussion, he was also dismissing the point of view of many. Indeed, the issue of one-off payments is of paramount importance for the people in Gilbert Camp.

One recurrent subject of discussion is whether payments made to “landowners” and government officials are valid, complete, definitive, or not. These doubts revolve around a debate concerning the ‘right’ way to access land. In saying that he only paid once, John was also drawing attention to his perspective about payments in general, and payments of land in particular. In other words, he was asking: “if I have already paid once, why pay again?”

145 The validity of land payments in Gilbert Camp is usually discussed in relation to the agreements between Benjamin Ko’oru’u, and Barnabas O’ai (see chapter 2). People’s opinions concerning the validity of that payment are largely formed by their customary ideas pertaining to accessing land, and to their understanding of analogous ideas in

Guadalcanal kastom, which they see as very similar. In the following paragraphs, I look at both sets of ideas. Since my aim here is to illustrate why people in Gilbert Camp consider that payment valid, I only present a very brief discussion of customary laws pertaining to land in Kwara’ae and Guadalcanal, which certainly does not do justice to their complexity.

According to Kwara’ae kastom, land is managed and spoken of by the leader of a clan, which is the eldest male living member of a given patrilineage. He decides what is to be done with the land and all the things that grow and are built on it. At the same time, he negotiates these issues with the members of the clan, and with the leaders of other related clans.

Falafala ana ano ‘i Kwara’ae (the tradition of land in Kwara’ae, cf. Burt & Kwa’ioloa,

1992) includes prescriptions applying also in case of migration. In the past, migration inside and outside Malaita was normally practised, and kastom regulated the settlement accordingly. It is possible to buy primary rights over a piece of land through the gift of shell money and food. Whether or not this principle corresponds to the original kastom is a matter of debate among Kwara’ae people. However, some insist that accessing primary rights was the rationale for Benjamin’s gift of food to Barnabas. They insist because they think that norms pertaining to migration and settlement are essentially identical in Kwara’ae and North-western Guadalcanal. Thus, they generally believe that their settlement in

Gilbert Camp was legitimated by that transaction. Indeed, notwithstanding important differences, customary ways of accessing land are essentially similar in Guadalcanal.

146 The main difference is that Guadalcanal customary law prescribes that ownership of land is associated to a particular matrilineage, rather than patrilineage. In the Giana region of North-western Guadalcanal, duli is the Garia term used to indicate these named matrilineages (see Fig. 4.1). Nowadays, Guale people translate this term with the Pidgin word ‘traeb’. People who are connected to the duli through kinship ties can claim to have rights to the land associated to it. Primary rights are inherited by the children of a woman who is the oldest of her tina, or family, but only her eldest daughter will transmit these rights to her own children, including classificatory ones. The other children inherit secondary rights, such as residence and cultivation. From this description, major differences are rather self-evident. However, as mentioned above, customary ways of accessing land are also very similar in North-western Guadalcanal and the Kwara’ae district.

A Guadalcanal man or a woman who married into a given clan, i.e. a sub-section of the duli, referred to as vuvungu by Garia speakers, can obtain the right to reside and cultivate the land of another duli. A person without kinship connections to any vuvungu, can also obtain the right to use land of another group if he or she performs a chupu, a traditional ceremony involving a public offering of foodstuff and valuables from one party to another.

Figure 4.1 Matrilineal inheritance in North-western Guadalcanal

147 Because people in Gilbert Camp recognize similarities between this kind of chupu and their own traditional ways of accessing land, and because they think Benjamin offered a chupu to Barnabas, they insist that the current “landowner” should recognize the validity of that payment. That is what Mike meant when he said, “We are from Malaita, we own land in Malaita, but now we own land in Guadalcanal too!”

That does not mean, however, that they are unwilling to negotiate new agreements.

More unpretentiously, they would like the original chupu to be acknowledged, because they fear that otherwise they will constantly find themselves being regarded as squatters, and required to pay again and again. It follows that the problem of recognition is crucial.

Dismissal, in turn, perpetuates confusion and insecurity.

It follows that it would have been worth investigating why John thought that a one- off payment was enough. Harold might have found out that the reason why people in

Gilbert Camp do not pay their TOL is that they are not sure whether the original payment

(according to the popular version) is valid or not. But the point was ignored, and it was not going to be discussed any further.

After failing to address that issue, Harold spoke for long time about the way TOL payments work, specifying that they are not intended to be one-off, and that those who failed to pay in the past had to pay arrears. That was all he had to say. At that point,

Terence raised his hand. His straight arm and rigid body expressed his affliction.

3) “You are not the real landowner, I am afraid”

Terence was born in Gilbert Camp in the late 1970s. He was raised as an Anglican but turned to Pentecostal Christianity when the first church of the Assemblies of God (AOG) was built in Gilbert Camp. Recently, he left that church and created his own Pentecostal

148 congregation, the second AOG church in Gilbert Camp. He is not considered authoritative anyhow, but his charismatic character pushed him to step up and speak up.

Harold: Someone is raising a hand, yes?

Terence: I need to register my title. I think that everyone here has my same

problem, right my brothers? Should I also talk about my bills, so that you

know what amount my bill is, then you would be very surprised. So it is! If

the government cries, then I cry too, man! The government should help

me, but it only shows up to complain! I have so many bills that I can hardly

pay them! You talked about your things, but I am confused about this land.

I was born here in the 1970s. I think that if we could tell the story about

how that man from Guadalcanal allowed that man from Malaita to settle

here,3 I think that we would be able to tell you the truth!

However, concerning what you say about us being required to pay these arrears, I

think that the government thinks we are sources [of income]. The

government needs our help, but we also need the help of the government!

Now, what we know is that the government owns the town land, right? The

government owns land up to that point up there. But here it is different. I

know, because I was born here. Here you cannot really know the value of

the land. If you had told me that the land I want costs 20,000 dollars, then I

would know, and would work to buy it. But here, land is different, you

cannot really know. So, I am afraid of paying for it. In case I give you 100

3 He is referring to Benjamin Ko’oru’u and Barnabas O’ai; see chapter 2.

149 dollars, this does not mean that I become the owner! So? It is still a

temporary thing, right? I would not be the owner, and I will be afraid!

You, when you get 100 dollars from everyone, you will have 30,000 dollars for you,

and then, if you want you can bring us documents that demonstrate that the

land is actually owned by some men who have more money than us! That is

our fear. And I am speaking on the behalf of all these people here! What I

would like you to do, Mr Chairman,4 is that you put a price for us to pay,

and that we all pay it, so that we know that this is our land. (…) But who

owns the land? Who takes the money? What is the price of the land? This

is what I wanted to say, my brother! I am afraid to give you 100 dollars,

until you find out who the real landowner is.

Harold: Thank you. Although I was born in the 1970s too, I do not know the

story of this place. But I will reply in this way: if you want to pay for the

land to whomever, you can do it. That is not my business.

After dismissing Terence’s concerns as ‘not his business’, Harold moved back to his own project agenda. In contrast, I think that in Terence’s speech it is possible to identify the third cause of confusion: the identity of the “landowner”. Apart from emphasising, once again, that confusion surrounds land payments, he explained that people are also afraid of paying the wrong person. That is because they are demanded payments by a number of Guadalcanal men who simultaneously claim to be the “landowner”.

4 Kwara’ae people often make use of expressions such as ‘Your Majesty’, ‘Mr Chairman’, ‘Your Highness’, because they translate terms that are often used in Kwara’ae to address an interlocutor in public debate. These are ngwai’futa’nou (my brother), ngwe’a’an (big man), or aufìa (majesty), aufia’keim (our highness). These are all terms that are intended to place the interlocutor above the speaker.

150 Valeriano Chualu is one of these. He is the son of Barnabas O’ai, the chief of the

Kakau tribe who negotiated the settlement of the first Malaitan migrant in Gilbert Camp.

He is also Chairman of the Tandai Tribal Landowner Association, created to represent the ownership rights of the Tandai people of North-western Guadalcanal. He regularly interacts with government representatives as well as with people in the urban and peri- urban settlements. He is trying to negotiate an agreement that would give the Tandai people the right to extract a rent from the settlers.

Then there is Jacob Samonima, a grandchild of Goso, the chief of a local tribe. He considers himself to be the chief of the Mataniko village, situated in Honiara. As such, he thinks he is legitimately entitled to extract a rent from the Gilbert Camp settlers. He does not interact with the government, and did not attend the workshops organized by James to ascertain who has landownership rights in Honiara and beyond. Yet, he negotiated with numerous settlers for their access to land in Gilbert Camp. Does this suggest that Jacob has no ownership title? I argue that he belongs to a category of self-declared “landowners” who are currently taking advantage of knowledge imbalances to extort payments from settlers.

Recently, Jacob demanded a payment from the people of Gilbert Camp. They say that they had already paid, towards the end of the 1980s, when they offered him a chupu of three trucks filled with commodities. After days of walking around Honiara, I finally found

Jacob and interviewed him. He denied that people in Gilbert Camp organized a chupu for him or his father. Those who say the chupu took place are very annoyed by the fact that

Jacob denies now. They are unwilling to pay any further, because they insist that they already have. However, some actually paid him “again”. They say they did so out of fear

151 of being evicted. But when I asked them if they were sure that Jacob was the real

“landowner”, they said they were not.

In summary, people in Gilbert Camp do not know who they should pay to gain access to land. They are afraid of paying the wrong person, wasting money, and soon having to pay another alleged “landowner”, perhaps the “real” one, or a government official like Harold. Thus, they do not know whether they should pay or not, whether they are interacting with the right person or not, whether their residence will be questioned again after the money is transferred, or not. When one looks at such an unclear situation from their point of view, it becomes rather unsurprising that Terence cried his “bigfala konfius” out.

However, like John and Mike, Terence was not given any further opportunity to articulate his anxieties. On the other hand, as a lay member of the community, he did not feel he had the right to stand up and speak again on the behalf of the community. The point, however, is that Harold did not investigate the issues Terence raised, thereby contributing to maintain a general misrecognition of the different points of view on land.

It was in such an atmosphere of general bewilderment that the meeting went on, until a further source of confusion was raised, that of the town boundary.

4) “Where is the town boundary?”

The town boundary is an imaginary line virtually drawn around Honiara for administrative purposes. Its position is of crucial importance for the people of Gilbert Camp. The way in which the state regards them, their status as residents or squatters, the identity of their interlocutors, and the process to obtain rights of residence depend firstly on whether people reside inside or outside of it.

152 The land that lies within the town boundary (see Map 4.1) is the area of competence of the HCC, whereas everything that remains outside it falls under the jurisdiction of the

GPG. The Council wants to extend the boundary, because that would provide the national government with more land for its own purposes. In contrast, the GPG does not want to move the boundary further because it aims at protecting the interests of the indigenous population. One of the benefits of the extension, for the Council, would be a better handling of the expanding urban settlements. The GPG, in turn, wants to protect the landownership rights of the indigenous population. Thus, it would resist any attempt by the Council to extend the boundary unless the national government deliberates on the procedures to protect the rights of the landowners.

Without agreement between the two sides of this negotiation, the town boundary is a subject of continuous debate. The consequences of such debate are of utmost importance for the people of Gilbert Camp, and that is why Joses eventually took the stage and asked the following question.

Joses: I want to say something: we are not all living on government land. Some of

us live inside, some outside it. Can you explain where exactly the boundary

lies, so that we can understand if we have to pay the TOL?

Joses was among the first men who came to the area. He contributed to building the first Anglican church in Gilbert Camp, where he lived for many years. Now he lives in

Malaita, where he runs a small coconut oil company. What granted him the authority to speak was not only his reputation as a businessman, but also his seniority. He probably knew more about the land issue in Gilbert Camp than anyone else, except for Harold.

153 Harold: The line of the town boundary passes from that big tree, and cuts across

the settlement more or less where the Anglican school is, which is outside

the boundary together with the Anglican Church.

Map 4.1 The town boundary according to Harold

That was accurate enough. Nowadays the town boundary includes the west bank of the River Lunga, Tuvaruhu, Mt. Austen, up to White River, in the western part of Honiara

(see Map 2.3). However, the reason why Joses asked that question is not simply that he wanted to know where the boundary is now. Solomon Islanders who have lived in Honiara long enough to observe the continuous relocations of the town boundary, know well that its position is all but stable. Initially, the boundary included the Rove area. Then, it moved to include the Lever’s area. In the mid-1960s, it was further extended from Kukum out to

Burns Creek. All Solomon Islanders know that these continuous relocations are largely out of control. A Guadalcanal man once declared “The Honiara land which our government owns started from Rove; […] Now tell me, where is the current town boundary? It has

154 expanded more than 10 times from the actual land acquired” (TRC, 2013: 1084). “More than 10 times” is a hyperbolic statement that gives the measure of this man’s frustration, who feels that such continuous displacement is not in the interest of Solomon Islanders.

Given the contextual and unpredictable nature of the town boundary, confronting the issue of paying for a land title is rather confusing from the point of view of a Gilbert

Camp settler. I have come across many instances of such distress. For instance, Gordon was afraid of paying his TOL because he could not predict the movements of the land boundary. He had built his house outside the town boundary in the 1970s. Later, he heard that the boundary had moved and his area had been incorporated within the urban belt. He did not pay a “landowner” when he built his house, nor did he pay his TOL later. He is afraid that the town boundary will move back again. Should that happen, he thinks that his eventual TOL payment would be invalidated, that he would lose his money, and that he would have to pay the “landowner” as well. So, he is waiting.

To take another example, George affirms he paid Jacob Samonima at the time his house still laid outside the town boundary, and that he will not pay again now that he resides within the urban belt. He believes that he is being treated unfairly by the State, or, to phrase it in his own words, by “those who keep demanding money from us”.

Cyril, finally, did not know his house was within the town boundary when he mistakenly paid SBD$ 5,000 SBD to Jacob Samonima. As a consequence, he was very depressed after hearing what Harold said.

These stories exemplify the perception that the town boundary is a source of uncertainty and confusion. Landowners and government officials demand that people in

Gilbert Camp pay for residence permits as if the limits and, thus, the nature of land were objective and stable. When people confront their requests, they are confused, for the

155 perception of their interlocutors is so different from their own. A boundary, indeed, is largely a result of perception, relationships, and strategies (Lamont and Molnár, 2002).

The people of Gilbert Camp have their own ideas regarding the nature of the town boundary, the way it ‘behaves’ and what to expect from it. For them, it is an invisible line that moves independently of their will, but which has a critical impact on their lives.

Harold’s depiction of the town boundary as a stable and objective separation between administrative areas hardly calmed their anxieties. Joses asked him about the position of the land boundary, but how could he be sure that Harold was not just concealing insider information, such as current negotiations between the HCC and the GPG for a further displacement of the town boundary?

These different perceptions can be related to positions and roles of those sitting in the meeting (see Plate 4.1). On the right hand side, those who make and implement the law; on the other, those who were demanded to conform to it. The perceptions of the former were based on their knowledge of the history of land policy in Solomon Islands, by reports published by the national government, and by the countless maps stuck on the walls of the

Ministry of Land. In contrast, the point of view of those who attended the meeting was formed by their personal experience, which is based largely on stories of disappointment, frustration, and confusion.

From my account it seems relatively clear that Harold’s answers and attitude did not clarify the issue of land. Rather, he contributed to increasing confusion on at least three matters: who the “landowner” is, how settlers can gain access to land, and where the town boundary is. His attitude, as we shall see, is not a recent development. It is a legacy from the past, which greatly influences the perception of land by the part of Solomon Islanders.

In order to support such a claim, I contextualise this case study within the history of land

156 policies in Solomon Islands to show that, while land policies keep changing, the disregard for the indigenous point of view is constant.

2. Brief history of Land in Solomon Islands

1) 1893-1945: from Protectorate to the Second World War

Historically, Solomon Islanders have always considered their land to be of paramount importance, in both practical and symbolic terms. For example, the Baegu of Malaita referred to their territory as “our land” and not as the land of a particular person or family

(Ross, 1973: 159), thereby expressing the power of land to represent collective identity.

Regarding the practical uses of land, these included cultivation of horticultural gardens, hunting, building of houses, burial of passed-away relatives, collection of firewood, feeding pigs, gathering of economic trees, worshipping forefathers, officiating sacrifices, divination, and collection of medical plants (Zoleveke, 1997: 1).

Different Solomon Islands societies have put distinct customary norms for the allocation of land and land rights in place. Be it through patrilineal or matrilineal descent lines, Solomon Islanders inherited their land from their ancestors, and believed that this gave them a set of rights in its regard. The definition of land, its relative boundaries, and its associated rights, thus, rested on customary law.

Before imperial legislative reform began, traders, planters, and speculators acquired land directly from the people who resided on it. Later, in 1893, Britain established a protectorate on the archipelago and the British land policy was progressively introduced.

Under the Pacific Order in Council 1893, no other foreign power had the legal authority to manage resources in Solomon Islands but the British Solomon Islands Protectorate (BSIP).

The BSIP had the power, but needed to finance its structure, because the money allocated

157 by the Crown was insufficient. Thus, Resident Commissioner Charles Woodford allowed foreign companies to purchase areas of territory for their economic activities, and the colonial government itself began to do business with local resources (Foukona, 2007).

All this happened in a sort of legislative void, as the Pacific Order in Council 1893 did not specify how to deal with land cases. Customary land administration started to become the focus of more attention only later. The first law for the alienation of customary land was the Queen’s Regulation No.4 of 1896, which made it possible for non- natives to purchase land for trade and agriculture from Solomon Islanders with the approval from the colonial administration.

However, there was an alternative way to obtain land that did not require dealing with indigenous people at all: declaring it to be a sort of no man’s land. Under the Queen’s

Regulation No.3 of 1900, the administration started to alienate areas of customary land with the purpose of generating capital. That was the beginning of a period commonly referred to as that of the “wasteland regulations”. With the expression ‘waste land’, the regulation indicated any land that was not claimed, cultivated, or occupied by any native or non-native

(Bennett 1987: 131), and which the colonial government was “entitled” to take away from the control of Solomon Islanders.

However, land that was seen as vacant by a European, and classified as “waste land” by the British administration, was not considered as such by the indigenous people.

They might not live there, nor cultivate a garden in there, but they might still value it and consider it as their land, i.e. land that they inherited from their ancestors. And that land could also be of practical use to them. That was the case of the Tandai area of North- western Guadalcanal, which was alienated on the basis of its classification as ‘waste land’, whereas it was sasapa for the Guale people, literally ‘hunting ground’. Since the very

158 beginning, thus, land dealings in the area took place on the basis of a fundamental misunderstanding of the indigenous point of view.

That was not an isolated case, indeed. Woodford was never seriously committed to verifying that the land was of no use to the indigenous population (Ibid.; see also S.

Williams, 2011). Foukona argued that it was “Woodford’s economic aim to generate more revenue for the Protectorate [that] made him favourably disposed to alienation of customary land” (Foukona, 2007: 65). From this initial sketch, it is possible to identify a general divergence of views.

Firstly, those initial legislative attempts to regulate access to land did not consider what exactly land was in the eyes of the indigenous population. Secondly, the process through which land was acquired did not take into account customary regulations that had been used until then to modulate land access and usage. Thirdly, policies of land alienation assumed it was possible to individualise ownership of land, contrary to indigenous ideas concerning access and residence. My choice to use the term “landowner” within inverted commas throughout this chapter is intended to represent the influence that this state of affairs had on a debate about land that still continues today.

The unsophisticated land policy during the wasteland period resulted in an increase in the number of land disputes. As a consequence, in 1914 the government decided that no further sale of land to expatriates was permitted, and the Philips’ commission was set up to return the land that had been wrongfully alienated to its original “landowners”. From 1919,

Judge Phillips heard 55 claims against land alienation and returned large tracts of land. But the number of claims increased rapidly over the years, making it very difficult for the commission to administer all return procedures. All in all, the initial years of land policy and administration in Solomon Islands can be described with the words of Peter Larmour,

159 as years “of continuous review, interspersed with brief periods of implementation that was usually hampered by staff shortages” (Larmour, 1979: 105).

2) 1945-1978: from the end of the Second World War to Independence

After the war the capital of the BSIP was transferred to Honiara, where some land had already been alienated.5 Part of the land in west Honiara was purchased from a private company, Mamara Plantation, and part from people living in Kakabona (West of the town) and Mataniko (in the centre) who claimed to be the “landowners”. On the east side, United

States forces had developed an airfield and other infrastructure, whereas the Levers business group and the Catholic Church occupied the adjacent areas.6

During the 1950s, the Allan Commission started to improve the policy by distinguishing three types of land and related regulations: alienated land, owned in written title; customary land, customarily owned; and, again, vacant land. It is worth noting that the 1961 Land Trust board found no land to which this last category would apply.7

Registration of land was encouraged with the Land and Titles Ordinance 1959. However, administration costs, lack of personnel and distance between concerned areas hindered the application of these policies, again.

In the latter days of the Protectorate, customary land was highly valued and strongly defended by Solomon Islanders. The indigenous engagement with the land regulations had influential outcomes in terms of legislation and political achievements. Two years before independence, for instance, the Report of the Select Committee on Lands and Mining

5 Cf. Oram, 1980; Storey, 2003. 6 Ibid. 7 Cf. Larmour, 1979.

160 recommended that the government had to return all areas it had acquired before 1963 to the descendants of the “original landowners”.

However, far from re-establishing the initial situation, the 1960s policies resulted in the opposite. The conditions in which the inheritors regained access to their lands were very different from the time when that land had been acquired. In Honiara, for example, the population tripled between 1959 and 1970, marriage linkages expanded, and became much more complex. Since kinship and land rights are inextricably intertwined, the number of people who could virtually assert their right to a single territory increased dramatically (Bathgate, 1993a: 19; 1993b: 189). In order to better understand how the expansion and complexification of kinship networks had an impact on land, it is necessary to look more closely into Guadalcanal history and customary law.

Oral histories collected by Bathgate among Guale people in North-western

Guadalcanal (Bathgate, 1985) indicate that residential groups in this area used to establish three to four settlements in a single generation. Each of these groups was formed of people belonging to two duli. Marrying within one’s own matrilineage was prohibited, as marriage was exogamous (Bathgate, 1993b: 755). As a consequence, land rights kept circulating within a restricted network made up of people belonging to one pair of duli.

Pairs were also migrating together, occasionally. But when connubial networks expanded as a consequence of immigration, kinship networks “were no longer reciprocally reinforced within a confined network of two cognatically and affinally linked groups” (Monson, 2012:

235). That made the recognition of “original landowners” even more difficult to ascertain.

Guadalcanal customary laws pertaining to marriage and land could hardly apply within such a context. The increased number of people from other provinces who married in North-western Guadalcanal, especially Malaita, dislocated the traditional association of

161 pairs of duli to land. It follows that when the number of people who married the migrants became predominant, recognizing the “landowner” within each residential unit became very difficult. When the woman connecting the residential unit to its land area was living elsewhere, that became almost impossible. Yet this is precisely what frequently happened, due to some features of Guadalcanal marriage prescriptions such as virilocality. How could those areas acquired before 1963 return to the descendants of the original owners if it was so difficult to find out who these descendants were?

3) 1978-1998: from Independence to the “Ethnic Tensions”

With Independence, it was stipulated that only Solomon Islanders could hold perpetual estates. At the same time, the issues of provincial autonomy, internal migration, and control over local resources dominated constitutional debates. However, while seven provincial governments were established in 1981 following the pressing demands for greater devolution of political authority, control over local resources and restrictions on internal migration policies were still deficient. This is the time in which expressions of resentment and distrust towards migrants started to become a regular occurrence in public life in

Honiara as well as Guadalcanal rural areas (Dinnen, 2008). Although the Tensions were still far away, more daily, regular tensions about migrant access to land were slowly spreading.

The necessity to control migration in the archipelago soon became central to the political debate, as illustrated in the Report of the 1987 Constitutional Review Committee.

The view was widespread that Malaitan migrants had been abusing their right to freely move around the national territory by settling “without the proper consent of the landowners” (Mamaloni, 1987; see also Chapman, 1992: 94). The recommendations that

162 the Committee made to appease anxieties relating to migration, resources and devolution of power went largely unheard (Monson, 2012; Ghai, 1990; Scales, 2007.).

In 1988, the national government received a document entitled “Petition by the

Indigenous People of Guadalcanal”. The authors accused Malaitans to be the perpetrators of violent offences against Guale people, grieved for the use that migrants were making of their land. They blamed the government for the unfair distribution of benefits emerging from land development in Honiara, and demanded that Parliament take “immediate steps” to repatriate all “illegal squatters” (Gatu, 2004: 189). Land was the central issue. The petitioners wanted the legislation to permit the GPG to have full control over all land that had been alienated in the past, including Honiara.

However, the petition represented only one side of the picture. Not all migrants had necessarily settled out of bare disrespect of the law, be it constitutional or customary.

Initially, the first few migrants had been settling on government land under TOL (Storey,

2003: 259). Then, when settlements began to spill over from town land onto customary land, they had to negotiate their settlement with the “landowners”. Although it is very difficult to obtain reliable information regarding land agreements between settlers and

“landowners”, it seems that these were drawn and validated with transactions involving cash, as well as customary gift-exchanges.8 Allegedly, that was the case of Gilbert Camp.

Traditionally, transactions such as chupu are recorded in the form of oral history.

This resulted in transactions being easily contestable in constitutional legal cases.

Therefore, the government tended to delegate local courts for the resolution of land

8 See, Kama, 1979: 152; Fraenkel, 2004: 57.

163 disputes. However, arguably because of the increasing monetized value of land,9 it became more and more difficult to ascertain whether the transaction took place or not, on what conditions, and whether it was legitimate or not (Monson, 2011). Some self-declared landowners struck deals with settlers for short-term gains without the authority to do so.

This balances the picture of a Malaitan ‘other’ as the single-minded perpetrator of a disrespectful attitude towards Guadalcanal customary laws. Rather than deliberately using the land of the Guale people for their own interests, some Malaitans genuinely believed they were acquiring rights to residence and cultivation according to customary and/or constitutional law. That is not to say that all settlers can be justified. During the 1970s, indeed, the provincial government had issued many ‘notices to leave’. But it could not take action because it lacked legal power of eviction.

Later, with the eviction of more than 20,000 people between 1998 and 2003, the situation boiled down to a tabula rasa. Once more, this added nothing but further confusion. The Tensions had come to represent a sort of symbolic division between two eras. They marked the end of a confusing situation, characterised by the restitution of land within a context of complexification of connubial networks, just to give way to a more confusing one. Upon returning to the area where they had been living until they were displaced, migrants were not sure whether or not the Tensions had altered their supposed agreements with the supposed “landowners”, if any. At the same time, it had become clear to everyone that land can be very dangerous if different points of view about it are not acknowledged and mediated.

9 Tamakoshi observed that “when land has a price” (Zimmer-Tamakoshi, 1997), the identity of particular social groups and/or individuals, and their relationships might be emphasized and/or de- emphasised in order to advance claims for the wealth associated with land.

164 4) 2003-2012: from the end of the Ethnic Tensions to Present

During the Townsville Peace Agreement, which officially marked the end of the Tensions in October 2000, the Malaitan delegation demanded that Malaitans who had been evicted from Guadalcanal were given employment as reparation. Responding to the request, the

Ministry of Agriculture proposed to make customary land available for an oil palm plantation. The land chosen for this project was in the Auluta Basin, at the eastern end of

Malaita. The appointed taskforce identified issues of landownership and submitted a proposal to register the area. This initiative became a pilot project that prompted a broader scheme of technical assistance funded by AusAID, the Solomon Islands Institutional

Strengthening Land Assistance Project (SIISLAP).

Between 2000 and 2007, SIILAP helped the Ministry of Land, Housing and Surveys to set up a project aimed at the conversion of TOLs into FTEs. Initially, although the project only regarded a small proportion of settlements in Honiara, about 350 FTEs were offered to settlers, regardless of whether they previously held their TOL or not. The next step was taken in 2007, when Harold took up the lead as Coordinator of a project entitled

“Regularisation of Unauthorized Occupied Public Land in Honiara”. The project moved from the contention, ascertained during surveys conducted in 2006, that more than “90% of residents living on public land within Honiara do so without any government approval”.10 To tackle this situation, as we have seen in the first section, the project aimed at the conversion of TOLs into FTEs, conditional upon first obtaining the TOL itself.

Gilbert Camp was among the surveyed areas, and although its annual growth rate (10%)

10 [No listed author]. 2006. Regularisation of Unauthorized Occupied Public Land in Honiara: A Project Proposal. Solomon Islands, Department of Lands and Surveys.

165 was lower than the average, squatter settlements had been growing at an annual rate of 26% between 2003 and 2006.

In 2012 Harold came to Gilbert Camp with the intention to complete the project.

As described in the first section, members of the Gilbert Camp community were confused, and what he said did not clear out their doubts. He, in turn, looked confident and rather surprised, even suspicious, of their confusion. In his eyes, they were well aware of their wrongdoing and responsibilities, and just needed to be informed about the required steps to regularise their position. For him, it sufficed to ascertain whether they were living on alienated or customary land to know what they needed to do. For them, not quite so.

Although he was an expert in the history of land regulations in Solomon Islands, and a Malaitan himself, he was not looking at land from the point of view of the Gilbert

Camp settlers. For them land was not alienated, customary, registered, or else. For them the town boundary was not visible, stable and objective. For them, land was not something that you can enclose into a definition and expect it to remain fenced into it. During the years, the meaning of land changed so frequently and so significantly that they learnt to think about it as an entity that deserves to be treated with circumspection.

That is the common denominator among the totality of points of view of the settlers. Some have been more affected by the Tensions, and would just say: “this is not our land, we are squatters”. Some have been more influenced by their own relationship with the Guale people, and would say: “we are from Malaita, but we are from here too!” In other words, it is not possible to give a simple and pithy answer to the question, “what is land in the eyes of people living in Gilbert Camp?” Rather than answering the question, my analysis suggests that the terms of the question are biased.

166 Some arrived in Gilbert Camp, and settled where their relatives were living. “If our relatives could, why couldn’t we?” That is what they thought. Some were born in Gilbert

Camp, and lived in areas that they always considered to be land on which they could live because their parents had done so. Some heard of a payment that was made to the chief of a local tribe, like Clement, who first told me the story of the first chupu. Some, like Ramo, believed that the payment made by Ko’oru’u gave them the right to reside forever. Some, like George, believed that the first chupu only bought them a temporary right to land use.

Some, like Gordon, believed that the payment recently made by others was sufficient to extend such right of use, even if they were not residing on their same area. Some believed that the payment made by Ko’oru’u required periodical renewals, like Manasseh, who was in touch with a self-declared “landowner” and was sending gifts to him every now and then. Some, like Justin, were not sure who the renewals should be paid to. Some said they had made the payment themselves, like Betty, who gave SBD$ 6,000 to another self- declared “landowner”.

Among those who say they had made the payment, some were paid out by others.

Jane, for example, acquired the land of her sister Rhoda in exchange for SBD$ 10,000.

Rhoda had originally paid SBD $6,000 for that very same area.11 Robert believed that the payment he made gave him perpetual ownership, whereas Josefina, who had also paid out of her own pocket, felt she had to renew her payment with periodical gifts. Nancy also thought so, but she never had the opportunity to renew her offerings, as the man she had paid never showed up again. Cyril did not make any payment. “This matter doesn’t look

11 This case is investigated further in chapter 5.

167 right to me!” 12 he said to me once. Like him, many decided not to pay at all because they found this situation too confusing.

Harold’s attitude towards the issues raised by the participants at the meeting did not improve their understanding of the situation. As a consequence, I tend to think that the meeting was only the last episode of a history characterised by confusion resulting from the systematic disregard for the indigenous perspective on land.

Harold concluded the meeting saying that the land outside the town boundary was not his business. That area of land belongs to the category of registered customary land, owned in perpetuity by the people of Guadalcanal, and more specifically by the members of the Tandai Tribal Landowner Association. So, technically speaking, Harold was right in stating that what happened outside the town boundary was beyond his competence. It was the business of James Kini’afe.

In the next section, I show that the land policy that James is currently implementing adds two more layers of confusion to the already complex issue of land.

3. “In Guadalcanal it’s complicated”: Male ownership? Female inheritance?

James Kini’afe is another government representative employed by the Ministry of Lands,

Housing and Survey. His assignment was to find out who has landownership rights in and around Honiara. He organised a series of workshops, which I attended along with chiefs of the North-western Guadalcanal area and members of local landowners associations. That series of workshops suggested that the situation in North-western Guadalcanal contributes to the confusion that Gilbert Camp people feel about land. I identified two causes for that.

12 S.I. Pidgin: “Lo main blo mi, diswan hemi no stret!”

168 Firstly, Guadalcanal men are trying to appropriate landownership rights that in their matrilineal inheritance system is a women’s prerogative. Arguably, one cause of the arrogation of landownership rights by the part of men is that this matrilineal system separates land inheritance and male corporate action. More precisely, the cause is the current developments of that ancient customary arrangement.

Secondly, government officials see matrilineal inheritance system as unfit for their plans. Land officers such as James consider patrilineal inheritance as more suitable to their administrative projects, and contribute to the abrogation of matrilineal descent. In so doing, they also contribute to the rise of disputes such as the one between men and women, thereby adding another layer of confusion.

Plate 4.2 Valeriano receiving a chupu, Honiara, March 28th, 2012

169 1) Men (try to) exclude women from landownership negotiations

On the 28th of March 2012, James organised a ceremony and a series of workshops to ascertain the boundaries and ownership of land in Honiara. During the ceremony,

Ministries of the Parliament and other government officials attended, and offered a chupu to five “landowner” associations to formally invite them to negotiate with the government

(see Plate 4.2). In the following weeks, three workshops took place, during which the members of the associations were requested to discuss and provide accounts of the geographical origins of their tribes, the history of their migrations, and any other event considered relevant to ascertain the boundaries of their territory and their ownership rights.

The need for such a meeting arose when land officers found out, as I did in Gilbert Camp, that multiple and contradictory landownership claims are currently being advanced. I attended these workshops and had the opportunity to explore some aspects that complicate the issue of land even more than I discussed above.

During the first workshop, I was surprised to see so many men (more than a hundred) and so few women (only three). It was a meeting about land in a matrilineal society, after all. I was aware of the fact that Guadalcanal men are deputed to speak in land matters, whereas women, although the actual “landowners”, are not supposed to speak.

However, I thought, “If James wants to find out who the real “landowner” is, he should ask Guale women as well, because they would be more knowledgeable of their own genealogies than their fathers, husbands, and brothers, who were born and raised in another area”. I was not the only one who found this to be somehow incongruous.

No later than 30 minutes after the beginning of the workshop, a group of about 30 women erupted into the hall. They were demonstrating against the male hegemony in the administration of land issues in Guadalcanal and asking to participate in the discussion (see

170 Plate 4.3). In the end, that did not happen. Only one of the demonstrators was allowed to attend. The reason given for that, was the lack of seats, which had already been allocated to those who had previously registered. Why were women excluded?

Plate 4.3 Women demonstrating during the workshop, Honiara, April 4th, 2012

The obvious answer would be that men were trying to appropriate their landownership rights for the monetary benefits attached to them. The fact that women were demonstrating, thus, is but a symptom of a general conflict currently taking place in

Honiara. While men negotiate their interests and prerogatives in workshops such as that one, women are getting organised to voice the fundamental contradiction of such procedures. Arguably, by the time men will have managed (following the procedure that

James set out for them) to coordinate their landownership claims, women will have their own version to juxtapose it. It follows that the current reconstruction of landownership accounts in Guadalcanal will not clarify the land issue. It will complicate it even more.

171 However, from the point of view of someone whose objective is identifying landownership, the conflict between Guadalcanal men and women presents a more fundamental ambiguity that hinders the process of clarification.

As mentioned above, according to the customary norms of Guadalcanal, land belongs to the first daughter of a woman who inherited it from her mother. Following the principle of virilocal marriage, when the girl marries she leaves her home and moves to the village of her husband. She is still the owner of her land, and that is why her children tend to move to that land when they grow up, in order to build houses, cultivate gardens, and stay with their maternal relatives. In the meanwhile, her father and brothers have been responsible for the administration of that land. This separation between matrilineal descent and virilocal marriage results in the fact that, while women remain the “landowners”, any negotiation concerning that very land is carried out by men.

Anthropologist Ian Hogbin already pointed out that this kind of social organization created ambiguities.

In societies with patrilineal descent, whether there is one group or many, a man generally spends his life near his brothers, father, paternal uncles and paternal uncles’ sons; in societies with matrilineal descent, at a certain stage a man and his brothers generally move to be with their maternal uncles and maternal aunts’ sons; (...) But important tasks demand more helpers, and for some undertakings a man is grateful for the assistance of a wide circle of kinfolk and affines. The group of men engaged in housebuilding, canoe construction, or weaving the large fishing nets has therefore much the same composition everywhere, regardless of the structural framework. (...) a man from a matrilineal society is perhaps likely to consider that, although his firmest bonds also are with his clan fellows, he is a little closer to his father’s clansmen than to his other relatives. (Hogbin, 1965: 10)

172 Today the dealings with land present problems that seem to be, at least partly, caused by this separation between matrilineal descent and patrilineal corporate action. The evidence analysed by Larmour strengthens this argument. In 1984 he wrote that in

Solomon Islands there was an intrinsic risk that trustees nominated to act on the behalf of a landowning group, such as those who attended the workshops, would “appropriate rights of ownership to themselves” (Larmour, 1984: 8). Years later, Monson took a gender perspective to document how Larmour’s prediction came true in Guadalcanal.

A limited review of land records suggests that it is generally male leaders who speak in land acquisition hearings, and that most titles are registered in the names of male leaders. Thus, while the state legal system is based on the expectation that all landowners will participate in land dealings, this may not be the case, at least in the public arenas established by the state. In addition, while the state legal system requires that the titleholders consult with other landowners before dealing in the land, they often fail to do so. The traditional role of tribal leaders, and the notion that ’women no save tok’,13 has therefore been translated in a manner that limits the role of women within the sphere of the state legal system. (Monson, 2010: 2)

This point explains the apparent contradiction between the claims made by the women who erupted during the workshop and those made by the men who claimed to be the “landowners”. However, the attempt to shift from matrilineal to patrilineal land inheritance in Guadalcanal does not result from men’s ambitions only. It is not just their abuse of a traditional role as spokesperson. The government, and more specifically the land officials who are part of it, have a decisive influence in this matter.

13 S.I. Pidgin: lit. ‘women cannot speak’.

173 2) A preference for patriliny

When I interviewed James, who designed the project for the clarification of landownership and the definition of land boundaries, he did not conceal his preference for the patrilineal system as far as land dealing is concerned. He said that the patrilineal system is more straightforward and clear, and more suitable for the modern regulations of landownership.

He offered an explanation that echoes the problems emerging from the separation between matrilineal descent, virilocality, and patrilineal corporate action already identified by

Hogbin. James said that, as a result of this separation, if a woman wants to claim ownership of her land, she has to refer to men who are much closer to each other than to her. Alternatively, she can appeal to other women. But they reside elsewhere, because they have married out too. So, there is not much she can do if she wants to claim landownership. As a consequence, James (a Guale man himself) disfavours the

Guadalcanal system of matrilineal land inheritance, which he sees as abstruse and problematic compared to the patrilineal system of Malaita. In Malaita, he insists, patrilocality and patrilineal inheritance are so closely entangled that landownership rights can be easily demonstrated by men reciting their genealogy “on the spot”.

James: In Guadalcanal it’s complicated, because if a mother is talking to her

children about the land, the father will be excluded. If the men talk about a

mother’s land, they will exclude her, because she is member of another tribe.

We are not united in a single land, because my land is the land of my

mother, not that of my wife. In order to gain primary rights on land, the

brother of the landowner’s husband must marry their daughter. This is

possible because the man’s brother is from another tribe than that of the

174 man’s wife. (...) In land matters, women no save tok. Yes, they own the land,

but the men do the talking. Because of the legal implication of representing

the land, now men are more and more identified with the owners, and this is

why the women were demonstrating inside the workshop.

In summary, another reason why the issue of landownership in Guadalcanal is so complex and confusing lies in a policy scheme that allows, and even encourages the attempt of Guadalcanal men to alter the pattern of land inheritance. This convergence of interests makes the search for the “original landowner” of a given area even more difficult.

In Gilbert Camp, those who live outside the town boundary would be very interested to know who is the “landowner” of the area. I was motivated to find that out. I thought I needed that information for my research. And it could be useful for my friends in Gilbert

Camp too. That is why I did my best to identify and track down Jacob Samonima, despite all difficulties. Although he did not take part in the three workshops organised by James, during my interview he claimed to be “the landowner of Gilbert Camp”. However, in the transcription of a court case that I recently accessed and analysed, I noticed that he “did not recall the name of his clan”.14 Why was his memory so fresh when I was interviewing him and so fallacious in front of a Court Judge? Maybe it is because lying to an anthropology student is not a criminal offence?

I had started to be suspicious long before I accessed the transcription of the court case. However, notwithstanding the close examination of several pieces of evidence, I do

14 In order to protect the identity of the concerned party, I will not include the bibliographic details of the material from which I took this citation.

175 not have the proof to demonstrate whether Jacob has a claim of landownership on Gilbert

Camp or not. Even after so many months of data collection and analysis, I am still confused. I can only say that, from the point of view of Solomon Islanders living in Gilbert

Camp, land is a source of much preoccupation, something to be treated with circumspection, and a totally justifiable mistrust.

This chapter attempted to clarify the complex issue of land. My analysis was firstly intended to illustrate the point of view of the settlers, both inside and outside the town boundary. They see the land issue as surrounded by four layers of confusion, which I illustrated in the first section. To use another metaphor, I have been trying to clarify their confusion with the use of three lenses, all three lacking clarity though.

One is the lens created by oral history and personal experience. For the people of

Gilbert Camp, it is not possible to tell whether the agreement between Benjamin and

Barnabas took place or not; if it did, we cannot be sure whether it was valid or not; in case it was valid, the terms of the agreement remain ambiguous. Those who were recently demanded a payment are not in the position to know whether they should pay or not, whether or not the man who demands money is entitled to do so, and whether other people, especially government officials and “landowners” will consider that payment as valid or not.

Another lens is that of the history of land policy and administration. The initial legislative void, the waste land period, the restitutions that followed within a context altered by major social changes, as well as the continuous displacements of the town boundary, the chaos created by the Tensions and the recent registration policies are all events that make land look unstable and unpredictable in the eyes of Solomon Islanders.

176 Finally, the lens grinded by the convergence of interests between Guadalcanal

“landowners” and officials of the national and provincial government provided some insights in their responsibility for the “big confusion”. In conclusion, although my use of these lenses did not provide the answers that the people of Gilbert Camp seek, it disentangled at least some of the causes of their confusion.

These causes of confusion result from a complexity and state of flux in land issues that has parallels in other Pacific Islands. With a broad comparison of regional studies, it is possible to identify at least three general features: (1) major changes in land tenure are relatively recent; (2) in most cases these changes took place rather rapidly; and (3) although land has been strongly defended as a marker of cultural distinctiveness within national political debates, in practice the extent to which ancient customary laws, current laws and regulations, and actual practice differ, has been essentially ignored or reluctantly addressed.

At the same time, tenure arrangements that were already complex during pre-colonial and colonial times have been subjected to new forces, among which a major role is played by population pressure, urbanisation, and an ever-growing demand for money.

Although it is impossible to access reliable accounts of pre-contact land tenure, reports from the contact and post-contact era can help us to draw a number of broad-brush portraits of land in different Pacific societies immediately before foreign influences began.

On the basis of a critical reading of these accounts, one of the most common themes that emerges from the comparison of several cases is that individual ownership now tends to replace previous forms of collective land tenure (Crocombe, 1987 [1971]). As far as the case of land in Honiara is concerned, three features parallel cases in other Pacific islands:

(1) complexities arising from the attempt to recognize the “landowners” and their role; (2) ambiguities concerning land boundaries; and (3) the role of the state in making boundaries

177 and “landowners” recognizable according to problematic definitions of land and land tenure systems.

Ambiguities concerning land boundaries are an inherent feature of these processes.

As Leach rightfully wrote, “Boundaries do not exist in space, or between places, unless they are generated as such in purposeful activity” (Leach, 2004: 211). People relate to a particular place within the scope of purposeful activities that are highly contextual and upon which the definition of the boundary depends. It follows that the objectification of land boundaries is not devoid of representational challenges that require careful consideration. For, besides the immediate purposes of a particular legislation, understanding the different perspectives at play may shed light on the crucial issue that

Colin Filer has rendered in asking “whether land boundaries are more or less substantial, flexible, or porous than group boundaries” (Filer, 2011: 136).

In this respect, complexities arise also when an effort is made to determine under what circumstances the claims advanced by groups of “landowners” are valid under a given legal arrangement. As Keesing reminds us, invented traditions are common in the Pacific, where they have been used to claim or exercise authority over a particular locale (Keesing,

1982a, 1982b, 1982c). This has important bearings when the relationships between different land-holding groups have to be ascertained, even more when multiple claims are advanced.

Within the process of land registration in Pacific Islands, the role of the state in identifying land-holding groups has been investigated in relation to what James Scott calls

‘legibility’ (J. Scott, 1998), i.e. the simplification of socio-cultural practices within categories that allow state recording and monitoring as precondition for systematic intervention in the

178 lives of citizens.15 The state sees according to what it considers ‘legible’, and Solomon

Islanders who are interested in controlling land and who understand the expectations of the state, do their best to fulfil them. But then, the substance of land-holding groups and the procedure through which such groups are identified are issues that come into question.

Like Wagner, who questioned the widespread belief that social groups, and particularly land-based clans, have any meaning in the New Guinea Highlands (Wagner, 1974), it is reasonable to ask if the same holds for other parts of Melanesia.

From that standpoint, it would not seem arbitrary to see the Tandai Tribal

Landowner Association as made up of clans that started to exist in any meaningful sense only as soon as they united in the common purpose of ‘becoming legible’. In this particular case, as James admitted, the role of government officials was central in determining the procedure through which the Tandai clans are identified and recognised.

Furthermore, the government’s preference for patriliny can be inscribed within a tendency that has been recognized in other Pacific countries, such as Australia and PNG.

Australian state agents found that unilineal descent better suited their administrative projects, thereby influencing indigenous conditions for legibility (P. Sutton, 2003: 140-4).

Government agents in PNG have, in many cases, considered patrilineal clans as the appropriate bodies for land registration in areas where land group affiliation depended on other principles, and especially matrilineal descent (Hiatt, 1984; Lakau, 1995: 98). “In some places where patriclans did not exist traditionally, the people have ‘invented’ them on the understanding that the government and the developers require them for the purpose of

15For the application of the concept of legibility in the Melanesian context, see Jorgensen, 2000; 2003; 2007.

179 distributing royalties”(Hiatt, 1995: xii). This has been possible thanks to a convergence of interests between landowning groups and government agents that potentially excluded a vast array of people.

Ward and Kingdon argued that if the important modifications that have occurred in the transition to modern state land administration are not recognised, some of the current developments might turn out to be “favourable to a very few, and largely detrimental to many” (Ward & Kingdon, 1995: 64). What this chapter adds to the literature is the point of view of the inhabitants of a settlement who currently belong to the latter category.

However, the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp keep trying to negotiate their settlement. Even if the multiple layers of confusion, the absence of political representation, and the lack of recognition by the state hinder the recognition of the value of land, they voice their discomfort and call for the acknowledgment of their point of view. That seems to have important bearings on the overall theme of this thesis. Not only because the case study analysed in this chapter provides evidence that they want to live and feel safe on the land where they have settled. More importantly, it gives a measure of how intensely they want to belong to Gilbert Camp.

180

CHAPTER 5

“ACCORDING TO KASTOM AND ACCORDING TO LAW”:1 WRONGDOING IN GILBERT CAMP

Plate 5.1 Nathan supervising the compensation

“We can only discuss the death of a man according to the culture of that man. Culture of man, decision of man”.

Nathan

1 S.I. Pidgin: “Lo sait lo kastom en lo sait lo lo”.

181 1. Internal conflicts and hybrid courts in Gilbert Camp

In the previous chapter I concentrated on the efforts that the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert

Camp make to live according to their values as they interact with interlocutors outside their community, such as landowners and government officials. In this chapter, I turn to the tensions that they face as they negotiate these values with other members of their community. Sometimes, these tensions can escalate in actual disputes, with the potential explosion of violence and consequent blood feuds. Thus, some sort of arbitration becomes necessary. In Honiara, though, there is no state-based legal system covering issues related to customary law. That is partly due to the fact that the national legal system withdrew the delivery of local justice services as a consequence of the civil conflict and the recent administrative centralisation. Although the government provides some support for local courts, that is very limited and in recent years budget allocations have increasingly been diverted to more formalised legal apparatuses (Winter & Schofield, 2007). Most local courts “exist in name only” (Goddard, Paterson, and Evans, 2010: 11), and those that have a place to sit, personnel, and budget allocation from the government, usually deal only with customary land disputes.

Given the absence of state-based systems of customary dispute resolution and enforcement of customary norms, the people of Gilbert Camp set up their own ways of dealing with wrongdoings and implementation. Since April 2010, there is a formalised code of community by-laws, certified by the East Honiara Outskirt Settlement Community

Policing By-Law Association Trust Board (see Appendix G). The members of the association formulated the code with the intention of organising their community-based enforcement of customary laws. That, in practice, never came into being, arguably because the people of Gilbert Camp see no need for a policing service and, to make sure that norms

182 are respected, they prefer to make use of what they call their own “common sense” (main).

Instead, they need concrete mechanisms to resolve their disputes. In the absence of state- based institutions, the only alternative left is to organise the kind of hybrid courts analysed in this chapter.

The term ‘hybrid court’ has been used to refer to forms of dispute resolutions in small-scale communities, resting at once on varying degrees of customary practice and state intervention. In the case analysed in this chapter, state intervention takes the form of voluntary assistance provided by local police staff. As for the customary counterpart, describing this case as one of customary law can be discursively convenient but complicated by the underlying problem of conceptualising both kastom and law. As mentioned in the introduction, “the concept of ‘custom’, often associated with “tradition” remains notoriously problematic for anthropologists” (Goddard, 2010: 31). Furthermore, using the

Western term “law” when referring to the norms involved in processes of dispute resolution might distract from their actual aims and effects (Zorn, 1991). Yet, the importance of local norms cannot be denied, nor should any reflection about tentative terminologies prevent an attempt to understanding the implications of cases of dispute resolution (cf. Goddard, Paterson, and Evans, 2010: 18).

The adjective ‘hybrid’ provides a fairly accurate description of the context in which local disputes can be addressed according to kastom and under the supervision of the state legal system. In the case I present in this chapter, the fact that Kwara’ae people were able to reach the resolution of a dispute, which most of them considered successful, shows that sometimes their efforts to realise their values are repaid.

“We call this a community”, writes Kwa’ioloa in this respect, “because everyone knows each other. We coordinate the chiefs and if there are any problems we deal with

183 them. The chiefs of each place come together and arrange it: ‘The meeting will be at our place on Sunday’. That man must come, as at home, and the matter is finally settled with a hearing at a police station” (Burt & Kwa’ioloa, 2013: 168).2 Kwa’ioloa’s words suggest that what I observed is not an isolated case. Therefore, it seems reasonable to argue that

Kwara’ae people’s efforts to deal with local disputes notwithstanding the difficulties in the urban context can be considered a general tendency towards the creation of a community where their values are collectively respected. That is the argument I intend to advance in this chapter with the analysis of the following case study.

Jack died during his sleep in June 2011. He was staying at Ethel’s house in Gilbert

Camp at the time, having just returned from Western Province. About one year later, in

October 2012, Rhoda told Ethel that it was Jane (Rhoda’s sister) who had killed Jack with sorcery.3 Ethel reported all this to Jack’s brother, George, who, outraged, accused Jane and her husband Hugh of murder. A meeting was subsequently held and details of the case were presented to three local chiefs and three policemen. They understood that Rhoda gossiped about Jane in order to attack her because of a conflict the two sisters had over a piece of land. Because the name of Jack had been used to make up the gossip, and the gossip resulted in a threat to the life of Hugh and George, then restitution had to be paid to both men. But who was to pay it?

If one looks at this case from the perspective adopted by Pamela Stewart and

Andrew Strathern in their 2004 book Witchcraft, sorcery, rumors, and gossip, this is a classic

2 By chief, Kwa’ioloa actually indicates a person who has experience in dealing with cases of dispute resolution and who is not necessarily recognized as a leader in the community. In this chapter, I use the word chief with the same meaning. 3 Below, I reflect upon the usage and complications of the terms sorcery, witchcraft, and black magic in relation to this case.

184 example of sorcery accusation, in that it stemmed from a subterraneous conflict that generated resentment, gossip, and rumour, and required a meeting to settle the dispute.

The features of this case can be compared to those of many other cases described in anthropological studies of sorcery. Therefore, it can be useful to raise the general question of wrongdoing, how it is to be dealt with, and what restitution can repair it. However, rather than addressing this issue in general, my concern here is with the specific ways in which wrongdoing takes place, and how it is perceived, dealt with, and repaired in Gilbert

Camp.

Before undertaking such an analysis, though, I must provide a brief account of the events leading up to the accusation and a concise report of the meeting. Indeed, such ethnographic description illustrates the data and context that I intend to analyse in the third part of this chapter. In particular, I will explore some concepts that Kwara’ae people value, such as death, name, land, kinship, gossip, rumour, money and the restitution itself. With a constant interplay between my material and the relevant literature, I will explore the meaning of these concepts in Kwara’ae culture in order to understand their place in Gilbert

Camp. The fact that Kwara’ae people creatively re-elaborate principles of Malaitan kastom in order to concretize them in the non-Kwara’ae context of their peri-urban community is an illustration of their efforts to make Gilbert Camp a better place to live.

2. Jack’s death

This is the story of a dispute between two sisters, the negative repercussions it had on their community, and the efforts that the participants made to address these issues. My aim in the following three sections is to balance the amount of ethnographic description with the need to draw attention to the points I want to analyse. I will do so by presenting a

185 chronology of the facts (before, during, and at the end of the restitution meeting) that will provide the broad picture, and I will intersperse such a chronology with a series of “zoom- ins” that pin down the aspects I intend to analyse. A full transcript of the case is included at the end of the thesis,4 and the synoptic tables below summarise the main events.5

1) Before the meeting

Rhoda is an unmarried woman in her 30s who settled in Gilbert Camp when she was a teenager. In January 2000, she gave money and food to Jacob Samonima in exchange for a piece of land. We met Jacob in the previous chapter, where we learnt about his claims to be a “landowner”. We have also seen that he frequently receives payments from the people who seek to regularize their settlement in Gilbert Camp, without issuing any written proof of the sale. So it was for Rhoda, who was asked to pay SBD$ 10,000. She had SBD$ 6,000 at that time, and so she promised to pay the rest as soon as she had saved enough. Jacob accorded her some time. Rhoda built a house on the land, and lived there for six years.

James Alice

Mar ia Annette William Rhoda Jane Hugh Robert Ethel Jack George

Jacob's land

Figure 5.1 Kinship and spatial relations connecting the opposed parties

4 See Appendix H. 5 See Table 5.1 and Table 5.2.

186 In 2006, a maternal relative of Rhoda died, leaving behind a young daughter and a house in the adjacent settlement of Kobito. So, Rhoda went to live there and Jane and

Hugh rented her house. They transformed part of it into a shop whose shop window faces one of the most well-travelled crossroads of Gilbert Camp. They lived there with their children for six years. Then, the tragic event took place.

In the same area, Ethel was living in the house of her late husband Robert. In June

2011, Jack decided to visit her. He had just come back from the Western Province, where he had been working for a logging company. As one of Robert’s cross cousins, he felt he could take advantage of Ethel’s hospitality, even though she had been a widow for more than five years by that time. So, he just arrived to stay at her house, demanding to be fed and given a place to sleep. Ethel welcomed Jack and prepared what later became his last supper.

The following day, as the man was not up for breakfast, Ethel sent her niece to wake him up. But the young girl came back alone, saying that her uncle was not getting up, that he was very cold, and looked lifeless. Ethel rushed into her cabin and immediately came out in tears, screaming and shouting that Jack was dead. Soon George, Jack’s brother and second in their patriliny, came. From that day, he had become the eldest male member of his family. As such, it was his duty to officiate the funeral. The next day, on the way to the cemetery, Jane met Rhoda and informed her of what had happened in their neighbourhood.

At the beginning of October 2012, Jane and her husband had saved enough money to buy the piece of land where they were living. Even if they were aware that Rhoda had already ‘bought’ the land, they knew they could still “buy her out” by simply offering Jacob a higher price. Which is what they did; they visited the man and offered him SBD$ 10,000.

187 Rhoda, who initially had given Jacob SBD$ 6,000, never completed the payment. So, after more than 10 years, Jacob felt fully entitled to take those SBD$ 10,000 from Hugh and Jane and forget about the first purchase. It was not his business, after all, if in this way Jane was playing a very bad trick on her own sister. Indeed, Rhoda lost SBD$ 6,000, her piece of land, and her house. 6

As soon as Ethel told George that Rhoda had said that her sister had killed Jack

(see Fig. 5.2), he decided to get in touch with Nathan, a man he used to call a “local chief”.

Nathan organised a compensation meeting in Gilbert Camp, not far from Hugh’s house.

The day before the meeting, however, the plan changed. Another “local chief”, this time from a nearby area commonly referred to as ‘Mile Stone’, visited George and Nathan. His name was Luke, and had been sent by Hugh. Luke explained to Nathan that Hugh was afraid of George’s relatives and wanted the meeting to take place in the nearest Police

Station, rather than in the very centre of their community.

Nathan explained to George what Luke was asking on the behalf of Hugh. George seemed unhappy with the request. However, after a quiet discussion, he accepted. They agreed the meeting was going to take place on Sunday in the nearby Naha Police Station.

Figure 5.2 Rhoda told Ethel who told George that Jane told Rhoda

6 See case mentioned in chapter 4.

188 2) The meeting

In the early morning of that day, Marcus was drunk. He, a son of George’s sister, was coming back from an alcoholic Saturday night and as soon as he heard the rumour about the murder, he went straight to the house of the alleged perpetrators. He threatened Hugh with shouts, and threw stones against his door. Later, George scolded Marcus for that.

After the incident, we all went to church for the Morning Prayer. Then, after a quick lunch, we left and went to the Naha Police Station, about a 30-minute walk from Gilbert Camp.

As we walked along the road, more and more relatives and friends joined us. With betel nut under our teeth and the support of a growing fellowship, we were feeling very confident.

In the room of the Chief Police Officer (CPO) there were 18 people. They were seated as shown in the diagram below (see Fig. 5.3). After a collective prayer, Nathan formally opened the proceedings, adding that the meeting was held under the authority of the local chiefs, depository of customary law, and that of the local police, responsible for the enforcement of the national constitution. Then, he requested the accuser to stand up and explain his reasons to call for the meeting. George stood up, explained his reasons (see

Appendix H, 7’30”), and the ‘trial’ began.

As the meeting went on, innumerable questions were posed, which generated an equal number of different versions of the same story. We heard the story of an evil spirit that was embodied in a dog that barked every night, and disappeared after Jack’s death; we listened to an explanation about how the “half-tobacco” kills those who inhale it; and many other anecdotes. But neither the police staff nor the local chiefs considered any of these stories to be useful. Soon, the investigation came to a halt.

189

Figure 5.3 Position of participants in the office of the CPO

There was, however, one element of the story that kept coming up. “They spoiled my land”7 exclaimed Rhoda. “It was that spirit in the dog that was spoiling our land”, explained Jane. The issue of land popped out all the time. In the meanwhile, no relevant facts related to Jack’s death emerged. In the end, Nathan declared that no evidence of a sorcery attack had been found. Therefore, it became necessary to follow the only chain of

“evidence” that seemed to clarify what had happened. The authorities finally interrogated

Jane and Rhoda on their dispute over land, and in the span of 10 minutes the chiefs were ready to give their judgement.

We left the room. Those who remained were the three policemen, the three chiefs, and another man who is considered to be a chief. He had only come when the meeting had already started, and had been listening to the discussion on the threshold of the office.

7 Spoelem: to spoil, to defile. See Table 5.3.

190 We sat on the grass, smoking cigarettes and chewing betel nut in haste. We discussed the way the meeting had gone so far. Everyone was very quiet-spoken, almost whispering. The few times I tried to suggest to George that he was certainly going to be compensated, he looked rather unconcerned. But the anxiety that his body language communicated, as well as the record number of cigarettes he smoked in the span of about

20 minutes, revealed quite the opposite. He was anxious to know the final decision, but he did not allow himself to indulge in premature speculations. He sat in silence, chewing betel nut and mulling over all the words that were turning inside his head.

I started to look around. Many people were concentrating in front of the police station. They were friends and relatives, or simply people who could not resist their own curiosity and joined us. I could see Helen, George’s wife, and their children, plus many of the children who normally stayed with us in Gilbert Camp. Those on ‘our side’, namely

Ethel, Jim, Graham, and Peter were sitting with George and me. On the left corner of the building, Jane and Hugh were sitting close to each other. Sometimes, they exchanged a few words, but remained silent for most of the time. Annette, William, and Maria, instead, were talking rather animatedly, although in a very low voice, on another corner. As for Rhoda, she was by herself, walking back and forth on the verge between the grass area and the road. At that time, I was not completely conscious of what was happening. The rearrangement of relationships had already started: Rhoda was not on ‘our side’ anymore, as she was at the beginning of the meeting.8 She was not on her sister’s side either. She was alone. It was as if the judgment had already been pronounced.

8 Compare with Fig. 5.3.

191 Table 5.1 Timeline of the case study, 2000-2011

Time Agent Patient Action Insider’s views Outsider’s analysis

Year Rhoda Jacob Gives money Rhoda: Jacob is Rhoda does not 2000 and food landowner know her purchase is not protected by state law

As above Jacob Rhoda Allows to Jacob: Rhoda is Jacob takes access land allowed to reside advantage of the knowledge imbalance

Year Jane Rhoda Pays reduced Jane: Rhoda is Rhoda feels obliged 2006 rent my sister, but she to rent at reduced needs money rates to relatives

As above Rhoda Jane Rents house Rhoda: she is my Rhoda rents her to Jane sister, but I also house as a source need money of income

Year Jack Ethel Crashes at Jack: the house Jack feels entitled to 2011 Ethel’s house of my ‘sister’ is sleep at a relative’s my house house

As above Ethel Jack Hosts Jack Ethel: he is my Ethel feels obliged and cooks for brother, I must to host visiting him feed him relative

As above Jane Ethel Rushes as she Jane: I must help Neighbours think hears Jack my neighbours they should help died each other

As above George Jack Officiates the George: I must George is now the funeral honour my eldest son of his brother father

As above Jane Rhoda Tells Rhoda Jane: my sister Jack died on land about Jack’s should know that Rhoda says is death what happens hers

192 Table 5.2 Timeline of the case study, 2012

Time Agent Patient Action Insider’s views Outsider’s analysis

October Jane Jacob Gives $ Jane: this land is Jane acted wrongly 2012 10,000 mine now, not according to kastom Rhoda’s As above Jacob Jane Receives $ Jacob: Rhoda is Jacob made a profit 10,000 now out of my land As above Rhoda Jane Threatens Rhoda: my sister Rhoda acted (asks money owes me money wrongly according for silence) to kastom As above William Rhoda Threatens William: she must William protects (shut up) not gossip against Jack’s name, and her sister the property of his sister-in-law As above Rhoda Ethel Gossips Rhoda: I take Rhoda breaches about Jane revenge against my norms of sister and draw sisterhood, death, attention to her and creates wrongdoing animosity As above Ethel George Refers the Ethel: the brother Ethel often eats at gossip of my brother Jack George’s place, she must know is part of his family As above George Hugh Requests George: you killed Because of the compensati my brother, you gossip, George on must pay thinks Hugh killed Jack

As above George Nathan Asks to set George: chief must The chief is from up a decide an adjacent meeting settlement

As above Hugh Luke Asks Hugh: I am afraid The threat is meeting is of what George’s reasonable, Antony held in the kin can do attacked Hugh police st.

As above Antony Hugh Throws Antony: there will George did not stones be blood agree with that

As above Hugh George Pays Hugh: we are one George: yes, we are

193 Table 5.3 Key terms used during the meeting

Term Example Meaning

Black Rhoda: “Mifala askem magic man fo mekem wanfala magic Black magic indicates a magic wea save kasim Jack sapos Jack traem kilim faestaem”[We substance used to asked a magic man to make a spell that would turn curse and/or kill a Jack’s black magic against him.] person. Man blo William: “Wanfala man blo taun” [A troublesome man Man blo taun indicates taun who lives in town.] a malicious person, who does not belong to any place. Spoelem Nathan: “Kaincross insaet lo toktok mi no laik, hem spoelem Spoelem describes an toktok” [I don’t like this type of violent talk, it makes attitude towards talking bad.] someone or something, that at Rhoda: “O’ta spoelem lo main blo mi, lo erea blo mi, lo lan once devalues it in the blo mi”. [They spoiled my mind, my area, and my abstract and defiles it land.] concretely.

Kastom Nathan: “Road wea hem stap hem blo kastom en lo, iumi Kastom refers to mas settle en sit ya”. [Our pathway is that of kastom and shared traditions and law, we have to act within its limits.] contemporary ideas grounded in CPO: “Lo sait lo kastom en lo sait lo lo, death hemi lo top indigenous concepts degree” [In terms of kastom and law, death is the most and principles. In its severe issue.] political uses, kastom is often closely tied to Phil: “If argumen blo iutufala, plis, no digimaot ankol blo indigenous means of mifala fo argumen blo iufala, bikos hemi sirius tumas lo dispute resolution, or kastom”. [If it is all an argument between you two, “kastom lo”, set in then, please, do not pronounce the name of our uncle opposition to “state” in vain, just for the sake of your argument, because or “government law”. that is really serious in terms of kastom.]

Samtin Ethel: “Wanfala samtin insaet lo erea blo iufala (…). Samtin indicates an Samtin fo kilim”. [Something inside your area (…). indefinite substance. Something that kills.] In this context it refers to the mysterious substance that supposedly killed the victim.

Debol Rhoda: “Jack go fo paem debol fo kilim Hugh”. [Jack paid Debol is a dangerous somebody to evoke a spirit that would kill Hugh.] presence that can cause harm to those who encounter it.

194 3) The judgment

We re-entered the room when the CPO summoned us. The man who came later took the stage, introduced himself and gave a brief speech in Kwara’ae. Luke translated with the following words, to which Nathan added the beginning of what was going to be a verdict pronounced by several voices:

Luke: I have never come across a case of two sisters attacking each other in this

way. I am very surprised.

Nathan: This case, as we have had the opportunity to ascertain, does not present

any evidence concerning the death of our brother Jack. They have made use

of his name for their personal problems.

Luke: We four chiefs sat down and decided what follows. […] Rhoda shall pay one

[tafuli’ae]9 to George. Jane shall pay another one to George. Both Jane and

Rhoda shall pay another one to Hugh.

So, the chiefs demanded Rhoda to pay two compensations. Firstly, they recognized that she had made use of the name of a dead man to attack her sister. For that, she was demanded to compensate George with one tafuli’ae. Secondly, they punished her for instigating animosity between Jack’s relatives and Hugh’s family. As a consequence, she was asked to give Hugh SBD$ 500, about a-half the value of one tafuli’ae.

Jane too was demanded to compensate George for the disrespectful use of Jack’s name. Even if it had not been her idea, initiative, or intention to take part, somehow she was involved in what her sister had done. Also, since the dispute resulted in the animosity

9 Type of shell money, see Figure 5.5.

195 between George’s relatives and Hugh’s family, Jane had to compensate her own husband with SBD$ 500. All in all, both Rhoda and Jane had to compensate George and Hugh, the former with one tafuli’ae each, the latter with SBD$ 500 each. In brief, they were considered to be equally responsible.

There are many questions that arise from this case. Why was making use of the name of a dead relative seen as a wrongdoing? How should the conflict between the value of land and that of kinship be interpreted to reflect the point of view of Kwara’ae people?

How did the chiefs achieve their final decision and the rearrangement of relationships?

Why was Jane considered as responsible as Rhoda? These are the questions that I will address in the third part of this chapter.

3. Wrongdoing

My analysis of the material above is inspired by a conceptual categorization of cases of witchcraft and sorcery accusations developed by Stewart and Strathern (2004). They made an explicit attempt to connect witchcraft and sorcery accusations with gossip and rumours, developing a theoretical framework in which this case seems to fit. While there are some benefits in undertaking such an analysis, there are also some complications. In particular, the difference between the terminology used by my informants, and that used by Stewart and Strathern, can be confusing. Although I am aware of the major differences between sorcery, witchcraft and magic, in this chapter I use the term “malevolent magic”(Goddard,

2010: 22) to refer to the supernatural intervention that killed the victim. There are three main reasons for that. The first is that the people of Gilbert Camp used the term “magic”.

However, and this is the second reason, it was not possible to ascertain what kind of supernatural intervention was the one allegedly used, nor by whom. Thus, neither ‘sorcery’

196 nor ‘witchcraft’ can confidently be applied as terms. Yet, and this is the third reason, I have to make use of these terms in the analytical part of this chapter. That is because I read my material in connection with the work of Stewart and Strathern, who used the terms

‘witchcraft’ and ‘sorcery’. If at times I switch from magic, to sorcery, to witchcraft in ways that could give the impression that I consider these terms as merely interchangeable, that is only because undertaking the analysis of my material involves a dialogue between conceptual repertoires produced in different contexts. Nevertheless, I have made an effort to make a consistent use of this terminology, where possible.

1) Context: the value of a dead man’s name

In order to understand the relationship between gossip and accusations of malevolent magic, the context in which they take place constitutes a fundamental aspect to look at.

Stewart and Strathern rightfully wrote: “[f]or words to be harmful, even lethal, [..] they have to be spoken in contexts of ideology that are congenial to them. It is therefore the ideological and historical context rather than the words themselves that ultimately produces the effects” (2004: 30). Although I tend to second such a position, looking at the history and ideology of Kwara’ae people is beyond the scope of this chapter. An overview of these would not do justice to their cultural traits, and would not communicate the importance of the few specific aspects I want to analyse. That is why I concentrate on two very specific elements of Kwara’ae culture, namely death and names.

a. The meaning of death

The people of Gilbert Camp first experienced Jack’s death as an inexplicable, perhaps natural, event. Then, when Rhoda’s gossip spread around, they began to suspect that the

197 death resulted from an attack of malevolent magic. The difference between these two conceptions of death (mae) is very marked in Kwara’ae culture.

In general, the death of a relative is something that throws the community into a sense of loss and astonishment, regardless of whether the person died or was killed.

However, it is relatively less shocking when an aged person or someone who was known to be sick dies. Instead, when death is sudden and unexpected, the whole community is extremely shocked. If it is recognized that the person died as a consequence of a sorcery attack, some form of reparation has to take place.

There are two main aspects in Kwara’ae reparation: to’ato’a and fa’aabuā . To’ato’a is the compensation given or extorted for an offence. It might take the form of a voluntary payment or that of the deprivation of life through a retaliatory killing. Fa’aabuā is the maintenance and/or restoration of a person’s status as abu. An offence, such as the killing of a relative or the desecration of a sacred place, devalues the status of the related person.

Such de-evaluation is called fa’alia, a term that is translated as spoelem (defilement)10 in

Solomon Islands Pidgin. To put it in Kwara’ae words, following a fa’alia, a to’ato’a has to be given in order to fa’aabuā the victim. Both voluntary compensation and retaliatory violence are seen as ways to regain the status one lost as a consequence of taking offence.

Traditionally, if it is not possible to identify the perpetrator and/or to seek reparation from him or his relatives, the victim would pursue the restoration of his own status through killing someone randomly (cf. Burt, 1994b: 47). Nowadays, this institution has been largely, if not completely, abandoned. However, its principle should be kept into consideration in order to understand that the point of reparation is not to punish the

10 See Table 5.3.

198 perpetrator, but rather to fa’aabuā the victim. That a perpetrator is identified is somehow incidental. In contrast, restoring the victim’s status is fundamental.

Regardless of whether the person died or was killed, he/she will not cease to be a member of the community; his/her ghost continues to take part in the everyday life of the descent group. It follows that the relationship between the ghosts and the people is not very different from the relationship the people have with each other. In the visible world,

Kwara’ae people are bound by a sense of relatedness that they express through love and respect, and so they are with the invisible part of their group. Love and respect, generally speaking, have to be realized in the material form of gifts of food and sacrifices of pigs for important occasions, and the same holds in the relationships with ancestors. The subsistence and reproduction of a community depends on these mutual exchanges, regardless of whether these are performed in favour of dead or living relatives (cf. Burt,

1982: 379).

For these reasons, a ghost has to be made abu as much as a living member of the community. To do so, besides being offered the material gifts that express the moral sentiment of love, a ghost must also be respected. There is no difference between fa’aabuā ngwae (to make a person abu) and fa’aabuā akalo (to make a ghost abu). The degree of respect, as with any other person, has to be appropriate to his/her status. In other words, people must be made abu according to their position in the community, regardless of their being dead or alive. A brother, to take an example relevant for this case, is of utmost importance in a patrilineal society.

There are several ways in which a ghost is made abu. Most of these mirror the ways that are used to maintain respect among living people. One is the prohibition against pronouncing a ghost’s name. To be sure, many new-borns are given the name of dead

199 relatives. This is indeed a way to honour the dead relative and his/her memory. However, the fact that someone is named after a dead relative does not mean one will call him/her with that name. All sorts of alternative ways of calling people are invented in order to avoid using the name of a dead relative (cf. Keesing, 1969). Such a creative effort is much less costly than the possible consequences of pronouncing the name of a ghost. Once disturbed, the ghost might decide to take revenge and punish the person who dared calling him/her by his/her name.

b. The meaning of names

I observed, however, that Kwara’ae people living in Gilbert Camp are much less concerned than their relatives in Malaita, with the consequences of pronouncing names, be them names of living or dead persons. To give an example, I briefly report of a debate I observed between some of my Kwara’ae friends who were living as migrants in Gilbert Camp, and their father, an old man named Manasseh who hosted me during my periodical trips to the

Kwara’ae district.

Manasseh did not like the idea of having all his ko’o (grandchildren, both lineal and classificatory) named after him. He told me that it was nogud if so many children had the same name. The issue had emerged when his sons Clement, Daniel and Raphael started to think about using Manasseh’s kastom nem, Ramo, (i.e. his first name before he was baptized) as a surname for their children. The result would have been, in Manasseh’s eyes, too many

Ramos around: Joshua Ramo, Diana Ramo, Junior Ramo, etc. So, because he feared that he was going to become “too famous”, Manasseh stopped his sons. He was afraid that someone might become envious of his fame, and attack him out of envy.

200 This brief account does not suggest that calling somebody by name in Kwara’ae culture is forbidden in itself. Indeed, it has been observed that it happens on three main occasions (cf. Gegeo & Gegeo, 1986): firstly, for practical reasons in daily domestic situations such as locating someone who cannot be found; secondly, to request someone who is out of eyesight to identify himself (such as someone who is working in the bush or walking in the dark); thirdly, as a social activity such as pleasant banter, joking, or the universal quo vadis?11 But the name of a dead relative is a different matter. Pronouncing it without ‘good’ reasons is regarded as a form of disrespect. I can give another ethnographic example in order to illustrate this point.

During another trip to Malaita, old and wise Henry was patiently explaining the traditional terms of reference in the Kwara’ae household to me. Suddenly, his radio started to broadcast a song entitled ‘Mama Lewa’ by the popular Blue Mates Band of Pangia from the Southern Highlands of PNG. Henry felt very annoyed, and immediately turned the radio off. I asked him if that was because he did not like the tune, or the genre. But he replied, with a sort of mortified expression, that it was not because of that. He lowered his voice, and whispered that Lewa was the name of his late mother. When the radio started to play the song, he felt as if his mother’s name was being repeatedly called. It did not matter that the Tok Pisin term meant something else.12 The bare sound was enough to make him feel that his mother might be unhappy to hear her own name so naively and repeatedly cried out.

11 Kwara’ae: “leka he?”, lit. ‘go where?” 12 The expression ‘Mama Lewa’ could be translated as ‘mother of my heart’.

201 This example shows that Kwara’ae people who care about their ancestors can be particularly considerate. In Honiara, however, Kwara’ae people are much less alert when it comes to pronouncing the name of a dead relative. In this respect, the difference between

Kwara’ae people who live in the rural areas and those who moved or even grew up in the urban context is considerable. This became clear to me one day when I was interviewing

Lipson in front of his house in Gilbert Camp.

My friend received a phone call from his father, who was in Malaita. Lipson asked him if Matthew (Lipson’s younger brother) had already arrived. Because Lipson knew that his father was not very used to Christian names, he called his own brother with his kastom nem, Fainasoro. A few seconds later, the line went dead. I asked Lipson what had happened, and he said that he had only heard a noise before the call had been interrupted.

He tried to call his father back, but he could not get through. The next day, I met Lipson again and asked him about his father. He said he had eventually got in touch with him and that the man had told the following story. When Lipson pronounced his brother’s kastom name on the phone, his father was walking in an area that was once consecrated to their patriliny. Fainasoro is not only the name of Lipson’s brother, but also that of his father’s father. The spirit of the late Fainasoro, it appears, heard his own name out of the phone receiver, and had got upset because that had happened with no ‘good’ reason. So, he decided to punish his son. He pulled the branch of a tree and released it just as the man was passing. The branch hit the man in the face and flung the phone on the ground, reducing it into pieces. “Strange story, uh?” commented Lipson. And added: “But these things do not happen in Honiara”.

These three ethnographic vignettes illustrate that Kwara’ae people tend to consider pronouncing the name of a dead relative disrespectful and even dangerous, although in

202 Honiara they do so much less than in Malaita. Nevertheless, this shall not suggest that the value of a dead man’s name decreases among Kwara’ae people living in Gilbert Camp. The conclusion of the compensation meeting demonstrated indeed that spoelem nem (defiling a name) is considered a wrongdoing deserving compensation. That is because, as Gordon once told me, “a dead relative must rest in peace”. If somebody was making a disrespectful use of the name of his brother Jack, how could Jack rest in peace? As a consequence of the disrespectful use of Jack’s name, the entire community risked to be affected. Which is exactly what happened. In conclusion, this initial analysis of this case seems to indicate that the reason why making use of the name of a dead relative was seen as a wrongdoing deserving compensation is that there could be no “good” life for the Kwara’ae people as long as there is no ‘good’ death for their ancestors.

2) Conflict: the value of land and kinship

Let us now turn to the conflict between Rhoda and Jane and see how it can be interpreted.

“It is always some misfortune that triggers accusations”, argue Stewart and Strathern (2004:

27). They arrived at this conclusion after the analysis of examples of accusations documented in PNG, Africa, England, and Scotland. They observed that, in all cases, people understood jealousy and distrust in terms of sorcery or witchcraft and explained these as the origin of sickness or death. However, although “[t]he same human envies and jealousies feed into gossip generally and witchcraft accusations in particular” (Ibid.), the causes of envy differ depending on the context. The context where this case study was collected is characterised by the problematic issue of land, as I explained in the previous chapter. In the next sub-section, thus, I look at land as the origin of the conflict.

203 a. Land as the origin of the conflict

We have seen that, according to the chiefs, the conflict under analysis arose from the clashing interests of two sisters for the same piece of land. These elements belong to a typology of sorcery accusations that has been analysed in classic studies in the history of anthropology. For example, in 1957 Victor Turner published a study of Ndembu village life in which he interpreted sorcery and witchcraft accusations as forms of ‘social drama’ that made other underlying conflicts explicit, including conflicts over land (V. Turner, 1996

[1957]). In other words, Turner explained accusations as the surface indicators of pre- existing tensions. As the local chiefs and the police officers saw it, the sorcery accusation that came before their eyes can also fit within the grids of such an interpretation.

Turner famously identified four sets of events in which the processional form of social drama can be formulated: breach, crisis, redressive action, and reintegration or recognition of schism. Although I find that Stewart and Strathern’s model aptly suited the purpose of analysing the different aspects of this case, Turner’s processional form better serves the specific purpose of looking at the origin of the conflict. Indeed, while Stewart and

Strathern give priority to the context and conflate breach and crisis into the single category of ‘conflict’, Turner distinguished between these two stages. This analytical separation allows a closer look at the origin of the conflict.

If the reader finds it unnecessarily complex to make use of two analytical models to make sense of a single process, I can offer the following explanation for this interpretive choice. Although the origin of the conflict was a land issue, the compensation meeting was organized to address an accusation of malevolent magic. However, the chiefs eventually established that the wrongdoing that had to be compensated was neither the land double- dealing nor the magic attack. Rather, it was the threat to a man’s ‘good’ death and the threat

204 to another man’s “good” life. It follows that there are four wrongdoings to analyse, not two. Since, in this section, I intend to deal with the two that were not counted towards compensation, namely the issue of land and the magic attack, it is useful to open, so to say, an analytical parenthesis. Turner’s model suits this purpose thanks, as I said, to its distinction between breach and crisis.

The origin of the conflict can be conceptualized in the first phase identified by

Turner (breach), because a person, or group of persons, breached a set of norms that regulated social relations between the members of the community. In this case, the norms regulating the relationship between sisters, as well as between in-laws, were disregarded in favour of personal land interests. Put otherwise, two sisters “ought not to fight each other, they are the same blood”, as Maria (Rhoda and Jane’s sister) put it. So, although the origin of the conflict was land double-dealing, Kwara’ae people conceptualize this wrongdoing through the idiom of kinship. In order to look more closely into these two layers of wrongdoing, I begin with a discussion of land double-dealing in Gilbert Camp. Then, I will look at sisterhood.

As I claimed in the previous chapter, the people in Gilbert Camp see the issue of land as covered by several layers of confusion. One of the reasons for this is the impossibility of knowing who the “real landowner” is. The area of land disputed in this case lies outside the town boundary, under the jurisdiction of the GPG. That means that anyone who can prove genealogical connections to the indigenous tribes of the Giana region in order to claim ownership of that land, cannot easily be disproved. People in

Gilbert Camp do not know who the “real landowner” is and can trust someone who, like

Jacob, sells “his” land or demands a rent. This case of land double-dealing is particularly telling of the many possibilities of twisting the terms of a contract in the absence of written

205 records and a clear-cut land policy. A self-appointed “landowner” can, as it happened in this case, accept money in exchange for a piece of land and then, after an unspecified period of time, decide to sell that same area to someone else, on the assumption that the first transaction was actually a rent, rather than a definitive purchase. The law can do nothing about it, because it is very hard to prove that this is a fraud. Indeed, determining the identity of the “landowner” and the right way of accessing land would be difficult for the investigators as much as it is for the people in Gilbert Camp. Firstly, who can verify the multiplicity of landownership claims and the oral history on which they are based?

Secondly, self-appointed landowners, in the absence of written records, can provide all sorts of retrospective explanations for the legitimacy of their land dealing. They can present their transactions as reasonable variations upon the general principle of customary land acquisition, for instance. That is indeed what happened in the early years of Gilbert

Camp, as well as at the beginning of the land dispute between Rhoda and Jane.

In summary, Kwara’ae people might say that land double-dealings are immoral, the legal code might state they are illegal, but they cannot be prosecuted, because they lie at the complex intersection of traditional patterns of land dealing, modern security and property laws, a multiplicity of interests for an increasingly valuable commodity, a growing reliance on the market, and on-going tensions between neighbouring groups. These and other aspects co-exist and concur in creating the precondition for land double-dealings to happen and take the form of sorcery accusations. That is happening in other parts of Melanesia too, such as PNG where scholars frequently interpreted witchcraft and sorcery accusations as a reflection of tensions emerging from the adjusting relations between landowners and incomers (Stewart & Strathern, 2004: xiii). Since Solomon Islands undertook recent, major, and rapid changes in land tenure (as explored in the second part of chapter 4), it is not

206 surprising that a land conflict is found to be at the origin of malevolent magic accusations, as it was the case in Gilbert Camp. However, even though double-dealing cannot be prosecuted, it can be proscribed. Here comes the second aspect of this sub-section, namely kinship values.

b. Bad Sisterhood: how the breach escalated into crisis

In Kwara’ae culture, the general principle that relatives ought to help each other is unanimously accepted and generally concretised in acts of mutual care (see Appendix C).

This principle applies particularly to siblings, who, as Jane and Rhoda’s elder sister Maria effectively reminds us, are “born in the same basket”. Sisters are especially expected to be kind to each other and cooperate effectively. This contrasts with the relationship between brother and sister, who are not expected to rely on each other, and live rather separate lives.

The relationship of mutual help between two sisters is supposed to continue throughout the entire span of their lifetime. However, this ideology of mutual help clashes with the practice of virilocal marriage. Indeed, because sisters tend to marry men from other areas, there is a general understanding that a married woman has to prioritize her family of adoption rather than that of provenance. As a consequence, after marriage she might become more distanced from her sister, especially when separation involves physical distance too. The result is not only that a woman tends to be less available when married than she was when she was still a “girl”. It is also that she is regarded by her sister as an alternative, a tertiary source of support after her own husband and in-laws. Nevertheless, they are still sisters, and should be mutually helpful, rather than harmful.

It follows that, when Kwara’ae sisters have a disagreement, they ought to solve it with each other, or at least try to. Should the matter be so serious that mediation becomes

207 necessary, they shall seek the help of their mother or other elder woman of their network.

When a conflict between sisters is dealt with in that way, its negative potential can be contained and a resolution found. That could happen, for example, in the case of land double-dealing. Certainly, buying the land of your sister is, to use Turner’s terminology, a

“breach of regular norm-governed social relations […] between persons or groups within the same system of social relations”(V. Turner, 1996 [1957]: 91). An elder woman or a mother could be able to settle the conflict by reminding the two sisters of their reciprocal obligation of care and help. But if that does not happen, then the breach can “extend until it becomes co-extensive with some dominant cleavage in the widest set of relevant social relations to which the conflicting parties belong” (Ibid.). This corresponds to the shift from the first to the second phase in Turner’s processual form, namely crisis.

It follows that, since Rhoda and Jane were unable to solve the initial conflict, the tension mounted until it reached crisis point. During this phase, the underlying conflict

(land) came to the fore, thus creating a set of actual and potential fissions within the concerned group or groups (Rhoda, Jane, Hugh, and the man’s relatives). In this case, the groups were united by proximity (neighbourhood) and kinship (either affinally or consanguinally). As Turner himself observed, the recognition of the crisis as originating in the infringement of fundamental norms revealed the importance of these very norms for the people involved.

That is true also for the case under analysis. On the basis of what the chiefs took as evidence, the land issue was identified as the root cause of the accusation of malevolent magic. However, they did not want to explore it in terms of transactions, contracts, or landownership rights. That is because, for the purposes of the meeting it was enough for them to know that there was a dispute between two sisters that caused an alleged attack of

208 malevolent magic, as well as the breakdown of the relationship between two neighbouring families. As in the comparative study by Stewart and Strathern, the chiefs and the other people at the meeting understood jealousy and resentment as the origin of the accusation.

But the crucial infringement did not concern the ‘correct’ way of dealing with land. That, as we have seen, cannot be easily determined. What the chiefs and the other people at the meeting considered scandalous was the infringement of the norm of ‘good’ sisterhood.

And yet, this was not what justified the punishment. Rather, as we will see in the next two sections, this aspect played a role in the decision of who had to pay compensation.

Before to move to the next section, though, a brief note on gender is in order. The fact that those who had to pay compensation were both women and those who were compensated were both men might suggest that the following question should be addressed: to what extent was the fact that the wrongdoers were women affect the way people were reacting and the decisions that were made? Such a question is suggested by a sort of underlying gender narrative to this case: the two sisters caused a lot of bother in the community with their row, and because of that the men who were caught up in the row felt they had to be compensated. In brief, did the sisters have to compensate the men for bothering them?

The gender bias in dispute resolutions has been repeatedly addressed in previous studies of hybrid courts (see, for example, Paterson, 2005; Forsyth, 2009; Campbell, 1977).

Such bias is usually grounded in pre-existing relationships between people, as well as the more or less essentialised depiction of patriarchal oppression, which can be attributed to the decision makers and the parties. While it is acknowledged that the embeddedness of hybrid courts within local communities might result in the influence of personal

209 relationships on decision-making, in general the extent of a gender bias remains difficult to ascertain.

Perhaps, one could argue that a gender bias would explain why the land issue of the two sisters was dismissed while that of the name and personal security of the two men was addressed. However, that seems unlikely for at least two reasons. First, these community- based forms of dispute resolution have no jurisdictional authority over issues of land in

Honiara. These are administered by the few state-based local courts, overseen by the

Central Magistrate’s Court. The police staff and the local chiefs could not help Rhoda to regain her money and/or land even if they had wanted to. Secondly, if Rhoda had accused

Jane of ‘bad sisterhood’, she might have received some help from the community and the recognised authorities. But her use of a dead relative’s name put her against the community. Therefore, before she could regain the right to seek the help of the community, she needed to pay compensation in order to become part of it once again.

That is exactly what Nathan meant when he said:

Nathan: This [i.e. the land dispute] is another story. You will have to come to see

us and we will maybe set up another case.

However, I am not saying that there is no such a thing as a gender bias in the ways in which this dispute was administered. A gender bias arguably exists, but it is not less influential than status, prestige, age, personal relationships, pre-existing political issues, individual desires, and other aspects of social life. That is different from arguing that the two sisters were condemned because they were women.

210 3) Accusation: the values of a gossiper and those of a messenger

How did the chiefs achieve their final decision? In other words, how was the accusation of malevolent magic turned against the accuser? It was necessary to identify a specific form of hostility in the initial accusation. The association between the idea of hostility and sorcery attack features in places as distant as Europe and Melanesia. On the other hand, the etymology suggests that hostility is associated with the idea of distance, foreign provenance, and strangeness.13 Similarly, Kwara’ae people envisage the sorcerer as an outsider who infiltrates the community. This broad-brush depiction of the sorcerer draws the limits of a category of sorcery in which the ideas mobilised in this particular case fit well. For example, at some point the accused insisted that the cause of the victim’s death was to be sought in the half-tobacco, a mysterious substance brought from Western Province. In turn, the accusers maintained that the sorcerer was “some troublesome man from the town”. Be it the place imagined as the most distant from the crime scene (Western Province), or the place imagined as the immediately adjacent (the Honiara town), in both cases malevolent magic had to belong to some form of ‘elsewhere’.

However, as we know, the authorities did not find any evidence that a sorcery attack caused the victim’s death. Gradually, the chiefs started to envision the possibility that the accusation was a post-hoc invention. As Stewart and Strathern wrote, “we should note

[…] that, as is also frequently found elsewhere, accusations centred on people following a death. They were post-hoc attempts to explain the death and pinpoint blame for it. Rumor and gossip particularly came into play on the occasions of death and sickness, bringing out

13 Late XV century, from Middle French hostile “of or belonging to an enemy” or directly from Latin hostilis “of an enemy,” from hostis “enemy”, hospes “host”; from hosti-potis “host, guest,” originally “lord of strangers”; Greek xenos “guest, host, stranger”.

211 veiled suspicions and animosities […]. [G]ossip may be seen as picking on someone to treat as an outsider, thereby redrawing the boundaries of the community, but the immediate motive may have to do with local politics in circumstances where group cohesion is fragile”

(Stewart & Strathern, 2004: 12). As we have seen, the authorities eventually realized that such were the circumstances of the case. In other words, they switched from the idea of hostility as distance to the idea of hostility as pre-existing animosity. The alleged sorcerer chased to be seen as the perpetrator, and it was Rhoda, the initial accuser, who began to

“be seen as playing the aggressive role”(Ibid.: xii).

In the next sub-section, I intend to explore Rhoda’s aggressive role. Above, I made use of Turner’s processual form to unpack Stewart and Strathern’s concept of conflict and distinguish between breach and crisis because that allowed me to differentiate between, to use the terms of classical aetiology, aitìa (cause) and alēthestatē prophasis (underlying cause).14

Now, I need to make another interpretive exercise of this kind in order to illustrate how

Stewart and Strathern’s distinction between gossip and rumour allows us to distinguish between different social ‘functions’ of talking behind someone’s back, and understand why the chiefs considered Rhoda’s gossip as deserving punishment.

a. Gossip and rumour

Stewart and Strathern’s distinction of gossip and rumour is essentially one of extension.

Both gossip and rumour refer to information about someone who is excluded from the conversation, but while gossip consists of information reported or shared among people

14 Crawley translates ‘alēthestatē prophasis’ as “the real cause”, whereas Warner translates it as “the real reason for war” (Lebow, 2003: 106).

212 who are part of a relatively restricted network, rumour consists of the same kind of information when it begins to circulate into wider networks. Such a distinction provides us with a clear terminology to distinguish between the gossip phase, in which Rhoda contacted

Ethel, and the rumour phase, when Ethel reported to George.

According to the reading of the chiefs, during the gossip phase Rhoda was trying to forward her own interests. She was using gossip to attack her own sister, with whom she had a pre-existing conflict, because she feared that her claims were going to be contested, had she openly accused her sister. In contrast, during the rumour phase, Ethel was motivated by the moral sentiments of group solidarity, or at least these are the intentions that the chiefs’ reading attributes her, as well as what she said of herself during the meeting.

She said she had run to the house of the victim’s brother and had reported what she had heard, because that was the way she would have wanted him to act, had the victim been her own brother. If a man had been killed with sorcery, then the entire community ought to be alerted.

We begin to see that Stewart and Strathern’s distinction between gossip and rumour well serves the purpose of analysing two phases of the case, and that it would be limiting to conflate them within the single category of accusation. Furthermore, their distinction opens up the possibility for two opposed pathways of interpretation. The interpretations by Gluckman and Paine epitomize this opposition. They mark the transition from functional approaches, to anthropological analyses centred on the individual. From

Gluckman’s understanding that insisted on gossip as fostering group unity, Paine shifted his focus towards the analysis of individual motives to pursue personal gain.

An early critic of functional interpretations, Paine criticized Gluckman’s argument because, in focusing on the consequences of gossip for the community rather than on the

213 motivations of the individual, the anthropologist would tend to “attribute to gossipers the

‘unity’ of their community as their paramount value” (Paine, 1967: 280). In contrast, Paine proposed that gossipers defame others in order to calculatingly advance their own status.

Nevertheless, the actions of gossipers might promote values that are seen as positive by the community from which gossipers seek to extract benefits. This might happen when, for example, gossipers present themselves as the denouncers of a wrongdoing. This, coincidentally, is indeed the way in which the gossiper of my case, according to the chiefs, tried to mystify her intentions. Likely, Paine insists that the analyst should not be misled by the face values under which gossipers seek to conceal their real aims. Indeed, this kind of reasoning would do no better than reaffirm the tautological reasoning that see every socio- cultural trait as an organic contribution to collective equilibrium and unity. In contrast,

Paine contends, “a discussion of the values of gossipers is best related to what we can find out about their self-interests” (Ibid.).

Let’s now turn to Gluckman’s theory of gossip. Even if such a theory has its own limits, it can be useful to interpret the phase of this case in which gossip turned into rumour. My aim here is not to pursue a functionalist interpretation of gossip. Rather, my aim is to illustrate how gossip can be looked at as a crystallization of the values of a group, without implying that this necessarily involves the reproduction of these values.

The victim’s relatives, once the rumour started to spread, began to ‘coagulate’ around the area where they were told their blood was spilled. The target of the gossip was someone outside of their group, and they recognized themselves in opposition to her as soon as they believed they had identified the perpetrator. Gluckman wrote that “[t]here is no easier way of putting a stranger in his place than by beginning to gossip: this shows him conclusively that he does not belong” (Gluckman, 1963: 313). Perhaps, this is what the

214 gossiper was trying to do with her sister, according to the interpretation of the chiefs: she was trying to transform her into a stranger, someone who deserved to be ostracized from the community, so that she could take her land back. But then, Ethel implicitly initiated ostracism too, when she reported the gossip to George. However, by reporting to him, she was concretising the values of the community, rather than pursuing her own interest.

As she was retelling the story of her reaction to the bad news, during the compensation meeting, Ethel said that when Rhoda had told her, she immediately thought:

“brata blo mi mas save”, literally, “my brother must know”. “Mas”, in Solomon Islands Pidgin could be equally translated as ‘ought to’. In this case, it seems to me that the sentence was intended to express some form of moral obligation. “Brother”, then, was used to refer to someone who is at once related through marriage links and with whom the speaker feels a strong bond. The two are part of a group, in this sense. “Mi” indicates the speaker, excluding anyone else (see Table 5.4). It is not that, at the time, she considered herself separated from other people. True, had she still been married to the victim’s cross cousin, instead of being his widow, she might have used the term “mifala”, literally ‘we’. But I rather tend to think that, when she used the term “mi”, she intended to stress that it was her own duty to report.

In this sense, although I began with a discussion of Gluckman’s theory of gossip, it seems that I am concluding this section with a hint at Graeber’s theory of value as the importance of social action (Graeber, 2001). Besides, Graeber himself looks at Munn’s argument that witchcraft and sorcery accusations are behaviours that can be interpreted in two opposing ways. From an egalitarian point of view, witchcraft and sorcery accusations in Gawa are intended to suppress the ‘destructive hyperindividualism’ of some; from an individualistic point of view, Gawans assert that equality shall be maintained in order to

215 “create a situation where everyone is free to enter into exchange relations, engage in kula, and thus, spread their own individual names in all directions” (Ibid.: 84). Both interpretive pathways are feasible, because Gawans are, according to Munn, both egalitarian and individualistic. In this section, I was trying to say something similar about Kwara’ae people, and particularly about their culture of gossip and rumour. Indeed, the opposition between these two interpretive possibilities mirrors the one between Gluckman and Paine. While the rumour phase of this case would easily fit within Gluckman’s theory of gossip as the assertion of group values, the gossip phase would fit within Paine’s theory of gossip as motivated purely by self-interest.

Table 5.4 Pidgin personal pronouns and their relational meaning

Pidgin English Includes Excludes

Iumifala We The speaker, the interlocutor, and Anyone else their groups Iumi We The speaker and the interlocutor The interlocutor’s group Mifala We The speaker and his/her group The interlocutor and his/her group Iufala You The interlocutor and his/her The speaker and his/her group group Iu You The interlocutor The speaker, his/her group, and the interlocutor’s group Mi I The speaker The interlocutor, his/her group, and the speaker’s group Tufala You two, Two interlocutors or subjects Anyone else or the two

216 My aim in this sub-section was not to overcome this contradiction with a ‘third way’, or an overarching principle that would isolate the common denominator between the two opposing theoretical approaches. My aim was simply to argue that one single model cannot account for what happened in this case. Indeed, the case illustrates that gossip can change function depending on the intention of the gossiper. Thus, it is not that gossip is either the expression of group values or individual interests. It could be both, depending on the relationship between gossiper, gossiped, and recipient. The way in which these relationships changed over the course of the case is the theme of the next sub-section.

b. Accuser and accused

How did the chiefs achieve the rearrangement of relationships? I claim that they did so through their interrogations. Since it might be difficult to understand how these relationships changed over the course of the case (given the numerous character switching position and role), I drew the diagram below.

It shows the relationships between the people who gathered in the police station. I make use of this diagram to refer to the state of four sets of relationships at the beginning and at the end of the meeting. The reader might recall that, in the first part of the chapter,

I presented the disposition of people in the office. Then, I contrasted it with the distribution of people during the break, when we were all waiting in front of the police station. Above, I hinted at the fact that the “rearrangement of relationships had already started”. Figure 5.4 is meant to represent such relational change, which occurred between the first and the second part of the meeting.

These relationships can be looked at in various ways, depending on which perspective one adopts, and how the people are visually grouped. One way to do so is to

217 draw lines that separate and/or unite the different groups. This exercise brings up the following four points.

Figure 5.4 Four sets of oppositions in the police station

(1) Firstly, we can recognize the opposition between the accusers and the accused.

On the one side, the accusers: Rhoda, George, and his relatives; on the other, the accused:

Hugh, Jane, and her relatives.

(2) Secondly, if we group together the accused with the accusers on one side, and the police with the local chiefs on the other, we see that the room can be divided between those who seek judgement and those who are expected to provide it. That is not to say that the role of the police staff and that of the chiefs were the same.

218 (3) Much to the contrary, and this is the third point, the local chiefs were more concerned with Malaitan kastom than with the national constitution, which was the prerogative of the police. Their different roles are portrayed in their being seated separately. Nevertheless, as I tried to illustrate with my ethnographic account, the different roles of the police staff and the local chiefs were compatible in their differences. Indeed, on the one hand, the local chiefs intended to make use of the enforcing power of the law to make sure their kastom was respected, and, on the other, the police were committed to providing a space in which Malaitan kastom could be exercised within the limits of the law.

(4) Fourthly, the diagram provides a visual representation of how kinship, literally, cuts across the opposition between accused and accusers (1). This is due to the position of

Rhoda, who was siding with the accusers while at the same time being genealogically linked to the accused. However, Rhoda’s position did not remain stable during the meeting. She moved from being perceived as part of the accuser’s group to being perceived as against it, from being interpreted according to Gluckman’s theory to being interpreted through the lens of Paine’s theory.

The reason for this is at the very crux of the compensation meeting. When the meeting began, we were all persuaded that George would receive compensation for the death of his brother. After hours of questioning, it became clear that this was not going to happen, and compensation was rather being claimed against the misuse of the victim’s name. As the reason for the compensation claim changed, also Rhoda’s position changed.

As a gossiper, Rhoda was sitting in the same area of the accuser’s group. But then, when the chiefs and the police established that the gossip was unprovable and suspected Rhoda had used it to attack her sister, she stopped being part of that group. Not being part of the other group either, she suddenly found herself isolated, a condition that I tried to depict

219 with a grey square (4). That was the point in which compensation started to be realized in its essential meaning and function, that of a rearrangement of relationships.

However, it took the authorities a long time and considerable effort to reach this outcome. In order to rearrange the relationships between accuser, accused and gossiper, they had to understand these relationships in the first place. To do so, they interrogated everyone, crosschecked different versions, and came up with their own interpretation. “In all societies there are everyday ways of evaluating evidence, and not all stories are accepted as simply true. A great deal depends on who is telling the stories and what their perceived motive for spreading gossip actually is, that is, their own self-advancement, revenge, hatred, jealousy, and so on” (Stewart & Strathern, 2004: 30). These are the motives the chiefs identified behind Rhoda’s gossip. So, why did they condemn her sister too?

4) Outcome: rearranged relationships

a. Why Jane?

Sorcery trials in many societies are meant to identify wrongdoers. However, the extent to which this corresponds to punishing them and/or purging society from them depends largely on the particular perspective authorities have on the notion of the desired outcome.

Let’s begin with the concrete form of the compensation in this particular case. One tafuli’ae is considered to be the appropriate compensation for a reasonably severe wrongdoing. This is for reasons that do not strictly relate to its material value.15 What matters to the people transacting it is rather its symbolic value. A tafuli’ae symbolizes the

15 As for the material value of tafuli’ae, Kwara’ae people do not really make a big deal of it, as opposed to Langalanga people, who produce them and have a more standardized categorization (Burt, Akin and Kwa’ioloa, 2009: 59).

220 value of unity in diversity. Indeed, a brief analysis of its materials and the way these are arranged clearly illustrates this point.

Figure 5.5 Simplified tafuli’ae

A tafuli’ae (see Fig. 5.5) is made up of four types of shell (kakadu,16 kurila,17 ke,18 and romu19) reworked into round chips, two types of seed (fulu20 and kekete21), all tied together with strings obtained from the bark of two types of trees, either fa’alo or lili. Each end of a tafuli’ae culminates with a set of red cloth stripes representing the blood of two people who, for whatever reason, look at each other as separate. The mid-section of a tafuli’ae is made of chips of romu, the most rare and valuable type of shell. Like the cloth stripes, romu chips are red, thus representing blood in their own turn. The mid-section terminates at both ends with a spacer made of wood or turtle shell, which divides it from a series of other segments. The shell pattern of these segments varies depending on the type of tafuli’ae. It might be an alternation of disks of kurila and galia, or a segment made of ke only. What’s

16 Kw., gwarigwari; sc. name: arca granosa. 17 Kw., kurila; sc. name: pinna. 18 Kw., tutu. 19 Kw., romu; sc. name: chama pacifica. 20 Kw., fulu; sc. name: gesneriaceae. 21 Kw., mumu; sc. name: ciperaceae

221 symbolically relevant, however, is that these segments are always in even numbers, whereas the central part is always unique. Kwara’ae people understand this aesthetic arrangement to be indicative of the particular function of tafuli’ae, namely to turn duality and difference into unity and sameness. This is represented by the reproduction of the metaphor of blood at both ends and the centre, which symbolizes the unification of two bloods into one. When

Kwara’ae people give a tafuli’ae, therefore, they are making a statement about their relationship.

As mentioned in the first part, the chiefs considered Rhoda and Jane to be equally responsible. They said it explicitly, and concretized such opinion in a demand for equal compensations. But, were the women equally responsible? At the time when I first heard the final judgement, it left me thoroughly perplexed. Towards the end of the meeting I was reasonably sure that Rhoda would be charged. I was not expecting Jane to be charged as well, nor was I persuaded that she had been guilty in the first place. Thus, when Nathan pronounced the decision of the chiefs, I thought, “this does not make sense”. Indeed, I was thinking, it was Rhoda who had talked to Ethel and initiated the gossip about Jack’s murder. Jane could not do anything to prevent Rhoda from doing that, nor had she done anything to encourage her acts. So, in what sense was Jane responsible for the damage inflicted on George? What was the real reason why the chiefs demanded her compensation? Similarly, I was pondering, it was Rhoda who had endangered Hugh, not

Jane. Much to the contrary, Jane had become endangered as Rhoda started to spread the rumour. George’s relatives held it against her family, and some wished to attack her house, regardless of who was inside. So, again, Jane was a victim, not a perpetrator. And yet she was requested to compensate her own husband. Why?

222 Before attempting to answer this question, I would like to highlight a further point.

Jane paid her compensation to George at the end of the meeting, straight away. She gave the money to Hugh and he handed it to George. The reason why I find that interesting is that Solomon Islanders do not usually walk around with SBD$ 1,000 in their pockets. The fact that Jane had such a sum on her proves that she expected to be asked to compensate.

That does not mean that she was expecting to be considered responsible for what she was eventually held responsible. However, her expectations can be interpreted in relation to the outcome. The fact that she was expecting what eventually happened reveals that the she found the outcome, for some reason, reasonable to expect.

Rhoda and Jane were not asked to pay compensation because they had acted as ‘bad sisters’. They were asked to pay compensation for the disrespectful use of the name of a dead relative, and for putting the life of two men in danger. However, we have seen that the authorities established that it was Rhoda and not Jane who had committed these acts.

To put it briefly, the chiefs’ evidence charged one person, whereas their judgement charged two. That means that the difference between the evidence and the judgement shall be explained by what makes Rhoda and Jane similar or equal in the eyes of the authorities. I tend to think that what made them equally responsible in the eyes of the authorities was their being found acting as ‘bad sisters’. In other words, the causes and the reasons for the compensation are not the same. Firstly, Rhoda’s “guilt” and Jane’s “innocence” have been converted into their joint responsibility for spoelem nem. Secondly, they also had to pay for their misconduct as sisters by paying compensation to George and Hugh.

We begin to see that the outcome of the case cannot simply be explained in terms of wrongdoing and compensation. It is much more complex, and it is such complexity that

I tried to explore in this chapter. True, Rhoda was guilty of misusing the name of the

223 victim and of gossiping against Hugh. But the fact that her sister was charged too can only be explained by conflating Rhoda’s actions and the actions of both sisters into one single set of wrongdoings. And since they are connected to the rest of their community, the consequences of their wrongdoings affected it. It was therefore their responsibility to give something to their community as a way to re-establish peace. They had to compensate

George and Hugh because Rhoda had directly damaged them. But the underlying cause, a conflict between two sisters, required Jane to be punished too.

This conclusion, however, does not close the matter. To the contrary, it brings us to ask, why don’t the chiefs punish Jane and Rhoda directly for being bad sisters? Why don’t they punish Rhoda for what she did, and then organise another compensation meeting just for Jane and Rhoda to be judged on their morality as sisters? This question can be answered with another question: why should the chiefs organise a separate compensation meeting when they already had the opportunity to charge Rhoda only and decided instead to charge both sisters? They have already found a way to address the issues that were relevant for them; their own way indeed. So, in conclusion, what did they accomplish?

This question brings us back to the definition of what a compensation meeting is meant to be in Melanesia, and thus what function it is meant to have in Gilbert Camp.

b. “No mata iu no… bae iu givim nao”

The heading of this sub-section is an excerpt from a sentence pronounced by Phil, the

Police Officer (PO). He was responding to both Rhoda and Jane who kept insisting they had all sorts of reasons that justified their acts. Translated, it means more or less: “It does not matter whether you meant it or not. Now you have to give”. “To give”, obviously, refers to the act of paying compensation. What the PO meant was that the meeting had

224 reached a point in which all discussions had to come to an end, that the time had come to put the compensation mechanism into effect. I think that this notion of giving is key to understanding what kind of effect the compensation was meant to have.

If we do not assume that the whole point of a compensation meeting is to identify the culprit, then it would not seem so strange that someone who did not directly commit a wrongdoing is ‘condemned’. This brings us closer to understanding the chiefs’ request to

Jane. Rather than finding a particular person guilty of a particular wrongdoing, the meeting was intended to identify the person(s) who had the responsibility for restitution. The difference between someone who is looked at as guilty and someone who is looked at as responsible is crucial. The object of guilt and that of responsibility are not the same: guilt refers to wrongdoing, whereas responsibility refers to restitution. The former looks back at the past, the latter looks forwards towards the future. If we briefly look back at the context section, we might recall that in Kwara’ae kastom a man who suffered an offence would only seek compensation from the perpetrators as long as these could be identified. But, in case that is not possible, he would then regain his status by killing someone else, randomly. This institution suggests that the priority of restitution in Kwara’ae kastom is not to identify and punish the perpetrator, but rather to re-establish the victim’s condition as abu.

In order to make this possible it is necessary to identify the party who is

‘responsible for giving’, rather than ‘guilty of taking’. With regard to PNG, M. Strathern wrote: “First, compensation enrols a rhetoric of body expenditure, covering both physical and mental exertion, based on an image of body process as the giving out and taking in of resources. What is embedded as substance in artefacts and bodies is the energy with which persons have acted” (M. Strathern, 1999: 189). I argue that this is what Phil was hinting at.

The “energy with which people have acted” is embedded in the object of compensatory

225 transactions because this is the nature of what has been subtracted in the first place. The imbalance created by such subtraction has to be reconverted into balance through the re- insertion of an appropriate and proportionate amount of substance. The whole problem of a compensation meeting, then, is to determine who is responsible for this, who has to put his/her hand on his/her resources to recreate the pre-wrongdoing equilibrium.

The decisions of the chiefs, in this respect, took the form of transactions. Another passage by M. Strathern elucidates how compensatory transactions take effect on collectivity. She wrote: “collectivities differentiate, identify, and, in short, describe themselves by their role in compensation, a kind of functional heterogeneity. Compensation is part of the wider field of transactions by which social units are defined through exchange” (Ibid.: 191; my italics). This quote appositely describes one of the outcomes of the compensation case discussed in this chapter, namely the renegotiation of Jane’s position. Jane paid her compensation to George immediately and in front of everyone.

She wanted to get back to her normal life, thus making a statement about herself and her family as people of Gilbert Camp (pipol blo Gilbert Camp). She described herself as a legitimate member of the Gilbert Camp community through an act of exchange that countered Rhoda’s attempt, mentioned above, to make a ‘stranger’ of her with gossip.

George, on the other hand, declared that no further action had to be taken against

Hugh and his family. As he received his compensation, he made a statement about his position towards them and the rest of the community. I argue that this process of self- description, identification with members of the community, and differentiation from hostile strangers (cf. Ibid.: 191) is what makes the reorganisation of social relations possible, and is what the chiefs were after when they formulated their judgement.

226 In this chapter, I told the story of a land conflict that turned into a malevolent magic accusation, and of the ensuing meeting that forced two ‘bad sisters’ to compensate a man for the misuse of his brother’s name and for creating animosity between two families. In so doing, I have provided further evidence to prove the point, already defended by Max

Marwick (1965) and others, that sorcery accusations tend to emerge in response to socially stressful situations. In this case, the stress resulted from the confusion surrounding the issue of land in Gilbert Camp (see chapter 4). More importantly, I showed the process through which the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp deal with disputes between members of their community to avoid that such crises escalate into violence. In this way, I claim that they seek to maintain peace while, at the same time, safeguard the values according to which they want to live.

I explored various aspects that followed the death of a man and argued that these tell us much about such values. I began with an endorsement of Stewart and Strathern’s suggestion that anthropologists should look at accusations as historical products of people’s experiences. Then, I attempted to analyse this case as a process in order to describe the complex interactions between events and people. Such an analysis brought me to confirm

Stewart and Strathern’s contention that “in these historical and processual events the predominant patterns crucially involve the emergence of gossip and rumor between people as steps to the crystallization of suspicion into accusation”(Stewart & Strathern, 2004: 27).

Understanding the role of gossip and rumour in this case was fundamental to explore the arrangement of social relations. That, in turn, made it possible to understand the ways in which the compensation meeting rearranged such relations.

I looked at some important aspects of Kwara’ae cultural context in order to explore the current negotiations of the value of land, kinship, death, and names. These are values

227 that the series of events under analysis brought to the fore and that were concretized into actions such as Jacob’s double dealing, Jane’s purchase, Rhoda’s gossip, Ethel’s rumour,

George’s demand for compensation, and the chiefs’ final decision. I argue that the chiefs concluded the compensation meeting in this way because they believed that such was a beneficial outcome for the community.

However, some issues were left unresolved. In particular, the two sisters were still divided by their conflict over a piece of land. As mentioned above, the conflict was not resolved because that was not the intention of the chiefs in the first place. So, while on the one hand the conflict over land was not resolved, on the other hand the chiefs considered

Rhoda and Jane’s responsibility to compensate an accomplishment. The wrongdoers concretised values that Kwara’ae people recognise as foreign and wrong, and the compensation meeting was the instrument to counter such acts through the concretion of another set of values, i.e. those by which the Kwara’ae people want to live.

A case of Melanesian compensation that is not about finding the culprit but compensating the victim might not be an earthshattering discovery. Nonetheless, showing that the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp organised a ‘successful’ restitution within the walls of a police station supports my argument that they are currently making an effort to live under the aegis of kastom in the urban context. That, in turn, supports my overall thesis: by confronting the tensions that emerge from the incompatibilities between their urban life and their values, they seek to transform Gilbert Camp into a place where they can live a “good” life.

228

CHAPTER 6

“I AM IN DEBT TO MYSELF”:1 PENTECOSTAL CONVERSION IN GILBERT CAMP

Plate 6.1 Pentecostal men and women receiving the gifts of the Holy Spirit

“In the Kingdom Harvest Church they train people to earn money”.

Roswell

1 S.I. Pidgin: “Mi kaon lo mi seleva”.

229 1. Religion in Gilbert Camp

In the previous chapter, I analysed how the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp organised a hybrid restitution meeting within the walls of an urban police station in order to address a dispute among members of their community and safeguard their customary values. In this chapter, I turn to religious values within the household and see how religion plays a major role in the ways in which people cope with their everyday moral dilemmas (Geertz, 1973:

87-125). In particular, I analyse the influence of Pentecostalism on the ways in which

Kwara’ae people deal with their value tensions in Gilbert Camp households.

Pentecostal churches promote the diffusion of a value system (hereafter ‘the

Pentecostal message’) in which the value of capital accumulation is seen as “good” and coherent with the notion of a moral person. Thus, the Pentecostal message provides

Kwara’ae people with a categorical framework within which they can re-elaborate their moral ideas to fit their personal projects of economic development in the urban context.

My argument is that they do so through a selection of which Pentecostal values they intend to appropriate and a creative re-elaboration of these values operated with daily negotiations with the members of their households.

It might not be news that the Gospel of Prosperity promotes the values of material wealth and physical health (cf. Robbins, 2010: 170-171). What I am interested in exploring, however, is how it does that in my context of study. Among the many aspects one can look at in order to see how Pentecostalism influences the values of a people, I look at the domestic moral economy of the Kwara’ae household and at Kwara’ae gendered values. I have outlined my understanding and application of the concept of domestic moral economy in chapter 3. As for the second aspect, in this chapter I move from the contention that the processes of conversion are gender specific (Gooren, 2010: 93-112). In

230 this sense, it is not only Pentecostalism that influences values, including gender values, but

Kwara’ae values and especially gender values too influence the ways in which

Pentecostalism is received. Men and women experience conversion in different ways, but they also influence each other’s conversion as a consequence of their reciprocal influence as gendered subjects. Therefore, it is necessary to look at gender roles and at ideal conceptions of male and female personhood in order to understand what particular aspect of the Pentecostal message people are interested in receiving and/or receptive to.

I begin with a brief sketch of the different Christian doctrines in Gilbert Camp.

Then, I present two case studies, which provide two concrete examples of the ways in which Pentecostal conversion takes place in Gilbert Camp. In the second section, I discuss these cases of Pentecostal conversion in the context of the broader religious situation in

Gilbert Camp. Finally, in the third section, I examine a set of theoretical and methodological issues that emerge from my analysis.

To anticipate an argument that will be developed below, Pentecostalism provides

Kwara’ae people with a framework in which they can elaborate new forms of male and female personhood and self. Such a framework is created by the interplay of the process of conversion, the set of Pentecostal disciplinal prescriptions, and some income-generating activities learnt in sessions of domestic economy. Such interpretation of the influence of the Pentecostal message, it follows, is based on the assumption that Kwara’ae people did not develop their material expectations as a consequence of their encounter with the

Pentecostal message. I think that it is the other way round. They used to have aspirations that pre-existed their encounter with the Pentecostal message. Then, it was through that encounter that those aspirations were transformed into projects, framed in religious terms, and given shape into gendered ideals of personhood and self.

231 Pentecostal Kwara’ae conceive of their life projects on the assumption that material wealth and physical health constitute a state of plenitude that they are meant to experience during their lifetime. That is coherent with the main tenets of the Pentecostal Gospel of

Prosperity. However, saying that the Gospel of Prosperity transforms people into better capitalists would be a rather economistic interpretation of Pentecostalism, one literature has already commented upon, usually in less essentialist ways (cf. D. Martin, 2002; Barker, 2007;

Meyer, 2007; Berger, 2010). The influence of Pentecostalism on economic behaviour, indeed, should be interpreted in the light of the mediation and filtering of cultural values.

There is, in fact, a series of cultural elements that reject, filter, and alter the ways in which

Pentecostalism changes the lives of people, their behaviour, and their values. As I mentioned above, I deal with just two of them, namely gender and the “good” way of using money in the household.

With the term ‘gender’, I do not refer to biological sex (i.e. the state of being male, female or intersex), nor to the psychological dimension of gender identity, even though it is through reference to biological and psychological traits that Kwara’ae people most commonly discuss gender differences. So, although I refer to ‘gender’ as sex-based social structures and gender roles, that is not necessarily the meaning that Kwara’ae people would give to their distinction between ‘woman’ (kini) and ‘man’ (ngwae). My outsider perspective is to look at how their ideas on biological distinction differentiate economic and religious roles. In other words, biological differences morph into an ideology of gender roles, the

Kwara’ae sexual division of labour, and the relationship between husband and wife. Hence, it is on the basis of the mutual influence of Pentecostalism and these gendered values, social arrangements, and personal relationships that major daily tensions are dealt with in the Kwara’ae Pentecostal households of Gilbert Camp; and sometimes resolved.

232 It follows that the process I am looking at concerns just a portion of the Gilbert

Camp population. In the second chapter I briefly presented the religious situation in the settlement. I noted that the two churches with the highest attendance are the ACOM and the SSEC. I also noted that, above all the other denominations, Pentecostal churches constitute the third most popular form of Christianity. Among the Pentecostal Christians of Gilbert Camp we can find people attending the AOG, the Christian Outreach Centre

(COC), the Kingdom Harvest Ministry International (KHMI), the Bible Way Centre

(BWC), and the United Pentecostal Church (UPC). These are all churches that were initiated rather recently, thereby introducing changes that are still visible in the tensions with the other religious groups. These tensions are not only due to the bare disapproval of those who abandon their denomination of origin, a fact that is often blamed as if it was a sort of mutiny. There is something about Pentecostalism that makes Pentecostal converts look more criticisable than other groups, namely their different worship styles and their focus on money. As a consequence of these differences, Pentecostal households can become quite disconnected from the rest of the community, and tend to insulate themselves in clusters of neighbouring households.

Classic Pentecostal worship style includes glossolalia, shouting, crying, falling on the ground, shaking, and other charismatic behaviours. These are associated with the reception of the gifts of the Holy Spirit. The believer becomes able to prophesize, to understand and interpret glossolalic speeches, to heal with hands, and other gifts mentioned in Biblical sources.2 Although these practices are not exclusive to Pentecostal denominations,3

2 See, for instance, Corinthians, 12: 4-11, 12: 27-31, Romans, 12: 3-8 and Ephesians 4: 7-16. 3 These practices can be found within other Charismatic churches or groups, such as the Charismatic Renewal in the Roman Catholic Church.

233 Christians of other denominations mock their Pentecostal acquaintances because of such enthusiastic and spectacular ways of worshipping. Indeed, it is undeniable that Charismatic practices are very different from the classic liturgies practiced by, among others, Anglican,

Evangelical, or Catholic Christians. That is why non-Charismatic Christians find these practices very unorthodox, and make commentaries such as “Pentecostals only go to church to shout and dance, that is not a religion”. These stigmatizations create anxieties and promote separations in kinship networks in Gilbert Camp. Indeed, it can be problematic for members of the same family or residential group to belong to different denominations, especially if they used to be part of the same church for a long time in the past. On the other hand, stigmatizations such as the ones mentioned above can be used to attack people with whom a relationship broke down for reasons that are not necessarily religious in the first place. In addition, besides the aforementioned disapproval against

‘religious mutiny’, Pentecostal Christians have to face the allegation of ‘inauthentic

Christianity’ because of their worship practices. In fact, some of the Pentecostal churches in Honiara were created by previously non-Pentecostal believers who had been ostracized from their churches because they had worshipped in a charismatic style.4 For all these reasons, Pentecostals mostly spend time with other Pentecostals.

The other reason for inter-denominational tensions is the Pentecostal focus on money. Converts to Pentecostal churches are frequently accused of being corrupt in their faith, or at least to have a sort of conflict of interests. Allegations often point to some form of economic benefit that would have allegedly motivated their conversion. Although this is

4 One example is the Rhema Family Church, in Honiara. Israel Kwa’otea, to give another example, was chased from the SSEC committee of Kilusakwalo (West Kwara’ae, Malaita) because of his charismatic tendencies. He later created the Revival Centre in Auki (Malaita).

234 usually unsubstantial gossip, it is undeniable that the structure of an average Pentecostal church makes economic resources relatively easier to mobilize. While the hierarchical and highly-formalized organization of churches such as the ACOM, the RCC, or the SSEC requires financial resources to be channelled through controlled bureaucratic itineraries, the more egalitarian structure of Pentecostal churches allows the pastor to dispose of the church income in a much more independent way. I observed one conversion that took place after a local Pentecostal pastor provided substantial assistance towards the organization of the convert’s wedding feast. That is not to say that other churches do not help their members in similar ways. But, for the reasons mentioned above, it is much easier to obtain material help from a Pentecostal pastor, which is arguably one reason why

Pentecostal converts are rumoured to be opportunists. Rumours are also caused, however, by vulgarised versions of the Gospel of Prosperity that focus solely on the individual capacities to generate a profit. Although not all Pentecostal Christians manage to improve their financial conditions as a consequence of following this message, negative opinions concerning the problematic relationship between Pentecostalists and money result in their

‘bad reputation’. In sum, be it because of different worship styles or for allegations of corrupted conversions, Pentecostals households can be rather isolated from the rest of the community.

Notwithstanding these tensions, recent quantitative studies showed that Pentecostal churches keep growing in Solomon Islands. Manfred Ernst, for example, observed that between 1986 and 1999 the rate of growth of Pentecostal and charismatic churches in

Solomon Islands was as high as 280%. His argument, however, is that such growth was mainly due to conversions to Pentecostalism of people from previously non-Christian groups, rather than from other forms of Christianity (Ernst, 2006: 174). I tend to disagree

235 with this position. Ernst’s conclusion was based upon statistics from the 1999 Population and Housing Census. In 1998, the Ethnic Tensions made the collection of data for this census particularly difficult, especially in those areas marked by the prevalence of non-

Christians beliefs, often considered to be the places where militants were hiding. This brings me to question the reliability of the original data, particularly if used to support the position advanced by Ernst. My impression is rather that the growth of Pentecostal churches is mainly due to conversions from mainline Christian churches. In addition, my survey (see Appendix F) reveals that Pentecostalism is now a major form of Christianity in the urban context, where the presence of non-Christians is statistically very low among

Solomon Islanders. Finally, my list of Pentecostal churches (see Appendix I) counts almost forty different groups in Honiara, which also supports my claim that their growth results from conversions of Christians from other denominations.

Thus, the question that emerges from this state of affairs is, why do Solomon Island

Christians in the urban context convert to Pentecostalism notwithstanding the tensions mentioned above? I believe that the main reason why Pentecostalism grows, not just in

Solomon Islands but in many other parts of the world, is because of its “ability to adapt to diverse cultural contexts” (Anderson et al., 2010: 1). In this chapter, I show that

Pentecostalism does respond to something the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp perceive as the problematic moral status of the person who makes money. It does so by influencing the ways in which Kwara’ae people think of monetary accumulation; by introducing the category of ‘converted person’ as a person who is in control of her money; and by providing a set of coherent ideas about money generation and accumulation with which people can attempt to resolve some basic incompatibilities between their need to make money and the imperatives of sharing, which I described in chapter 3.

236 However, as mentioned above, I do not intend to claim that Pentecostalism influences the ways in which Kwara’ae people negotiate their values in a straightforward way. They are selective in their reception of the Pentecostal message. In particular, they receive it through the filter created by the opposition between male and female roles. It is on the basis of such selective reception that Pentecostal Kwara’ae put strategies, especially moral and economic strategies, in place to become “good” persons according to a notion that evaluates accumulation by formulating it in terms of responsibility. In so doing,

Pentecostalism provides Kwara’ae people with a framework to negotiate their life projects of monetary accumulation, but a framework that is resilient enough to accommodate, and at the same time reformulate, their values of manhood and womanhood.

In order to support my argument, I will analyse two case studies. The first supports the claim that gender differences filter the ways in which Kwara’ae people receive the

Pentecostal message and undertake conversion. The second shows that Pentecostalism promotes the diffusion of a morally acceptable definition of monetary accumulation through the juxtaposition of the categories of the ‘converted’ and ‘unconverted person’.

Combined, these two case studies suggest that the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp make a selective and creative use of Pentecostal values in order to deal with the tensions that they experience in the urban context, thereby adapting to it.

1) “My wife converted me”

When I was working on my demographic survey, I had the opportunity to ask the conversion question many times a day. As I mentioned in chapter 1, rather than filling up a questionnaire, I was collecting my quantitative data while simultaneously conducting semi- structured interviews. Such routine allowed me to ask a considerable amount of questions

237 and digress if the need arose. That was often the case with the conversion question, because behind a conversion there is almost always a story to tell. My digression usually started with a question such as: “Did you convert before or after your marriage?” That was nothing more than a simplified version of the question: “Have you converted as a result of a personal choice that was unrelated to your spouse’s affiliation, or was your conversion a consequence of your marriage to a member of another church?” In some households I could collect pretty straightforward answers to this question, such as “I converted to follow my husband”. However, in many Pentecostal households I encountered men who said they converted after marriage, and who nevertheless affirmed that they converted because of a personal choice.

That is just one of the infinite possible ways in which the complexity of social life challenges the heuristic potential of quantitative surveys. I believe that when informants do not recognize themselves in the categories of an either-or question, that could reveal the presence of an unexplored category, an uncharted concept, and an unfamiliar reality worth being investigated. That is why, rather than ticking either box A or B, I enquired further, asked more questions, and engaged in more conversations. This enquiry provided me with interesting insights into the meaning of Pentecostal conversion and its significance in the relationship between husband and wife. It is in this way that I came across the equivocal statement that gives the title to this section.

“My wife converted me”, Stephen told me once. He did not mean that his wife had convinced him to leave the Anglican church and join her Pentecostal church.5 Indeed, like

5 The theme of the wife who convinces her husband to give up unchristian habits, join her Pentecostal church, and progress towards a Christian form of masculine identity is very common in

238 many other men who converted after their marriage, he considered his conversion to be the result of an independent decision. Men who, like Stephen, insist so much on the independent character of their post-connubial conversion, do so for two main sets of reasons: firstly, because they do not want to represent their conversion as anything less than the result of their fervent initiative;6 secondly, because they do not want to describe themselves as anything less than Malaitan men who, by virtue of their patriarchal ideology, should not ‘follow’ their wife, but rather be followed by her.7 Their insistence should not be interpreted as an attempt to mystify the reality that, contrary to what they affirm, they did convert after their marriage because of reasons related to the marriage itself and the affiliation of their wife. Rather, I think that the meaning of the statement “my wife converted me” has to be sought in the context in which it was produced, as well as the context it makes reference to.

the literature about Pentecostalism and gender in South America (see, for example, Hallum, 2003: 178) and Africa (see, for example, Soothill, 2007: 214). 6 The differences between male and female attitudes towards post-marital conversion in Kwara’ae Pentecostal households have noteworthy similarities with the gendered experiences of conversion elsewhere. Eriksen observed that Pentecostal pastors in Port Vila emphasise a personal aspect in their conversion narrative. As she writes, “[w]hen these men receive visions from the Holy Spirit, it always happens in solitude and takes the form of personal messages” (Eriksen, 2012: 113). In other words, the pastor changes his status in moments of separation from the congregation, and recognizes himself as the ‘chosen one’. In contrast, female prophetesses are chosen by the congregation on the basis of their being recognized as mediums between the Holy Spirit and the congregation. As Eriksen writes, “[t]he prophetess, who understood her ability to receive the Spirit after having been troubled with strange dreams for instance, did not encounter the Holy Spirit in the same way as the founding pastor. She did not hear a voice or confront a fire. She did not encounter the Holy Spirit in a one-to-one manner. The Holy Spirit did not have a personal message for her. Rather, she did not really understand what was going on before she was told by other prophetesses” (Ibid: 115). In a similar vein, Kwara’ae husbands tend to present their post-connubial conversion as the result of an independent choice, whereas their wives generally describe it as a consequence of their relationships. 7 Brereton too identified gendered narratives of conversion, where men tend to avoid explanations of their conversion that would put their masculinity in danger, such as “I converted because I was afraid of going to hell” (Brereton, 1991: 99).

239 Stephen meant what he said, but that does not mean that the meaning was unambiguous. So, what did he mean?

2) “I am in debt to myself”

In Gilbert Camp, as I mentioned in chapter 3, I have visited several households where husband and wife were making use of their time together to engage in some form of income-generating activity, such as baking cakes or printing labels on t-shirts. Among them, there were several Pentecostal households in which such activities were understood as gateways to Pentecostal prosperity. In these households, I observed couples cooperating to improve their financial conditions in ways that concretize many of the lessons they learn in training sessions organized in their churches. By this, I do not imply that they were simply reproducing behaviours they were told to take up. Much to the contrary, they were making a creative use of those lessons of domestic economy, income-generating activities, and Bible studies. The following vignette from my ethnography provides an example of this.

Instead of paying for retailed products in the corner shops, nowadays a growing number of people in Gilbert Camp buy a stock of processed foods in wholesale distributors and sell them to their relatives, within their own household, and even to themselves. For example, Mark, the head of a Pentecostal household, buys a stock of tinned tuna and stores it in his house. Every time his wife Jodie wants a tin, she does not just take it from the stock, but pays for it. Mark requests her to do so for every meal she cooks, with no exception. When she has no money, he writes down her debt on a family kaon buk (see chapter 3). That has important consequences on the definition of household as unit of social reproduction, given that its classic formulation excludes the generation of surplus.

240 But the extraction of a profit is not the fundamental element of this arrangement.

It should be noted that Mark is as diligent in recording his wife’s debts as he is with his own debts. Above, I mentioned that people who practice this form of trade can even sell to themselves. As I was asking Mark some questions about his family kaon buk, I noticed he had written his own name down.

Rodolfo: This is your name, so, who are you indebted to?

Mark: To myself, I am in debt to myself.

So, the point seems not to be that Mark is gaining a profit by selling to his wife at market rates, because he does the same with himself. As Jodie confirmed, they agreed that she buys from him and that he buys from himself. She said there is a reason for that. And the reason she gave was the same as I collected from other friends and informants who are practicing this form of domestic commercialisation of food stocks. They explained that this is a way to prevent the money constituting the marginal profit of the seller to exit the boundaries of the house. By keeping that money inside, they are trying to avoid the drain of resources that by nature the market represents in their eyes. “Why should I give that money to the man running the store in front of my house? I can run a store inside my house, instead!” a mature man from East Kwara’ae told me once.

This is a saving strategy,8 i.e. a practice that is not intended to generate money, but rather to prevent its appropriation by someone else. However, if Jodie sells home baked cakes and uses her profits to buy the retailed tins that her husband bought in the wholesale

8 Cf. Annis, 2010: 75-106; Mariz, 1994: 81-162, Sjørup, 2002: 25.

241 store, her profit is redistributed inside the household. With the profit made from the domestic sale of tins, Mark can do other things in his own turn, or just put some money aside. Thus, following market rules and adapting them to domestic kinship norms, Jodie and Mark, who do not have formal employment, manage to make enough money to feed their children, pay school fees and, at the same time, save for the cycle to continue.

Among the many questions that emerge from this case study, two are particularly relevant for the argument advanced in this chapter. How can Mark and Jodie sell at market rates to each other even if, according to Kwara’ae kinship values, this is a form of fangata’a

(selfish) behaviour, which is inappropriate between husband and wife? And what did Mark mean when he said, “I am in debt to myself”?

2. Conversion and discipline

In order to answer the questions that the two case studies generate it is necessary to look at the religious situation of Gilbert Camp from the point of view of Kwara’ae people. In the next section, I discuss research materials of different sorts to illustrate Kwara’ae people’s experience of conversion as a long-term process that requires a sort of spiritual discipline.

Subsequently, I will make use of such discussion to argue that the statements of Stephen and Mark epitomize the value negotiations (regarding conversion, gender, and money) that take place in Kwara’ae Pentecostal homogenous households.

To begin with, the two case studies shall be looked at from the perspective of

Pentecostal homogenous households, i.e. households where everybody including the head of the household and his wife are members of the same denomination. This occurs in spite of a major contemporary tendency: religiously mixed households are more and more common, probably as a consequence of the increase in people mobility and the growth of

242 local parishes, both in the urban and rural context. Pentecostal homogeneity is perhaps due to the strong emphasis that Pentecostal leaders put on the evangelistic responsibility of the individual. It is very common, indeed, that a person converts to Pentecostalism as a consequence of his/her spouse’s conversion.

Figure 6.1 Percentage of denominational changes

That shall not be considered an exclusive feature of Pentecostal Christians, though.

Post-marital conversion is not specific to any denomination, although there are important differentiations to make, especially related to gender. In all churches, women tend to change their denomination and join that of their husband immediately after their wedding.

In contrast, men who change their affiliation to join a new church tend to do so for reasons that are not related to their marriage, albeit taking place post-connubially.

In any case, changes of denomination are not very common. Only 23% of women and 17% of men change their denomination during their life, arguably because of the strong criticism, mentioned above, that denominational change generates.

243 Even if post-connubial conversion is not exclusive to Pentecostal Christians, at least one major difference suggests we consider couples that convert to Pentecostalism as different (as far as their conversion is concerned). This aspect is the meaning itself of converting to Pentecostalism and the process of becoming Pentecostal. In other words, the difference between patterns of conversion in different churches shall not be found in the quantitative weight of Pentecostal conversions, but rather in their qualitative aspects.

Indeed, the notion of conversion is not the same in all denominations. Let us take three examples.

(1) In the ACOM, membership is granted by going through a set of ritual practices, namely infant baptism by aspersion and oil anointment, confirmation, and first communion. (2) In the SSEC, one becomes a member after undertaking adult baptism by immersion and Holy Communion. (3) In Pentecostal churches, instead, there is no fixed procedure to become a member. For example, in the constitution of the KHMI, one of the largest Pentecostal churches in Honiara, an informal subscription to the objectives of the

Ministry is enough to be granted full membership. The prospective member is not even required to experience the Baptism of the Holy Spirit, although some believe this to be the fundamental aspect of conversion.

Some believers do experience the baptism of the Holy Spirit before being granted membership to a Pentecostal church. However, in most cases it takes some time before one ‘learns’ to receive any kind of charismatic gift, such as the glossolalic speech that is considered to be the evidence of being born-again. It is commonly understood that becoming a Christian is a process, rather than a sudden event (cf. Gooren, 2010: 93-112).

244 To be sure, the narrative of the break with the past9 is as appealing to converts as it is to anthropologists, but the experience of most, if not all, Pentecostal Christians is rather one of continuous backsliding and redemption (cf. Austin-Broos, 2003: 1).

Becoming a Pentecostal Christian, thus, is a process that is at the same time dependent and independent from church membership. It is dependent to the extent that becoming a member of a community of believers provides the context in which the believer develops typically Pentecostal notions of “wrong” and attempts to break free from them. It is independent to the extent that respecting Pentecostal rules and prescriptions is a matter of personal discipline. One can certainly seek the forgiveness of the pastor, but this is not necessary, encouraged, or compulsory.

This brings us to the second aspect that shall be analysed in order to understand how an average member of a Pentecostal church in Honiara moves within the membership framework. We have just looked at how one can gain membership in three types of churches in Honiara. Let us now look at how one maintains such an association, i.e. by being obedient to what can be termed ‘spiritual discipline’. Again, as for church membership, the notion of spiritual discipline varies depending on the church one belongs to. Let’s look at three examples again.

(1) In the ACOM, the Bible is considered to be the basis for the Anglican notion of wrongdoing. When a sin is committed, the pathway towards forgiveness and reconciliation is clearly outlined. A sinner shall seek the assistance of a priest, confess, repent, perform a set of rituals, usually prayers, in order to restore membership to the church. (2) In the

SSEC too, the Bible is taken as the basis for the general code of conduct. However,

9 Cf. Engelke, 2010; McCauley, 2013; Meyer, 1998; Van Dijk, 1998; and many others.

245 Biblical laws are understood as principles on the basis of which other rules and regulations can be formulated. This is the case of the extra-biblical prohibition to chew betel nut. A notable difference lies in the set of punishments that are used against a sinner or wrongdoer. These punishments are commonly referred to as ‘Discipline’, and consist of the prohibition to enter a church during the Sunday service, or the humiliation of sitting in the last bench row. Discipline periods can last for several months and, as time passes, the repentant is gradually allowed to sit in rows that are closer and closer to the altar. It goes without saying that many Solomon Islanders prefer to change denomination rather than subject themselves to this sort of treatment, which they usually see as an exaggerated devaluation of their status.

(3) In contrast, in Pentecostal churches in Honiara no particular emphasis is placed on sin, wrongdoing, or crime per se. Crime is considered to be wrong in principle, but emphasis is rather put on the fact that “if you commit a crime you go to jail if they catch you”. Wrongdoing and sin are also considered to be something one should refrain from, but the church staff does not get involved in guiding the wrongdoer towards redemption, as is the case in the ACOM, nor does it require him to undertake a period of discipline as may happen in the SSEC.

This discussion concerning membership and discipline brings us to two determinations that are fundamental for the argument advanced in this chapter. Firstly, post-connubial converts to Pentecostal churches do not have to undertake any particular process in order to gain full church membership. Secondly, the continuation of their membership is not conditional upon their obedience to norms, rules, or laws. They are fully responsible for their conduct, and do not have to be accountable to anyone else but

246 themselves. This, after all, is not surprising, since it is in accord with the typically

Pentecostal principle of direct relationship with God (cf. Huber and Huber, 2010: 133).

However, I think that the individual responsibility of the believer provides much weaker incentives to refrain from acts that are perceived to be wrong or sinful. I am not saying that Solomon Islanders, and humans in general, do necessarily act wrongfully

(according to their own definition of ‘wrong’) when they are not threatened with any sort of negative incentive. I side with Socrates and Adam Smith in affirming that they do not.

Rather, I am saying that if Pentecostal Solomon Islanders were to rely only on the principles upheld by their pastors, they would have but their own discipline as a deterrent from acts considered to be sinful or wrong. Their absolution and reconciliation with God would depend entirely on their own relationship with him.

In the SSEC, as I mentioned, members of the church staff force the wrongdoer into “Discipline”. That is a strong deterrent against possible wrongdoings, because of the heavy burden of shame that results from being required to sit close to the church exit. In contrast, Pentecostal pastors tend to make their list of negative incentives against un-

Christian acts in rather functional terms: do not commit crimes, “because you go to jail if they catch you”; don’t drink alcohol, smoke cigarettes or chew betel nut, because that drains your finances and decreases your health; and so on and so forth. Emphasis, in other words, is not placed on the idea that one should act rightfully because that is right. Rather, the idea that is usually communicated in sermons, training groups, and even daily activities, is that one should act rightfully because it is better.

By better, they imply a concept of the good that is coherent with the values that

Pentecostal pastors systematize in their sermons and speeches. Pastors and adherents emphasize that when one is “good” and acts in a “good” way, one becomes someone who

247 has an education, a job, is healthy, and financially independent. Furthermore, such a condition is considered to be really fulfilling only when one extends such personal development to all the people one is associated with, such as family members, church mates, and the society as a whole. And money is considered to be a common denominator of all these aspects. Getting an education requires money, starting a business requires money, maintaining good health requires money, and so on and so forth. Securing an income, however, does not mean that one will be able to use the money as wisely as the pastors suggest one should. Again, it is not a matter of avoiding alcohol, cigarettes, betel nut, and all the rest because it is right, but rather because it is better, because that would prevent the believer from taking up habits that are perceived to involve a drain on health and wealth.

In summary, the individual member of a Pentecostal church has the responsibility of his or her own discipline as he or she proceeds through the process of acquisition of habits and behaviours leading towards the condition of health and wealth that is considered to be the symbol of prosperity in Pentecostal Christianity. However, according to the pastor of one of the largest Pentecostal denominations in Honiara, it is very difficult for

Solomon Islanders to discipline themselves to this set of habits and behaviours. On the one hand, the poverty and isolation of the urban context encourage addiction to substances, which soon become the best companions of an average masta liu. On the other hand, many Pentecostal Christians in Honiara believe that there is a more fundamental, almost ‘natural’ lack of discipline in “Melanesians” as such, which prevents them from taking up “good” habits leading to “development”. Rather than illustrating this point with a problematic series of ideas that would only sound very essentializing, I report what the

248 Pentecostal pastor I mentioned above once told me as he was trying to explain his point of view on the “Melanesian lack of discipline”.

Pastor: One thing I want to tell you about Solomon Islanders: they are so spiritual. Spiritual, meaning that everything is spiritualized. So, if somebody is sick, if somebody is not doing well at school, if somebody is poor, they will take it spiritually, like: ‘oh, it’s the devil, somebody must have cursed us, somebody must have done this to us.’ So, they always feel helpless, like: ‘I am not responsible, it is always the devil, my father, grandfather...’ They always blame somebody. But then, this is why the Bible came to us. If you are mindful about what you eat, if you are mindful about how you live, you will become more, you will become rich. God has given us the power to see things that will become the platform to build up our life. But then, many of us Solomon Islanders think that it is just God, and [that] we are helpless, [that] it’s the devil, and [that] we are helpless, [that] we cannot do anything. But this is where the value system comes in. So, if I discipline my life to do certain things, more things will come on my way. This is really where the value system comes [in]. We take responsibilities, and we become more responsible for what kind of future we are going to get, for what kind of person we want to be, for what kind of family we want to build, for what kind of financial state we want to be in. People in the Solomons do not think in this way. They always think that it is their grandfather who died long time ago, that we are just victims and we cannot help ourselves. But then, you understand the value system, and how you can become responsible to change your life, and be responsible for your destiny. Too many people in the Solomons do not have that kind of mindset. [my italics]

I do not necessarily agree with what the pastor said. But I think that his point of view is rather common among Pentecostal Christians in Honiara, especially among pastors.

It follows that the perception of the individual responsibility of the believer for his or her own health and wealth is a problematic one, in the sense that it is perceived to be a problem with no easy solution. Indeed, backsliding does not simply distance the believer from the

249 objective of being a “good” Pentecostal Christian. In the absence of a set of negative incentives such as those of the SSEC, and without the obligation to undertake a formal process of redemption, falling into “wrong” habits makes it even more likely for the believer to keep backsliding again and again, trapped in a vicious whirlpool of spiritual deprivation understood in terms of physical sickness and financial scarcity. When this happens, Pentecostal Christians have no other choice but to seek the help of their close ones. In most cases, I observed, the designated person is the spouse.

My time-allocation analysis (see Appendix J) shows that, in Gilbert Camp, men and women tend to be free from work in the same time-slots of an average week. This suggests that, apart from the time they spend in the church and the time they dedicate to housework and sleep, they can pass a considerable number of hours together. This is true about

Pentecostal households too. In the absence of negative incentives and an institutional pathway towards redemption, the interaction with the spouse becomes the main, if not the only, source of discipline tending to encourage a Pentecostal Christian to stick with his or her on-going process of conversion.

As I mentioned above, this process is understood in terms of health and wealth.

Therefore, spouses have two main roles in this respect: helping each other to accumulate money, and helping each other to stay in good health. Below, I discuss the two case studies in the light of what the analysis revealed so far, namely that the convert is alone in front of

God, and that Pentecostals in Honiara see themselves as ‘lacking discipline’.

1) What did Stephen mean?

Let us go back to the question formulated at the end of the first case study, i.e., what did

Stephen mean when he said “my wife converted me”? I argue that Stephen was making a

250 specific point about the importance of sharing the process of conversion with his partner.

To put it in other words, he meant “without my wife I would have never been able to go through the process of conversion that I undertook after my marriage”. Rather than depicting conversion as a sudden rupture with the past resulting from an agent-patient relationship, he was making reference to the fact that becoming Pentecostal is very difficult when you have only your own spiritual discipline to help you to remain consistent with your purpose. The possibility of being born-again every now and then, in addition, provides the opportunity to repeatedly cleanse the sins one commits, which means that one is not particularly encouraged to break up with a ‘sinful’ life. Stephen meant that he needed someone who would hold him accountable for the commitment he made to become a true

Christian, but which he struggled to stick to.

Among the aspects that men mention as threats to their personal commitment to a successful conversion, they include cigarettes, alcohol, and gambling. These are all things that women tend to do considerably less than men. In this case, it does not matter whether they are from a Pentecostal church or from a church of another kind. However, it matters more in a Pentecostal household, in which, as mentioned above, no negative incentives against sinful acts nor any clear pathway towards redemption are provided by the church structure. The Pentecostal spouse, therefore, takes up the responsibilities that in households affiliated with other denominations are taken up by church staff and administered through church organization.

However, it is not completely correct to put it in this way. Indeed, according to

Kwara’ae ideals, men and women do not have the same responsibilities in the domestic domain. The point is not simply that men and women are not seen as equal. The point is, rather, that they are seen as different. By different, the Kwara’ae people imply first of all

251 that men and women are perceived as unable to do some things and predisposed to do some others. Women, for example, “cannot build houses because their bodies are not strong enough”. Men, on the other hand, “cannot cultivate sweet potatoes”, or at least not as skilfully as women do. Also, it is common knowledge among the Kwara’ae people that men and women should not behave in the same way. Women, for example, are expected to cook, whereas men should not normally do that. Men, in turn, are expected to manage the money of the household, including the money their wife earns. As far as agriculture is concerned, “[e]veryone works the land, but men concentrate on clearing the forest and women do most of the tending and harvesting” (Burt, 1994b: 23). Different roles and values associated with men and women are so important that Kwara’ae people distinguish even between male and female ghosts. Male ghosts support masculine values such as “the benefits of men’s hard work and the rewards of stable and peaceful living, but they were also held responsible for male aggression and violence” (Ibid: 61). Female ghosts, on the other hand, promote “peace and calm, prosperity and the growth of gardens and pigs”

(Ibid.).

The differentiation between male and female ‘natural’ qualities is by no means a thing of the past, as it is demonstrated by the current commentaries of the so-called Ethnic

Tensions. Men are seen as those who started the conflict, thereby embodying the values of pride, strength, and aggression. Women, on the other hand, are depicted as the resilient, forgiving, and peaceful saviours of the nation. In brief, Kwara’ae people perceive gender roles as resting at once upon the presumption of biological diversity and traditional conceptions of gender difference. The relationship between husband and wife is constructed on the basis of these values, which interestingly intertwine with the Pentecostal lack of negative incentives and redemption pathways.

252 Men, as I mentioned, are considered to be responsible for the management of domestic economy. The church a man belongs to, on the other hand, has a strong influence on his economic choices. A member of the SSEC is much more likely to avoid spending money on cigarettes, alcohol, and gambling because his church severely punishes those who indulge in sinful activities such a smoking, drinking, and betting. That is not the case of a man affiliated to the ACOM, which does not consider these activities as sins. In a

Pentecostal household, in contrast, a man who wants to become a Christian has to avoid sinful and uneconomic behaviour such as smoking, drinking, and gambling. These are exactly the kind of activities that women are expected not to take up, according to Kwara’ae culture. They are perceived to be men’s activities, and a woman who indulges in such activities is considered of low value, a prostitute perhaps, certainly not a “good” wife. A man who smokes, drinks, and gambles, in contrast, is not necessarily considered to be someone who acts wrongfully. Men and women are different, indeed, and so are their standards of behaviour. A heavy smoker, drinker, and gambler, would be treated with relative indulgence if he is a man, whereas a woman would be subjected to all sorts of harsh judgements if she is seen smoking a cigarette, or drinking a beer. As for gambling, I would say it is impossible to see a woman doing it.

However, the two double standards tend to converge under the influence of the

Pentecostal message. Women and men are both expected to refrain from smoking, drinking, and gambling. But, since Kwara’ae women are much less prone to smoking, drinking and gambling because of their traditional gender role, they are also much less likely to be struggling to stick to the Pentecostal prescription of a life dedicated to the accumulation of wealth and the maintenance of good health, than their husbands. The negative incentives that lack in Pentecostal churches are provided by their gender values.

253 It follows that in Pentecostal households, the wife easily becomes a model of discipline, financial rationality, and holiness. Men are seen as constantly risking a backslide, and struggling to refrain from activities that are considered uneconomic and unhealthy.

They perceive the world, and especially the urban context, as places where they are constantly influenced by a plethora of temptations. They feel that life in town is relatively stressful, and encourages them to take up habits such as, again, smoking, drinking and gambling. The domestic domain, in contrast, is perceived as a place where relaxation can be enjoyed without the sinful temptations of the town context.

This perspective involves a radical change in the conceptualization of the role of a wife. Men increasingly see their wives as someone from whom they have to learn something, someone who shall control, assess, and redress their conduct. Wives are increasingly perceived as the household members who are best equipped to help men to stick to their commitment to live according to Pentecostal standards. Therefore, their position in the household changes radically, albeit within a form of Malaitan patriarchy that remains stable.

In Pentecostal households, therefore, women are still subjected to the authority of their husbands, but their husbands consciously subject themselves to the judgement of their wives. The authority of the husband is paramount, and sustained by the framework of traditional Malaitan patriarchy. The judgement of the wife, in contrast, is subordinated to the authority of the husband, which does not make it less substantial, because her judgement is formed by the Pentecostal framework, i.e. the same set of ideas and practices to which the husband subjected himself.

The husband, it is true, holds his wife in subjugation. But their daily life, challenges and partnerships turn such subjugation into its opposite. That is not to say that a wife

254 becomes a master of her husband. That would go beyond the framework of Kwara’ae domestic gender roles. However, the wife is perceived to be a successfully-converted

Christian because her traditional gender role and her membership to the church converge and coexist cogently. Correspondingly, the husband ultimately becomes dependent on his wife, to the extent that he wants her to control, assess, and redress his conduct in order for him to be more likely to stick to the Pentecostal prescriptions of a wealthy and healthy lifestyle. In other words, the husband, acting within the framework of his traditional role, wilfully interposes his wife, in her new role as Pentecostal champion, between himself and his own independence.

Consequently, the husband still makes use of his wife for the purposes of domestic administration that are typical of traditional Malaitan domestic decision making, but he does so in a way so as to concede his wife the authority that she would not be granted within the framework of Malaitan patriarchy. In so doing, he is not simply reproducing a traditional form of power relation. Much to the contrary, he is giving up part of his authoritative role in order to transform his own conduct, thereby conceding more authority to his wife by virtue of her own conduct. This process represents one way in which gender relations are at the basis of conversion not just of husbands, but of Kwara’ae households into Pentecostal households.

2) What did Mark mean?

As mentioned above, one of the interesting, and to a certain extent surprising, aspects of the second case study, is that Mark and Jodie buy commodities from each other. They are not immune from the consciousness that this form of exchange is not appropriate to the relationship between husband and wife, who should give to each other on the basis of

255 generalized reciprocity (Sahlins, 1972), rather than maximising interest. Indeed, when I ask them if they sell to each other, they deny.

Mark: No, we do not sell.

Jodie: It’s just a way to keep the money inside the house.

The point, in other words, it is not that selling to each other is right or wrong. The point is that it is “better”, according to the pastor’s definition.

The same kind of explanation was offered when I asked about the debt relation.

Mark: It is not really a debt. It’s just because we have to eat every day, and I don’t want to give the money to the shopkeeper.

Is it a debt? Is it a sale? “Not really”, they say. Although they seem to find the matter embarrassing somehow, on the other hand they are proud of their strategy. They say it is a way to become “responsible”. By that, they mean that they are becoming aware of the threat posed by the constant drain of money that results from being involved in a market economy. By organizing this strategy, they seek to avoid such a drain and be set free from the tyranny of need.

However, organizing this strategy is not something that can be done in cold rationality. There is that embarrassing aspect that is morality in its elemental form. That is why it is necessary for the members of these households to find an agreement. They have to switch to a new framework where message and meaning are understood. Mark does not want his wife to consider the fact that he is selling at market rates to her as a distancing practice. Rather, he wants her to take this as an economic strategy intended to support them as a household. In selling at market rates to her, he is not saying “you are just like

256 anyone else”, but rather “you are helping me to become responsible for our resources”.

The strategy is this realignment of message and meaning, in which Mark and Jodie agree that a certain economic behaviour does not result in a moral scandal, but it is “just a way to keep the money inside the house”. Husband and wife, in other words, rearrange their notion of the appropriate way to perform domestic transactions in order to make them evaluative of their relationship, rather than derogatory or distancing. Selling at market rates to one’s wife, in this way, does not sound rude any more. Rather, it becomes a way to value her as a partner and companion in the difficult challenge of surviving as Christians in a context of economic scarcity.

I was tempted to interpret this strategy as a shift towards the individual responsibility that Harvey (2005: 65) sees as an elementary feature of neoliberal states.

Indeed, if freely negotiated contractual obligations between juridical individuals in the marketplace is the opposite of Kwara'ae traditional, embedded and tacit, mutual obligations between relatives, then the strategy described above can perhaps be interpreted as a behaviour between these two extremes? Another hybrid? Maybe. The temptation to interpret the cultural influence of Pentecostalism as the religious equivalent of neoliberal market ideology is a strong one.10 However, what I intend to highlight with this ethnographic example is rather that husband and wife in some Pentecostal households in

Honiara undertake income-generating activities that are understood as part of a process of becoming Christians and rearrange their relationship according to the relative values of kinship and money in order to resolve moral dilemmas connected to the accumulation of wealth.

10 See, for example, Lehman, 1994: 92.

257 Kwara’ae people are deeply concerned with both kinship obligations and market mentality, and their involvement in both requires them to find viable, practical solutions to some fundamental contradictions. On the one hand, they are projected towards their dreams of capital accumulation, while they are conscious of their moral responsibilities on the other. When they learn about the Gospel of Prosperity, instead, they see that it resolves such contradictions by providing them with two fundamental categories, that of the converted and unconverted person. The unconverted person is someone who lives in poverty and misery and has no power to escape such a condition, whereas the converted person lives in health and wealth as a consequence of respecting a set of Pentecostal prescriptions. It follows that Pentecostalism replaces the opposition between a generous

(fangale’a) and poor settler and a selfish (fangata’a) and well-off one with the synthetic category of a “good” Kwara’ae person who is at the same time in a “good” financial situation.

Most Pentecostal Kwara’ae, however, rather than being either converted or unconverted, dwell in the gap between these two categories. They undertook the process of conversion but have not attained that successful condition yet. By standing in the gap, the person perceives his/her own self as divided in two halves: the ideal self and the actual self. The ideal person, to bring this notion down to the grounds of Gilbert Camp, is someone who can save money, invest it, and buy more products. The actual person, instead, is someone who needs cash right now to pay school fees, who needs food right now to feed his/her children; in sum, someone who is in need. This is what Mark was trying to say when he replied to my puzzled question, “what does it mean that you are in debt to yourself?” He was making use of the categories of ‘indebted person’ to differentiate between his unconverted and converted self. Standing in the gap between his need to buy

258 food and the ideal self that is freed from need, he was describing himself as someone who undertook the process of conversion but has not completed such a metamorphosis yet.

Becoming a Pentecostal Christian, thus, is a struggle between an unconverted, unaccountable self that buys on credit from himself and seeks to repay his debt in order to become accountable and converted.

Through their encounter with the Gospel of Prosperity, Kwara’ae people understand their condition of need within the framework created by the category of

‘unconverted person’, and imagine their liberation from need as one thing with a successful and complete conversion. It follows that dwelling in the gap between sin and conversion mirrors the condition of Pentecostal Kwara’ae who understand themselves as subjected to a constant drain of resources from outside their household. That is why, as we have seen, they decide not to spend the money at the corner shop, and rather invest their resources inside their household.11 They think that living at the threshold of Honiara consists of being constantly in debt with the market, because they need food to live and that food is not free, but rather expensive. In order to emancipate themselves from that condition, they need to work, earn, save, and invest. But they think it is very difficult to do that, as the Pentecostal pastor said. That is how they begin to foreshadow the features of an ideal person who sets him/herself free from the tyranny of need. And Pentecostalism provides them with the terms in which they can formulate ‘strategically feasible’ and ‘morally acceptable’ means to attain such conversion. As Annelin Eriksen argued concerning Ni-Vanuatu in Port Vila, one of the reasons behind the growth of new Pentecostal churches is that people are looking for new ways of coping with new challenges of value (2009: 79). As we have seen,

11 Cf. Peterson and Taylor, in chapter 3.

259 finding viable compromises between incompatible values as much as converting successfully depends largely on people’s negotiations of gender differences and domestic roles.

3. Researching Christianity from the perspective of domestic gender roles

Conducting ethnographic research on Christianity from the domestic point of view is illuminating. It provides continuous insights into the process of making and re-making the meaning of life in daily negotiations among the members of the household. In this section,

I reflect upon my research choices and compare my findings with methodological trends in the anthropology of Melanesian Christianity.

1) The gender of conversion

There is a sense in which affirming that gender does not count towards the understanding of Pentecostalism amounts to negating the existence of gender differences and that such differences vary cross-culturally. In other words, asserting the analytical irrelevance of gender has the potential to negate the existence of gender differences tout court. In contrast, recent hermeneutical shifts towards the appreciation of gendered production, transformation, and reproduction of cultural discourses, reveal the current anthropological interest for the cross-cultural study of gender. As for the new application of these perspectives to the study of Pentecostalism, it has been already noted that, at least since the

1970s, the amount of publications on gender and Pentecostalism has been steadily growing

(cf. Brusco, 2010: 74-75). The point, now, is to look more closely into Pentecostalism from a gender perspective.

260 In Melanesia, Annelin Eriksen pioneered the study of Pentecostalism from a gender perspective. She observed that, in order to study the then novel burgeoning of Pentecostal churches in Vanuatu, an understanding of Pentecostal values as gendered values would

“illuminate the difference between the new churches and more established churches”

(Eriksen, 2012: 103). Building up on the basis of that observation, she was able to illustrate how the new churches create a space in which Pentecostal Christians work out a novel form of masculinity and femininity. To do so, it was necessary to look at Pentecostal notions of manhood and womanhood as gendered values, i.e. as idealized forms of morally- desirable conditions that men and women respectively seek to realize. One of the merits of such an approach is the understanding that Pentecostal values are gender specific, rather than not.

In this chapter, I pursued a similar analytical pathway, in that I also looked at gendered values and the key role they play in the creation of new formulations of masculinity. I concentrated my analysis on Pentecostal households, in the conviction that participant observation during church services and other church-related activities only offers a very limited understanding of the point of view of Pentecostal Christians. In contrast, I adopt the perspective of the household. Thanks to a thorough observation of care and material transactions among kin and non-kin who look at each other as related, it is possible to investigate the presence of an idealized form of the male and female (see

Appendix C). Indeed, it is in these acts that we can observe how people engage in a plethora of discourses, explicit and not, about their reciprocal valuation. These forms of mutual recognition take place within gender-specific patterns of behaviour, and so do processes of conversion to Pentecostalism.

261 By looking at gender values, I explored the meaning of such processes in relation to marital roles and how these are framed within the context of Melanesian understandings of

Pentecostal Christianity and urban versions of Malaitan patriarchy. I argued that men consider their wives to be helpful in the process of their own conversion to Pentecostalism because they see them as being better equipped, as a consequence of their traditional gender role, to stick to the set of prescriptions that, according to the Gospel of Prosperity, grants access to a life of health and wealth.

Since similar claims can be advanced, and have been advanced, in other periods and places, this argument can be relevant for comparative purposes. The literature on

Pentecostalism has recently become concerned with constructions of manhood within born-again ideas and practices of marriage, family life, and masculinity. Pentecostal discourses that this branch of literature is interested in exploring include themes such as spiritual warfare, demonology, and the influence of Satan on the behaviour of men.

Soothill (2007), for example, highlighted how Ghanaian Pentecostals tend to consider the negative influence of evil forces to be responsible for ‘disruptive’ male behaviours. They believe satanic strategies to demolish family life and destroy marriages lie behind such behaviours. These also include men’s tendency to take up habits seen as uneconomic and unhealthy. Interestingly, Soothill identified within these discourses the tendency to depict women as “responsible for the “salvation” of men through the exercise of “natural” feminine religiosity” (Ibid.: 209). In another passage, she explains that women “are regarded as the primary saviours of men and feminine religiosity is perceived to be crucial to behavioural changes in their male partners. This stems from charismatic beliefs about both the “natural” feminine qualities of women […] and the nature of feminine spirituality”

(214). Among the qualities that Ghanaian Pentecostals attribute to women, there is purity,

262 modesty, respectful character, gentleness, fervent prayer, and humility. Thus, as one

Ghanaian pastor said, “they can break and change their unsaved husbands, and cause them to become saved by Christ” (Ibid.: 214).

In this brief set of quotations it is easy to identify significant commonalities with the

Solomon Islands case: firstly, the idea that conversion is a long-term process rather than a sudden, one-off break with the past; secondly, women are believed to play a crucial role in the accomplishment of such a process; thirdly, this role is possible thanks to a set of innate, specific, and exclusive feminine qualities. Within the framework created by these elements it is possible to contextualize Stephen’s statement, as well as the answers given by all those

Pentecostal men who converted post-connubially but for reasons not directly related to their marriage. A gender perspective was therefore useful to explore the meaning of that statement and frame it within the context in which it was produced.

This brings us to a few methodological points. One of the reasons why I decided to use a gender perspective to undertake my analysis of the influence of Pentecostalism is that my fieldwork in Pentecostal churches was mainly among men. Since their point of view is heavily influenced by their relationship with their female counterpart, I needed to explore their relationships as gendered subjects in order to understand their reciprocal influence as Pentecostal converts. A gender perspective, however, is not in itself sufficient to establish analytical connections between gender roles, Pentecostal prescriptions, and patterns of behaviour. To understand the meaning and process of conversion in

Pentecostal households, it was necessary to collect material concerning the ways in which the relationship between husband and wife is played out in daily domestic negotiations, the ways in which men struggle to behave in accordance to Pentecostal prescriptions when they are not in the church, the reasons why women, supposedly, struggle much less, and how

263 these two sets of behaviour interplay in people’s concrete, daily lives. In other words, it is not sufficient to just take Pentecostal gendered discourses at face value and conduct the analysis on the basis of such superficial material. True, pastors often articulate such discourses, and do so in a very straightforward and unambiguous way. But that should not lead to equally straightforward conclusions. Rather, information contained in religious speeches, pamphlets, and even biblical sources should be considered, if anything, just like hypotheses to be put to the test with the methods of ethnographic research.

On the other hand, quantitative methods such as those I applied at the beginning of my analysis can only offer, to use an artistic metaphor, enough paint for a very sketchy picture, drawn with a broad brush on a rather thin, bi-dimensional board. To gain depth in the anthropological study of Pentecostal Christians, it is necessary to concentrate on the concrete ways in which, to remain within the topic of this paper, domestic values, gender roles, Pentecostal prescriptions and the material conditions of social life intertwine in complex and often unexpected ways.

That is what I have tried to do by establishing an analytical connection between the domestic commercialization of food stocks and the reorganization of gender values and inscribe such connection within the overall framework of a conversion project intended to realize a novel form of Pentecostal masculinity. Part of this analytical connection was established in relation to what Eriksen has termed the “sociological dimension of

Pentecostal Christianity and its effect on men and women” (Eriksen, 2012: 110). In particular, I undertook the sociological reasoning in the sections of this chapter concerned with church membership and discipline. In the sections that followed, instead, I explored the “symbolic dimension of gender” (Ibid.) and the ways in which gender influences domestic roles in the context of Pentecostal conversion.

264 In inscribing my analysis in the framework of these two theoretical and methodological approaches, my choice to apply Eriksen’s terminology was not taken randomly. I deliberately decided not to make use of other approaches. For example,

Molyneux’s distinction between the practical and strategic forms of women’s movements

(Molyneux, 1986: 284) would not fit. The reason is that, in this chapter, I attempted to understand the point of view of two men through the analysis of the interrelations between male and female roles in Pentecostal households, as well as the values of masculinity and femininity. The general absence of female voices in my account, indeed, prevents the usage of conceptual categories that refer to women’s movements. That, among other things, can be looked at as a major limitation of my analysis, one that I have already mentioned in the introduction to this thesis. My argument would have certainly gained strength and depth, had I provided the point of view of Pentecostal wives. However, my material can still be relevant for a discussion of the strengths and limitations of theoretical and methodological approaches to gender and Pentecostalism.

In order to engage with the ‘sociological dimension’ of the Pentecostal impact, I highlighted that gender roles, religious laws, church structures and domestic arrangements interlock together in cogent ways. By that, I mean that the behaviour of Pentecostal

Christians in Honiara is limited by a set of constraints that results from the interlocking of multiple contextual norms. The focus on norms of domestic behaviour and the extent to which these are influenced and complemented by the norms of the churches brings some scholars to interpret Pentecostalism as “the principal organization of the poor” (Chesnut,

1997: 104); or as a counterhegemonic message for the liberation of women from

265 patriarchy.12 However, one limitation of these kinds of approach is that they tend to provide an illustration of gender dynamics ‘from outside’. In other words, they establish convincing analytical interconnections between norms with a social relevance, but sometimes lack a detailed description of how these norms are concretely transformed into specific forms of social action, if at all. For a description of this kind of translation, an ethnographic focus on values and domestic acts of valuation can be revealing.

Such a focus can provide access to the “symbolic dimension” of gender and

Pentecostalism; it allows an exploration of new ideas of masculinity, recent interpretations of ‘natural’ feminine religiosity, and what it means to be a man in the eyes of those who undertook a process of Pentecostal conversion; and to see how Stephen’s statement and

Mark’s statement were both charged with symbols of femininity and masculinity. In contrast, trying to understand their meaning by focusing solely on the features that can be identified with a sociological approach, such as the alleged liberating potential of female conversion, conceals the complex reciprocal influence of gender roles, religious prescriptions, and moral economy.

In the end, my conclusion does not rest upon one single methodological approach.

Rather, I developed my analysis on the basis of multiple methodologies, each tailored to a specific set of research questions. Demographic surveys and questionnaires provided the basic material for an elementary description of my field site with particular attention to quantifiable aspects such as the average income of an ordinary household,13 the statistical

12 See, for example, Burdick, 2013. 13 See chapter 3.

266 weight of church affiliations,14 and the frequency of denominational changes. Semi- structured interviews and time-allocation analyses suggested the main research question, the initial hypothesis, as well as one possible pathway of interpretation. Written material published by the ACOM, the SSEC, the KHMI, and other Pentecostal churches offered a set of comparable norms that allowed an appreciation of similarities and differences in terms of membership and discipline.15 Participant observation, finally, allowed me to access the intimate context of the household to witness the economic practices and value negotiations between husband and wife that helped to answer the questions of this chapter.

In sum, my argument is an interlocking of socio-cultural phenomena based upon an analogous interlocking of research methods.

2) Concrete Christians and Abstract Anthropologies

This point is relevant for a broader theoretical debate about the study of Christianity in

Melanesia. Generally, anthropological studies of Christian conversion tend to position along a continuum between an emphasis on continuity at one extreme, and discontinuity at the other. As a consequence, these studies tend to interpret people’s conversion as either a gradual transition and alteration, or a radical change and rupture (Robbins, 2007). One of the benefits of these approaches is that they establish a framework that highlights structural conjunctures, either in the form of clash and dilemma, or in the form of accommodation and syncretism. One of the limitations, however, is that an emphasis on either continuity

14 See chapter 2. 15 Hallum has pointed out that comparisons of this kind can shed light on the “pragmatic reasons women in Latin America are turning to Pentecostalism” (Hallum, 2003: 170). Scholars who use these kinds of comparison include Burdick (1996, 2013), Ireland (1999), Mariz (1994), and Smith (1998), influenced by rational theory applied to religious studies (Stark and Bainbridge, 1979).

267 or discontinuity might give way to a substantial indifference towards concrete, geographically and historically specific phenomena that do not lend themselves to categorizations of the either-or kind.

It is not a matter of positioning halfway between these theoretical/methodological stands. Rather, it is a matter of being ethnographically prepared to capture socio-cultural phenomena that might, at different times, belong to both the category of rupture and transition, and that might interact with each other in complex ways. To take the example of the case analysed in this chapter, the conversion process, albeit being phrased as a radical break with the past, takes place as a transition, in which the traditional character of gender roles provides a set of symbolic notions of behaviour that, in accommodating the tension towards a desired transformatory outcome, shape the selective and discontinual impact of the Pentecostal message, and the ways in which gender itself is shaped. In other words, elements of continuity and discontinuity are part of the same process, but an emphasis on the dis/continuity rather than the elements can hinder the exploration of the process itself.

I claim that it is precisely this kind of emphasis on abstract categories that led Joel

Robbins to depict the Urapmin of PNG as trapped in a moral dilemma between two cultures that contradict one another (Robbins, 2004: xxxvi). I do not think it is possible that “every time they honor the indigenous system they fail its Christian counterpart”, because my research convinced me of the creative way in which people can manipulate the logics of, say, autonomy and relatedness, gifts and commodities (chapter 3), kastom and law

(chapter 5), and Kwara’ae gender roles when they are confronted with the problem of finding a compromise. It follows that it is possible to support the claim that the concepts of Melanesian relatedness and Christian individualism contradict each other (admitting that such ideas have a concrete and self-contained counterpart) only as long as one fails to

268 identify the hybrid outcomes of people’s efforts to resolve unacceptable moral dilemmas.

The problem is that such attempts are hidden in the intimacy of the household, and people often prefer to hide their struggle. However, that is precisely why they are so important.

Rather than concrete instances, Robbins definitely opted for an abstract formulation of Christianity when he wrote that it is “not a thing of shreds and patches that can be used in piecemeal fashion” (1998: 588; 2004: 3). He claimed that the “leading features” (1998: 587-603) and the “cultural logic” (2004) underpinning Christianity as an internally-coherent system of values somehow inculcate such features on converts and transform them into living versions of such impermeable coherence. It is from such complete embodiment of supposed Christian individualism and internal coherence, and from its clash with relationality understood as an equally self-contained system of values, that the moral dilemma of the Urapmin is interpreted as insoluble. And yet, it suffices to look in an area as close as New Ireland to document the impossibility of individualised conceptions of the person, be it Christian or not. For instance, the Lelet find “no mutual exclusivity between relationalism and individualism” (Eves, 2007: 501).

My impression is that Robbins’ conceptualisation of Christianity as “unrelentingly individualist” (Robbins, 2004: 293) derives essentially from a too-literal reading of what he sees as the non-partibility of faith, as if faith could only be a matter of personal choice. In contrast, in this chapter I analysed two case studies that demonstrate that the inner struggle between the actual self and the potential self cannot be successfully won in solitude, or at least that is what both Stephen and Mark seemed to suggest. Therefore, I argue that, had

Robbins placed less emphasis on ‘systems of values’ and a closer attention to negotiations and creative manipulation of cultural logics, he would have identified numerous instances in which the Urapmin attempted to overcome their daily moral dilemmas, rather than get

269 ‘stuck between two cultural logics’. In fact, his ethnography lacks case studies of this kind, as much as details “regarding the logical or ritual content of the Baptist and revivalist

Christianities Urapmin encountered” as Michael Scott noted (M. Scott, 2005: 105).

The problem, therefore, is methodological. What kinds of data do anthropologists of Melanesian Christianity use to support their claims? Robbins is not the only anthropologist who presents ‘Christian individualism’ as opposed to the value of relatedness without providing concrete instances in which people (read ‘valuers’) negotiate such values. Brison, for example wrote about Pentecostalism’s “distinct, invariant modern values” (Brison, 2007: 23) and its opposition to Fijians values of relatedness. To support the claims that such are the features of Pentecostalism in Fiji, she compared the speeches given by the pastor of a successful Fijian Pentecostal church with the vast literature on

Pentecostal Christianity. Unsurprisingly, she found strong similarities among the programmes, agendas, and speeches of pastors around the globe. But what about the diverse ways in which people selectively appropriate such a message and creatively re- elaborate it?

One way to answer this question is to quote Bronwen Douglas:

Melanesian Christianity, especially of the fundamentalist kind, often requires mental and moral gymnastics of nonindigenous scholars who are unhappy with the notion of conversion as solely a Western innovation and imposition and want to conceptualise it as indigenous action and experience but are blinkered by their own histories, ethnocentrism, and partialities. (Douglas, 2001: 623)

Although such a judgement might sound excessively severe, I find that the emphasis on abstract categories and the absence of concrete instances of value negotiations results in a failure to account for what Melanesians actually do with Christianity. In

270 contrast, I emphasise the importance of pinpointing the exact moments when value negotiations take place in concrete social situations. Such a process is multifaceted, and as much as its different facets interlock together in complex and unpredictable ways, so should theoretical and methodological approaches.

The combination of these approaches, however, also requires careful consideration of an appropriate perspective. In this chapter, I looked at Christianity from the point of view of the household, and chose a gender perspective because the task was to understand the meaning of statements formulated by two men about the value of their wives’ contribution to their conversion. It was just one of many possible approaches, however. If anything, within the framework created by these analytical connections, I interpreted two indigenous statements that, if taken at face value, would have led to different, perhaps misleading conclusions; certainly to a much more superficial understanding of the point of view of Mark and Stephen.

It seems obvious by now that economic activities in a Pentecostal household are not just ways of making money. Rather, very much like abstinence from cigarettes, alcohol and betel nut, they are part of the process of conversion that is meant to bridge the gap between the real and the possible. Rather than a sudden break with their ‘sinful’ lives,

Stephen and Mark needed to insert the Pentecostal message within the machinery of the domestic moral economy in order to negotiate a culturally viable way to become accountable to themselves and their wives. The fact that this process was necessary, and the ways in which they realized it, have important bearings on the overall theme of my thesis. Indeed, it shows that Kwara’ae people make use of the Pentecostal message in a creative way in order to cope with the everyday value tensions that result from living on the

271 outskirts of Honiara. Such efforts of creativity, once again, constitute a clear illustration of how much they value their life in town.

272 CHAPTER 7

CONCLUSION: HOM AND HONIARA

Plate 7.1 Children jumping between two shores

“All culture tends to survive. That is, every custom tends to continue being practiced though it will take new forms and develop new social values to accord with the new system of which it is part”. Gluckman, 1940: 63

“As the centre and circumference of a sphere coincide in the infinite, so also the essence of a culture and the influences on it cannot be substantially distinguished in the perpetual movement of history”. Field diary, 1 November 2012

273 1. Coping with daily tensions

“Throughout Melanesia people refer to urban centres as bad places (…). They are not places people wish to call home” (Sillitoe, 2000: 179; cf. Levine & Levine, 1979: 1). Reasons usually recalled to justify such negative opinions include “the ill effects of the cinema, drinking, prostitution, bad health and vagrancy” (Bellam, 1970: 86) and the general anxiety and uncertainty of life in town (cf. Cummings, 2013: 381). While acknowledging these popular feelings, my thesis shows that the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp value life in town and are increasingly committed to it. Perhaps the starkest illustration of this commitment is in the efforts they put in dealing with the everyday tensions they face over the meaning and use of their values in the urban context.

These tensions emerge from a variety of concrete situations: the conflict between household autonomy and relatedness in the urban context; the anxieties related to maintaining kinship bonds with relatives in Malaita notwithstanding the distance and high costs of transports; the confusion surrounding the issue of land and the ensuing fears caused by the general lack of security, absence of leadership, and legitimisation of the settlers’ point of view about land; the attempt to solve disputes within the community and live under the aegis of kastom even if the state fails to provide the means and spaces for the enforcement of customary law that it nevertheless recognises; and the major dilemmas in the domestic moral economy of the Gilbert Camp household that can be mediated with a selective reception of the Pentecostal Gospel of Prosperity and a creative use of saving strategies. The observation and analysis of these situations show that, for the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp, the task of coping with these tensions is never accomplished, and every day is another day of anxieties, negotiations, attempts, and modifications. Such challenges demonstrate their commitment to life in town, rather than their contempt.

274 The process Kwara’ae people are currently undergoing presents similarities with what

Abner Cohen has termed ‘retribalisation’ in his 1969 book Custom and Politics in Urban Africa.

Retribalisation takes place when “an ethnic group adjusts to the new realities by reorganising its own traditional customs, or by developing new customs under traditional symbols, often using traditional norms and ideologies” (Cohen, 1969: 1). Similarly,

Kwara’ae people adjust to the condition of living in town: they organise a circulation of gifts that they see as an extension of their traditional exchange practices; they construct hybrid objects that are at the same time gifts and commodities to solve the dilemma between the need to buy useful objects and the duty of honouring their neighbours; they create hybrid courts; they coordinate the domestic sale of retailed products and adapt it to a new conceptualisation of such practice to make it compatible with customary ways of valuing relatives; and many other forms of adaptation, reorganisation, and creation of value.

Theorising retribalisation implies a sceptical attitude towards seeing urbanisation as a historical process deterministically meant to promote ‘modernisation’. Looking at it from this perspective, Cohen’s terminology might apply to my understanding of Kwara’ae people’s commitment with town life. It might also apply to other people in the area. A growing corpus of studies highlights how creatively and unpredictably Melanesians are interacting with influences of the three Cs, Christianity, Colonialism, and Capitalism.1 In line with this literature, my understanding of modernisation does not imply the transformation of a ‘culture’ based on status to a ‘society’ based on contract, or an abstract shift from Gemeinschaft to Gesellschaft. Kwara’ae people are not replacing traditional community arrangements with new forms of association. Rather, they are modifying the

1 See, for example, Gewertz and Errington, 1991; Knauft, 2002; LiPuma, 2001; Robbins, 2004.

275 former as they are creating the latter. The recreation, modification, and adaptation of kastom, values, symbols, and rituals to the urban context reveals a dynamic socio-cultural change whose outcomes are not predictable.

However, there are also considerable differences that make the term “retribalisation” unfit to represent the socio-cultural dynamics of Gilbert Camp. Indeed, the term suggests a reference to the actions of a tribe. In contrast, the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp are not a tribe, neither according to the Morganian sense of the term, nor to the popular meaning of traeb in Solomon Islands. As mentioned in the introduction, Kwara’ae people make use of various definitions of traeb, which tend to change depending on the context where such term is used, as well as the context they are referring to. When they refer to the

Gilbert Camp community as a traeb, they do so with in mind a community whose spatial limits are determined by the circulation of its members. Firstly, thus, they emphasise bilocality (Goddard, 2010: 117), or multilocality, rather than residence (thereby promoting a progressive conflation of wantok and traeb, of ethno-linguistic category and ethno-linguistic group). Secondly, they convey a sense of long-distance connection, as in the words of

Kwa’ioloa: “The longer I stay in Honiara, the more this relationship does indeed connect me with home” (Kwa’ioloa & Burt, 2013: 146). Thirdly, such connection with hom persists into second and subsequent generations (Sillitoe, 2000: 169). Furthermore, Kwara’ae people in Gilbert Camp do not constitute a group in the Gluckman sense of the term. Rather than a corporate political entity, they belong to an ethno-linguistic category. All in all, their efforts to live according to their values in town take place as a process of urban adaptation of a people, rather than a tribe; people belonging to one ethno-linguistic category and circulating over a territory that embraces multiple localities over an extended period of time.

276 The term that I chose to capture the blurry limits of this process is commitment, because it emphasises the efforts of the Kwara’ae people and captures what they mean when they say that life in town is “hard”. What they mean is not simply that town life is tough, harsh, or exhausting. They mean they are committed to make it better.

Kwara’ae people’s commitment in Gilbert Camp, in addition, differs from other processes of urban adaptation that have fallen under the term “retribalisation”. The retribalisation of the Hausa who live in Ibadan, for example, does not arise “from the fear of suffering the ultimate loss of Hausa cultural identity. This is because Hausa identity and

Hausa ethnic exclusiveness in Ibadan are the expression not so much of particularly strong

‘tribalistic’ sentiments as of vested economic interests” (Cohen, 1969: 14). The efforts of

Kwara’ae people, in contrast, are directed towards constructing Gilbert Camp as their fanoa, sort of ideal community where their values are shared and respected. Rather than being afraid of losing their cultural identity, they simply cannot envisage the possibility of living outside the aegis of kastom.

That is not to say that symbolic and material connections to hom are maintained for the mere sake of emotional security. They do have their own interests in preserving these connections, which range from subsistence, to bride-price contributions, to land rights. So, the values that Kwara’ae people seek to realise cannot be properly described within the framework of a dichotomic opposition between symbolic and material benefits. A life deprived of food, money, “good” social relations, shelter, Christianity and respect for their abu is simply undesirable for them, which is the reason why they are committed to live a

“good” life in Gilbert Camp.

277 A recognition of their commitment questions popular caricatures of peri-urban settlers as criminals,2 unscrupulous squatters,3 and violent raiders4 who have to be tamed with Christianity and can only advance with the help of externally-imposed development schemes. In contrast, I presented Gilbert Camp as a settlement of hardworking and inventive creators of moral-economic strategies, of unrecognised promoters of grassroots land policies, of successful mediators between kastom lo and state law, and Christians who do not just choose the kind of Christianity they want to convert to, but even select which particular aspect of it they want to appropriate for their own purposes.

Such a portrait balances a tendency “to scapegoat and even demonise the residents of urban settlements” (Barber, 2003: 288; cf. Goddard, 2001) in Melanesia. In addition, it is coherent with the line of reasoning that sees postcolonial urban-rural migration as an extension of pre-contact forms of circulation (Chapman and Prothero, 1985: 11-12), rather than a consequence of the rapid and uncontrolled political and economic changes (J.

Turner, 1972; Mangin, 1967). Blurring the opposition between pre-contact and post-contact modes of movement suggests that dichotomising oppositions such as that between hom and

Honiara or permanent vs. circular migration can provide, at best, one type of analytical framework. That is because mutuality of being, moral values, economic interdependence, and other aspects explored in this thesis cut across such abstract distinctions, as much as concrete attempts to reproduce kastom lo, traditional land dealings, and gender roles realise the reciprocal contamination of these categories. It is within the fuzzy context of this

2 Solomon Star, “Anti-social Behaviour Becomes Police’s Concern”, page 2, issue no. 4547, Honiara, 13th May 2011. 3 Cf. Fraenkel, 2004. 4 Cf. Sillitoe, 2000: 178

278 dialectical contamination that the flexible, temporary and often ambiguous statements about hom and Honiara, and the life trajectories of settlers associated to both, should be analysed.

The context, therefore, is not necessarily that of mobility influenced by the impact of external economic and moral ideas and practices. It could well be that modern changes reinforced traditional economy and morality as a consequence of the appropriation of new means to meet traditional ends. This is not just emphasising the classic continuity over change paradigm. Rather, it is a way of theorising the changing lives of peri-urban settlers as a process that involves historically specific amplifications, accommodations, maintenance, and modifications of cultural practices (Prothero, 1985). As we have seen, people in Gilbert

Camp make efforts to amplify their transactional potential in order to cope with relatively new incompatibilities between multiple economic liabilities and moral imperatives; they struggle against competing valuations of land to preserve their security and peace (and the peace of ancestors too); they seek to modify the procedures of restitution when the lack of practical arrangements hinders the possibility of living under the protection of kastom lo; and they accommodate Christianity within traditional gender roles in a way that allows for the negotiation of moral and economic values that become foundational to contemporary households. These efforts are expression of a general commitment to town life that reveals much more about individual trajectories than do contextual statements about what is good/bad about hom and Honiara.

2. Contempt and commitment to life in town

Commitment was a key word in an earlier study by Bellam (1970). He argued that “[d]espite the increase in the number of more stabilised skilled workers and in the supply of family

279 houses during the [previous] decade, it appears as if indigenous identification with and commitment to, the capital remains marginal. Honiara still has a long way to go before it exhibits ‘the sense of permanence, of vigorous and creative life and organised unity’ which

Belshaw identifies with Suva” (Ibid: 93). Today this seems to have changed to the extent that the village-born and village-oriented urban population is not the overwhelming majority any more. Nowadays, people in Honiara are much more concerned with realising contemporary ideas about kastom in their urban villages. My thesis captures this change as it counterbalances a tendency in much of the extant literature on urban migrants in Melanesia

(e.g. Goddard, 2010) to emphasise modern influence rather than meaningful selection, constant demands for goods from rural relatives rather than affective and material benefits, and the struggle to meet expectations from rural families rather than to realise urban life trajectories without severing valued kinship connections with these families.

During my fieldwork, I was mostly interested in the flows in this direction. I looked at the redistribution of sweet potatoes from Malaita among the relatives and neighbours living in Gilbert Camp, the struggle for the recognition of customary land dealings, the adaptation of customary law, the manipulation of gender roles, and so forth. While the preoccupation with family expectations remains a major concern for the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp, my thesis has shown that today they are also very much concerned with creating their own conditions of “good” life in town.

Anthropological studies of urban Melanesia have long been in the business of investigating the link between urban population and rural origins (Goddard, 2010: 14). In fact, anthropologists are not alone in taking such connection for granted, for their informants do that in the first place (Van Heekeren, 2010: 47). So, while such connection is not questioned, it remains to be seen what it involves. If one takes a home-oriented

280 perspective, perhaps the most evident attempts to create familiar conditions of life in town seem to be the creation of clusters of wantoks within contexts characterised by ethno- linguistic diversity (Sillitoe, 2000: 169), a phenomenon that has been observed in other countries too (Cohen, 1969; Mayer, 1971). Moving beyond home-oriented approaches

(Ryan, 1970; Zimmerman, 1973), anthropologists soon began to appreciate how Melanesian urban settlers create “a new urban culture” (Levine & Levine, 1979: 7) and see town life as a phenomenon in its own right (cf. M. Strathern, 1975).

This has not been an easy process. The widespread assumption that “real anthropology” could only be conducted in rural areas validated the impression that towns did not have culture worth studying (cf. Carrier, 1992: 6; Jourdan et al., 1996). More, it discouraged ethnographers from the production of theoretical and methodological insights concerning how to study Melanesian cultures in urban contexts. The immediate consequence was the production of ethnographic accounts that largely depicted Melanesia as divided into culturally uninteresting urban contexts and areas where ‘more anthropological’ themes, such as exchange ritual, bride price, and ancestral presences, could be investigated. This resulted in the reproduction of old-fashioned schemes of interpretation that largely assume ‘tradition’ to be an ideal set of values people make reference to, rather than a contemporary conceptual tool that changes as people make a creative use of it.

The fact that I ended up considering the meaning and usage of kastom in a town- oriented perspective does not suggest that this thesis is only about town-oriented people.

During my fieldwork, I tried for long time to differentiate between permanent residents, long-term temporary settlers, and occasional visitors, and then associate their views of hom and Honiara to their life trajectories. But it was not possible. Many among those who see

281 Gilbert Camp as hom, still look to Malaita as their hom as well - a place they say they want to go back to sooner or later. In turn, among those who are not thinking of going back, many are convinced that Honiara is not a good place to stay. As I struggled to find a regular association between, say, permanent residence and positive valuation of Honiara or, in contrast, a plan to leave and a clear-cut contempt of urban life, I concluded that adaptation was not exclusive to permanent residents. Rather, those who were living largely as rural folks in Gilbert Camp while waiting to go back hom were contributing to the overall process of adaptation too, often with views of town life much more positive than those very folks who had decided to build a house or find a permanent job. Perhaps they were still unaware of the huge efforts required to live in Honiara? Maybe they were so enthusiastic about the novelty and prospects of town life that they could not see its flaws? It might well be.

However, the socio-spatial extension (cf. Lind, 2010) of the home community was pursued with mutual contributions of everyone, regardless of their patterns of residence and life projects.

And yet, Gilbert Camp is definitely not hom for those who decide to return to their rural villages. It follows that the question whether Gilbert Camp replaces hom or not remains open. In the eyes of permanent residents it is undeniable that desired ends could not be fulfilled in the rural context. But what would the value of these ends be without one’s reference to one’s own origins? I argue that Kwara’ae people who consider Gilbert

Camp as their new hom can only do so as long as they keep considering their village of origin as their original hom.5

5 Several anthropologists of Melanesia documented how increases in the scale and intensity of people’s movements did not annihilate affiliation with place of origin (see, Bonnemaison, 1985: 78;

282 There seems to be a logical contradiction here: if their social relationships allow for a socio-spatial extension of hom, what would be the benefit of differentiating between hom and Honiara? The ways in which Kwara’ae people list differences between hom and Honiara

(see Table 2.4) seems to suggest that for them Malaita is a good place to live whereas

Honiara is not. But opposition between a ‘good’ or ‘bad’ place does not necessarily serve the purpose of orienting one’s trajectory towards what is ‘good’, and contesting or questioning the one who chooses the ‘bad’. In contrast, it serves a more meaningful purpose: it gives people the possibly to make a statement about the measure of their efforts to live a “good” life in a “bad” place.

The opposition, thus, is dichotomic only in theory. In practice, they construct such a set of oppositions because this provides them with premises to articulate their life projects as bringing what is “good” about hom to replace what is “bad” about Honiara. In turn, they are also making a statement about the value they give to hom. Indeed, settling in Honiara is meant to be a remedy in the first place. If they left, that means that they needed something they could not find in their village of origin, that there something they disliked about it.

Once in Honiara, they create a socio-spatial extension to modify it, without necessarily undertaking a substitution, reproduction, or identification with hom. In brief, hom and

Honiara are physically separate places that Kwara’ae people unite with their concretions of value. What geography divides is united by human action.

Tonkinson, 1977: 281; 1985: 152; and Rawlings (1999: 75). On the other hand, even second- generation migrants who never visited the village of origin of their parents, do have some sort of relationship to it. As Margaret Rodman argued for ni-Vanuatu, although a person’s ‘access’ to ground can be ‘won’ or ‘lost’ (1987: 33), connection to place will remain inalienable. Furthermore, Eriksen suggested that place of origin can be looked at as “portable” (2008: 32).

283 As ideal categories of value, it follows, hom and Honiara are not mutually exclusive, because one simply cannot exist as such without constant relation to the other. That is not necessarily a surprising discovery. Ian Frazer, who worked with the Malaitans of the

To’abaita region, arrived at similar conclusions almost thirty years ago. In his study of rural- urban circulation, he wrote that the To’abaita combined “the opportunities of multiple locations without excluding one or other of them as places in which to work and live”

(Frazer, 1985: 225). In the span of almost two generations, not much seems to have changed in this particular respect. Perhaps, the major difference consists of the fact that, while in 1962 “nearly all of the adult male Melanesians in Honiara intended to return to the village” sooner or later (Bellam, 1970: 82), today a growing number of Solomon Islanders envision the urban context as a place they will get to call hom sooner or later. In another context, M. Strathern observed that Hagen migrants regard their sojourn in town “as a stage in life, during which a little ‘home’ is constructed so that through personal associates the migrant can continue being a Hagener, although no longer present in rural society”(M.

Strathern, 1985: 374). Arguably, something similar has been happening between the time when Bellam was writing and the time when I conducted my fieldwork. The consequence, indeed, has been that in the process of transformation of a “hard” life into a “good” life, a

“bad” place has slowly turned in an increasingly “good” place, almost as “good” as hom.

That a growing number of Solomon Islanders look at the urban context as hom might not be immediately evident, especially if one limits one’s observations to what people say.

The risk with such an approach is to present local ideas about traditional life as informing individual life projects as well as collective trajectories, whereas people think and act also in relation with their understanding of the economic and socio-cultural context. That is why I looked at people’s social action within such contexts as acts of valuation, rather than

284 assuming that their ideas, memories or dreams provided enough evidence for what they actually value. In contrast, Berg seems to take people’s statements as sufficient basis for his analysis of Honiara migrants’ attitudes towards hom. He writes: “I never encountered people who used these terms [hom] regarding town although they had lived in town for the greater part of their lives and did not have any plans to move out. What people in town have is haos

(house)” (Berg, 2000: 61). While I can confirm that the opposition between hom and haos is one that people in Honiara frequently articulate, it is only partly correct to affirm that “what people in town have is haos”, for, as I have tried to demonstrate, an increasing number of people are committed to their urban dwelling place as they would be with a place they can call ‘hom’.

3. The value of Honiara

In interrogating the heuristic potential of indigenous statements, I was inspired by M.

Strathern’s seminal works on Hagen migrants in Port Moresby. Strathern argues that there are “certain methodological factors which hold for any investigation into rural-urban movements. People’s statements about their actions, for instance, should be interpreted in relation “to the context in which they are made” (M. Strathern, 1985: 361). One immediate implication of this position is that Strathern does not take people’s “explanations (‘We are in town to earn money’) for personal motives” (Ibid: 360). She pushes her investigation of the reasons to migrate beyond the acknowledgment of indigenous statements, and observes that people make use of such statements for particular purposes; that statements are forms of social action, which in turn opens up a multiplicity of interpretations.

“[S]tatements of an ‘economic’ kind”, for example, “may have the opposite implications” (Ibid: 372). This is the line of thought I pursued, not only because the history

285 of economic anthropology discourages the attribution of purely economistic motives to people’s actions, and Melanesian people in particular, but also because 13 months of fieldwork in Solomon Islands persuaded me that leaving one’s village and settling in

Honiara is an act that resembles a bet much more than an investment. In saying so, I do not wish to imply that all migrants who settle in town are perfectly aware of how little probability they have to make any money in the long term. Nor am I suggesting that all formalist thinkers necessarily deny the role of uncertainty in economic reasoning. What I mean is that Honiara, in the eyes of the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp, is less and less a place where they can reasonably hope to make money and more and more a place they wish to call hom. While, on the one hand, I showed that migrants in Gilbert Camp manage to earn just enough money to survive (see chapter 2), on the other this thesis demonstrates their growing commitment in town life. In other words, they are trying to change the value of Honiara not because they want to make money, but notwithstanding the fact that they will only make just enough to survive. The logical consequence of such a claim for the problem explored in this thesis is that the derogatory statements about life in town may have, and do have, implications that contradict negative valuations of Honiara. What highlights a positive valuation of Honiara, instead, is people’s commitment to improve their conditions of life in town notwithstanding all challenges, as well as their decision to leave their land of origin.

I define ‘commitment’ as ‘evaluation’, following Talcott Parsons:

Evaluation is a process by which certain modes of relation between actors and objects are established. The special case of values and the process of evaluation with which this analysis is concerned is that in which the system of reference is the same on both sides of the evaluative relationship. This is the case where the units participating in a social system – at some point acting human individuals – evaluate the social system in which they themselves participate, i.e., take such a system as

286 object to them. The values which come to be constitutive of the structure of a societal system are, then, the conceptions of the desirable type of society held by the members of the society of reference and applied to the particular society of which they are members. (Parsons, 1968: 136, italics in original)

This turn to Parsons’ theory of value might be surprising towards the end of a thesis oriented by a conceptualization of value as the importance of social action. But there is a reason to do that. Referring to Parsons’ notion of evaluation to conceptualise Kwara’ae commitment to town life highlights how Graeber’s addition (the importance of social action) to Kluckhohn’s theory of value (the conception of the desirable) does not necessarily constitute an advancement to previous definitions of value in social sciences.

Parsons’ own addition to Kluckhohn’s theory of value was precisely an emphasis on social action (what he terms “participating” in the quote above). Graeber, in his book

Towards an anthropological theory of value, only acknowledges a vague relation between Parsons and Kluckhohn’s theory (Graeber, 2001: 2), and never refers to Parsons again. My impression is that this is not by chance. Graeber’s anthropological theory of value would look like a substantial advancement from Kluckhohn’s theory only if one deliberately avoids any reference to Parsons’ attempt to connect individual preferences, social relationships, and culture.

A comparison between two crucial passages of both theories might make my critique more explicit. Graeber conceptualizes value first and foremost as an “inner potential”, and specifies, “value is not created in […] public recognition. Rather, what is being recognized is something that [is], in a sense, already there” (Ibid.: 77). This sounds strikingly similar to

Parsons’s contention that “the system of reference is the same on both sides of the evaluative relationship”, namely the conceptions of the desirable on the one hand and the objectification of value through the recognition of social action on the other.

287 It follows that, if the attempt is still that of elaborating an anthropological theory of value, the problem that emerges from such similarity is twofold: either both Parsons and

Graeber arrived as close to an anthropological theory of value as possible (so far); or both formulated a sociological theory value, rather than an anthropological one. Parsons’ theory is not exactly anthropological to the extent that it reduces culture to social relationships and does not account for its role in mediating the process through which social action and conceptions of the desirable feed into each other. It only points to that process, but does not illustrate it. Similarly, Graeber, does not define the role of culture either, and conflates action and social order in an indistinct process of constant creation (Ibid.). In conclusion, an anthropological theory of value has yet to come.

One way to complement a sociological theory of value with a focus on the culture

“of the desirable type of society held by the members of” (Parsons, 1968: 136) the Gilbert

Camp community could be to engage with theories of cultural change. Theories of cultural change, such as Sahlins’ structure of the conjuncture, can help to make sense of the ways in which Kwara’ae culture adapted to the urban context, thereby laying the grounds for the subsequent growth of commitment in town life. Thus, a brief analysis of the extent to which the phenomena I observed fit within a theory of cultural change can provide the basis for a discussion of the concept of commitment.

A theory of cultural change shall begin with the acknowledgement that the world is constantly changing and no culture is ever identical to itself at different times. As a consequence, it is not empirically possible that a human act of reference, i.e. the act of using a pre-existing category to refer to an element or set of elements in the world, returns a category identical to that used to implement that initial act of reference. There is always something new, if only because each individual learns new things every day. And just like

288 every individual, every culture is different today from what it was yesterday. That difference is imperceptible, minuscule if compared to the preponderance of elements that remain identical and the categories that, as a result, stay unchanged. Robbins seems to suggest such state of affairs when he paraphrases Sahlins as follows: “Often, the world to which people refer will conform fairly well to the categories they use to refer to it (indeed, in many cases it will be a world they and others with whom they live have created through the application of those same categories in earlier acts of reference)” (Robbins, 2007: 7). He uses the phrase ‘fairly well’ because it is just impossible that categories fit snugly against the ever- changing fabric of the world; he uses the expression “often” because the categories do not always conform “well”.

When an individual makes an act of reference, categories are stretched, which suggests that the relationship between human categories and the world is an act of comprehension in the physical sense of ‘taking inside’. While it is arguably impossible to determine whether cultural changes are causes or consequences of changing individual consciousness, I tend to agree with Robbins that “the motives for cultural change must originally be given in the terms of the culture that is changing, and this despite the fact that the changes those motives initiate may quickly render the motives themselves obsolete”

(Ibid.: 6).

When a change occurs in the world, it is reflected in the culture that experiences it to varying degrees of intensity. A relatively low level is characterised by a barely perceptible event that is reflected in a rapid and imperceptible adaptation of the categories. When this happens, people do not need to readjust the way they understand the world. A medium level, called assimilation, is characterised by a relatively modest change in the world that is reflected in a slower process of adaptation, which is also more perceptible in the altered

289 categories, as a consequence. Assimilation takes place when the way of understanding the world requires adjustment, yet a form of adjustment that reflects pre-existing patterns.

Categories do not change in relation to one another, but will be enlarged in order to expand the range of elements they can contain (Sahlins, 1985: 125).

In the previous chapters there are several instances that can be explained in relation to the theory of assimilation. Kwara’ae people who circulate food between Gilbert Camp and Malaita maintain the principles at the basis of their traditional exchange practices by extending fluxes of reciprocal gifts; they attempt to make their voice heard in the land meeting in order to incorporate their valuations of land into the current land policy; they organise a restitution meeting to protect their values in a police station, thereby extending the category of restitution itself; and they assimilate the Pentecostal Gospel of Prosperity within the domestic framework of gender relations. The category of exchange is stretched to accommodate the possibility of distanced reciprocity, but it is not altered in its fundamental relation with ideas of mutual love and respect; Kwara’ae people in Gilbert

Camp still value land for its relationship with the people who live on it, regardless of the major differences resulting from living in a foreign place largely influenced by historical events and vested interests beyond their control; they still place a strong connection between the value of an ancestral name and the value of shell money, but they enlarge the category of ‘valuable’ to include national currency, as is the case in other parts of Melanesia.

The fundamental relationship between the categories of man and woman is not altered while the notions of manhood and womanhood are dilated to lodge new values and solve pernicious moral dilemmas. These forms of adaptation are necessary to make life in town worth living. Kwara’ae men and women have assimilated the new surrounding influences into their existing understandings.

290 Unlike Sahlins, I did not find that Kwara’ae people “hate what they already have, what they have always considered their well being” (Sahlins 1992: 24), feel ‘humiliated’ and then change. Thus, there is not much I can say about Sahlins’ theory of modernisation, apart from acknowledging that adaptation, assimilation, and modernisation are distinct processes only for analytical purposes. In other words, adaptation, assimilation, and adoption (as more correctly defined by Robbins), are not mutually exclusive separate processes, nor necessarily historically ordered. Rather, they are just analytical markers on the continuum of perpetual change within which everyone participates.

Just as anthropologists isolate terms to indicate complex processes that ultimately escape neatly delimited categorisations, so Solomon Islanders make use of analytical categories to articulate their discourses about values, cultural change, and personal life trajectories. Categories such as hom and Honiara stand in a mutually constitutive relation of contrast. But, as mentioned in the introduction, such opposition is not simply projected onto prototypes of good and bad, vice and virtue, hope and despair. Much to the contrary, as I have tried to show in my thesis, within Honiara it is possible to live under the aegis of kastom, and the values of hom can be modified to suit different socio-economic contexts.

Within “Honiara” as a concept, lies a division between living according to Kwara’ae values, and living forgetful of hom. Correspondingly, not everything Kwara’ae people include within the supra-category of “hom” reflects their values, which is the main reason why they leave.

Hom, to a certain extent, is an ‘unhomely’ place. However, much of what hom stands for in their eyes is “good”, which is one reason why some come back or wish to.

So, while hom and Honiara can be regarded as stark opposites, from another point of view they are not so neatly opposed. Sub-categories of gud and nogud are nested within both, thereby creating a series of homologies. And even within sub-categories such as “living a

291 good life in Honiara” it is possible to include sub-sub-categories of people who live according to shared notions of “good” life more than others. Distinctions and homologies, thus, take place concomitantly at multiple levels, thereby building up an edifice of mutually constitutive notions, a process that can be termed ‘fractal recursivity’ (Irvine & Gal, 2000).

When “people construct ideological representations of linguistic differences” (Ibid.: 37) that result in homologies and oppositions (depending on the level of the relationship), such discursive agency may result in fundamental changes in the ways in which supra-categories identify with meaning. It is through such a process that some people in Gilbert Camp are starting to consider Honiara as their hom. The fusion of opposition and homology (living a

“good” life in a “bad” place) that takes place at lower levels of the discursive edifice moves upward, towards categories that are more and more general and inclusive (“Honiara is our hom”). However, these are categories that are yet to come, let alone crystallise.

The process of negotiation between values attached to hom and Honiara is not mechanical, nor predictable on the basis of a deterministic sequence from the experience of being ‘unplaced’ to the redefined ontology of being ‘in-place’ (Austin-Broos, 2009). Rather, the articulation of discourses involving the mobilisation of supra-categories such as hom and

Honiara, as well as their sub-categories, is a meaningful act of selection among several mutually constitutive fractal relationships between values, operated by people who are conscious about what they want, and do not want, and especially how they want to live.

Meaningful selection of values through the creative manipulation of cultural logics is another way of expressing the concept of commitment. The Kwara’ae people are devoted to the idea of hom; but hom, as Blunt and Dowling (2006: blurb) wrote “can evoke a sense of belonging as well as alienation”. That is why the Kwara’ae leave their homeland, while feeling attached to it, and reside in Honiara even if they despise it, or at least that is what

292 they say. Hom is a concept that cannot be enclosed into a succinct definition in terms of belonging, but also in terms of space. Spatially, hom is highly flexible, because “ideas and emotions about home can be stretched across the world” (Ibid.), not to speak of the relatively small strip of sea separating Honiara from the Kwara’ae district.

Even if associated to imaginaries and ideas of homeliness and alienation, hom is ultimately a place. It is a concrete place where the Kwara’ae people concretise their values through what I called hom-making practices, which is another way of expressing the concepts of commitment and meaningful selection. What the expression ‘hom-making practices’ adds to these concepts, though, is that it conveys at the same time the idea of hom as a desirable place (which I presented in the form of indigenous statements), and the lived experience of locality and commitment to processual construction (which I investigated in numerous case studies). Hom, in brief, is something that is made day by day.

Gilbert Camp is not the hom of the Kwara’ae people only as long as we look at hom as an ideal. But if we look at hom as hom-making practices (i.e. as verb rather than a noun, as actions rather than ideas), then Gilbert Camp can be looked at as their “hom, now”. Hom- making is the meaningful selection of hom values concretised in the lived experience of being in town and being committed to living there. My thesis has been an attempt to demonstrate that the Kwara’ae people of Gilbert Camp currently have that commitment. I have done so through the analysis of a series of ethnographically informed accounts of their efforts to live according to their values in a place where it is “hard” to do so. The fact that they try so hard demonstrates that to a certain extent Gilbert Camp is already their hom.

293

294 APPENDIX A – 7 HOUSEHOLDS

1. Kakadi

Kinship diagram

Household map

295

Basic information

Info Gordon Helen Jacob Ralph Charles Fred Age 60 55 19 15 14 12 Occupation Catechist House Librarian Student Student Student maid Education Grade 6 No edu Form 3 Form 2 Grade 6 Grade 4 Income $300/f $400/f $400/f Unempl Unempl Unempl

Terms of address

Calls -> Gordon Helen Jacob Ralph Charles Fred Gordon - Mami/Helen Jacob Ralph Charles Fred Helen Dadi - Jacob Ralph Charles Fred Jacob Dadi Mami - Ralph Charles Fred Ralph Dadi Mami Jacob - Charles Fred Charles Dadi Mami Jacob Ralph - Fred Fred Dadi Mami Jacob Ralph Charles -

History

Gordon Gordon was born in Fiu (central Kwara’ae, Malaita) where he spent his childhood attending one of the schools of the Church of Melanesia. He came in Honiara when he was about 10 years old, with a brother in-law (married to one of Gordon’s kasinsista). The man was already in his fifties, was working for the police, and needed some domestic help. Gordon worked in his garden, where he cultivated cassava, cabbage and potato. Later, Gordon started to work for a Chinese man, who asked him to move and go to live in a house with other workers. This was a way to have them all at work at the same time. Gordon’s brother in-law was happy to let him go. In the Chinese man’s house six men were living, three from Malaita and three from the Western Province. Every day at 7 o’clock the Chinese came to pick them up. They all did the same job as shopkeepers until 8 p.m., 7 days a week. The pay was not high, but the Chinese man paid always on time. The prices were still low, and Gordon

296 earned his first money to buy clothes, food, etc. But after five years he was tired of this exhausting job. So, the six workers proposed to the Chinese that each of them had one free day a week on different days. The program was accepted. But when Gordon asked to be paid 500 dollars a month instead of 400, the Chinese man said no. So, he applied for a job as a security guard. He was 28 years old, and from that moment he worked every night of the week from 6 PM to 6 AM, with four other men from Malaita and one from Guadalcanal. He was paid SBD$50 more than the Chinese man. During those years he married and had his first son, Leonard. The contract ended in 1992, when he was about 35. At that time a friend of him from US, who used to live in Gilbert Camp in 1988 as part of an Episcopalian mission, came back to Solomon Islands and sought his cooperation. From 1992 to 1998 Gordon worked for him at the office of the Church of Melanesia. His name was Charles Dugnolle, and taught opticianry to Gordon. He financed his training in Australia and they ran a small optical centre in Honiara. But when the Tensions erupted their business was strongly affected and Charles, who was already 80, had to leave. Gordon tried to continue the work from his house, but it was very difficult and he ended up being unemployed for several years. Today, he works intermittently for the local Anglican church of Gilbert Camp, and enjoys his late years smoking cigarettes and chewing betel nut in front of the house. He thinks he will build a house in Malaita, “when I come back home”.

History of the household The house was built in 1988, immediately after Helen and Gordon’s marriage. During the tensions, the house was dismantled and brought over to Malaita. After the Tensions, the materials were transported again to Honiara and the house was rebuilt in the same area. The household includes one main building made of wood and corrugated iron, including two bedrooms, one living room and one storage room. Gordon and Helen sleep in one room, Jacob in the other. Sometimes Fred likes to sleep with his parents. When Celes comes to visit her parents, she can sleep in the storage room. A lodge serves as bedroom for the three younger children. There is an outdoor cesspit and one kitchen divided into two rooms, one open, one closed with a lock. In the garden space around the house there are three mango trees, two ngali nut trees and one starfruit tree. The main place of gathering is the living room, where the family members have their meals, rest, and watch television together. Gordon spends most of his time sitting in the veranda in front of the house.

History of the marriage Gordon and Helen married in 1988, April 9th. They had met in Honiara, in Point Cruz, while walking in the streets. Gordon approached her and started to chat with her. He says that “it was not a time to go to clubs and things like that”. So, he went to see his relatives in Malaita and asked them to make a proposal to Helen’s parents on his behalf. No bride price was demanded for Helen, as she and her family are members of the SDA church, which strongly condemns bride price as unholy and inhuman. They married at hom. Not many relatives came to their marriage. Those who were still living in Malaita attended it, whereas those who were living elsewhere did not attend. Some pigs were killed. As a consequence of their union, Helen converted to Anglicanism.

297 Typical week

Gordon If he is on duty at the church, he usually wakes up at 5 o’clock in the morning. At 5.30 he has to beat the drum at the church. But if he is off duty, he can sleep as much as he likes. Sometimes he rests, sometimes he goes to the garden to dig out some tubers. Over a week, if he feels like, he can go every day. But if he is tired, he can also not go at all. During the course of the current year he was employed as a lay preacher. The work was highly beneficial, in many ways: he got leaner, more elegant, he diminished cigarettes and betel nut, and he found more customers for his private activity of optician (there is a surprising number of people who repeatedly break their glasses in the Church of Melanesia).

Helen Helen works every day from Monday to Saturday, from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. as a housemaid in Honiara, for a couple from PNG. When she comes home, she cooks food, washes clothes, swipes the ground and the house, serves the dinner and washes the dishes. In the evening, she often attends the church services and the events organized by the Mothers Union. Over the weekend, she usually goes to the gardens to get some food, which she also cooks.

Jacob Jacob works every day from Monday to Saturday, from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. as a librarian for the Church of Melanesia. When he comes home, he relaxes and sometimes cooks some food. In the evening, he usually watches television or talks on his mobile phone with friends or with his girlfriend. During the weekends, he volunteers at the church. Sometimes he goes to the gardens to get some food for the family. He is the leader of the youth group of the local Anglican church.

Ralph Ralph is interested in clothes and music. He likes the idea of making money and is recently building a small maket haus. He stopped attending the Anglican church, although he does not want to explain the reason for that. However, the fact that he is thinking to move to the Kingdom Harvest speaks about the reasons of his disaffection for the Anglican church.

Charles Charles is a devoted Christian who wants to become a doctor or a priest. He is very intelligent, and I think he has a lot of chances of success.

Fred Fred loves playing football and would like to be a footballer. However, he thinks that it will never be possible, and thus accepts the idea of becoming a clerk.

Decision making Gordon is the head of the house, cif blo haus blo mifala, as he says. As a consequence, he has the authority to take decisions about everything concerning the household. Gordon says: “They will listen to me: if I say ‘pay this, they must pay. If they do not pay, then I can say: ‘ok, you quit your job’. Because I am the boss. So, if I say ‘Jacob, you quit’, he must quit. If I say ‘Helen, you quit your job’, then she quits her job. Because I can go to the place where they work and say ‘Ok, let this man go. Ok, let this woman go’.”

298 Indeed, in this family his authority is fully recognized. However, there is no really need to exercise such an authority, because everyone in the house does what s/he has to do in a surprisingly diligent way. This is certainly true concerning money: “Each one has the money he earns. Jacob has his money and he knows what to buy with it. Also Helen has her own money and she knows what to buy with it. (...) The only important thing when they receive their money, is to pay the food for the house. The rest they can use it as they like”. Charles, Ralph and Fred do not have any money, and seldom receive any from Gordon. The only relative who disrespected Gordon’s authority is his son Leonard. He refused to marry the girl Gordon had engaged for him. She was a suitable candidate according to Gordon, because she was young and hardworking. But then, because Leonard refused to marry her, Gordon had to pay a compensation of 5 tafuli’ae to her family. For this reason, and because he decided to go to live with an older divorced woman, Gordon told him to never come again to his house. However, the prohibition was much more strong in theory than in practice. Leonard came to visit a couple of times since I am here.

Financial support of the family There are no other sources of income apart from the incomes of the employed members of the family. During my stay, I paid the school fees of the boys, as it seemed to me that this was a very severe expense for the family. However, this seems not to have changed anything in their financial condition and everyday consumption. The only change I noticed is that Jacob (who is normally charged with the payment of the school fees) started to buy wholesale products. The money he saved recently allowed him to buy some stocks of tinned tuna and noodles, which he sells to me and to the rest of the family, as if he made a maket haos of his bedroom. No other contributions come from other relatives. Some food and presents do sometimes enter the household as a consequence of the connection with the church and with other relatives. However, these contributions are not considered as part of the household subsistence. In other words, they think that they have to go on with what they have, and do not rely on the other households.

Informal work and housework Helen, who does all the activities mentioned above, does most of the housework. Very seldom, Gordon and his son Jacob take over and go to the garden, cook, and clean the house. This can happen as frequently as once a month. I did not witness any disagreement concerning the nature or the amount of work. Work, like food, is a matter of personal contribution, and deciding the amount is up to the good will of the giver. The younger children are charged with the collection of water at the common hosepipe, which is about 0.5 km from the house. When Celes comes to visit, she is charged with the same type and amount of work as her mother.

Childcare As far as money is concerned, the care of the children is a responsibility of Jacob and Helen. Gordon did not have a job during the first months of my stay, and so that seemed the reason. However, when he was employed in the local church as a lay catechist, the situation did not change much, also because his income is the lowest of the three. The values that are taught to the kids are primarily “Unity. Love. Not to involve in rabbis groups. Live in unity and love with all people”. They are obviously brought up in Christianity, although they engage with it to different degrees. Jacob is the most committed,

299 followed by Charles and Fred. Ralph is not even attending the church Sunday services. Gordon is not happy with that, although he does not intervene. He intervened when Ralph got organized with some of his friends to go to the Kingdom Harvest Sunday service. He stopped him, even if Ralph had already bought new clothes for the occasion. Gordon’s plans for the future of the kids are like those of many other parents in Gilbert Camp. He says: “I want them to work and build their own houses, and to be happy with their wives and children in their houses”. Building a house is indeed the sign of a boy becoming a man.

Financial management Jacob is the only person in the household who has a bank account. Every month he tries to save at least SBD$300, but he does not always manage to do that. Helen does not save money, because everything she earns is used to maintain their living standards in the household. Gordon admits that he cannot save any money. He says: “Mifala no save kipim mani nomoa. Mani hem kam hem go. So mifala no save putum lo bank akaunt”. As a consequence, when Gordon did not have a job he had to ask money to his wife or to his son to buy cigarettes and betel nut. Now that he has a job he can buy his pleasures with his own money. When Gordon was not working, he could not give any pocket money to the kids. So Jacob or their mother gave them some. Jacob is also responsible to pay the school fees of his brothers. He and his brothers understand this as an act of love that will be reciprocated when Jacob will have to build his house, in Malaita. They do not have any relative overseas, and no one sends remittances to this household. The people of the household who spend money are Gordon (cigarettes and betel nut, sometimes food), Helen (food, soap) and Jacob (food, meat, fish, and other exceptional delicacies). On a daily basis, food is the main expense of the household. Electricity is the second one: SBD$15 are paid every week by Jacob, to the neighbour, Roswell, who is also Gordon’s kasinbrata. Their relationship is not very close. They say that Roswell is Gordon’s kasinbrata, because Gordon is Roswell’s dad’s ankol, because Roswell’s dad is Gordon’s mother’s kasinbrata and Gordon’s mother is Roswell’s father’s kasinsista. But this is not really ‘correct’ according to the kinship terminology, and their explanation was rather intended to account for an issue about which they do not seem to know much, nor to care much, actually. When asked about what they would do with a little bit of money, Gordon answers that they would “Buy food: rice, peanut oil, salt, soap. Pay the school fees, and buy some clothes”. When asked about what is the most valuable thing they have in the house, Gordon answers: “Just Christianity, nothing else. However, we clearly need money, clothes”. Then I specified that I wanted to know about material things, and he said that the most valuable things are definitely their tafuli’ae, although the TV set and the DVD reader are monetarily more valuable. However, monetary value is not really the value he sees in the tafuli’ae. He says: “No, tafuli’ae is the most important, because it is for living”, meaning that it is part of the reproduction of human life through marriage. When asked about what they would do with a lot of money, Gordon thinks of investments, and says: “We would buy a truck to run a market, and buy a store”. Indeed, Jacob started to do some petty investments as soon as he had saved enough.

300 Gordon contends that they ask financial support to friends and relatives “only in times of need, and only if you need important things”. Otherwise, it is not considered as a proper way of life to rely on the resources of the other families.

Informal external relationships There is no particular relative that has to be met more than the others. Although I could observe that in-laws pay at least a monthly visit to each other, this is not considered as a special occasion, but rather as a way to have a little bit of fun watching a game on TV and sharing some food. They do not really talk when they pay visit to each other, but rather watch TV in silence.

Formal external relationships Gordon is a lay preacher at the local COM. Jacob participates at the services and the Summer School as a Youth Leader. Helen is part of the Mothers Union. They do not take part in any political activity now. Gordon indeed says: “I do not like to be part of any political group. They are rabbis. I want to lead a Christian life”.

Ideology The most important value that Gordon claims to hold is “the family”. More concretely, his kids are said to be the most important thing of his life. When asked about the most important value to hold in order to live in a “good” community, Gordon says that “Most important for the community is Christianity. If people do other things, this is dangerous, because it brings troubles. If people live in any other way, then this spoils our community. If the community holds and everyone leads a Christian life, then it is good”. By ‘Christianity’ he means all kind of Christianity, regardless of denomination. However, does not like Pentecostal churches, which he sees a ‘sheep stealers’.

301 2. Ogamauri

Kinship diagram

Household map

302

303 History

Geoffrey Geoffrey was born in Kwaio and came to live in Gilbert Camp when he was 5. He spent most of his childhood in Gilbert Camp in the house of his mother’s sister, Miriam, a Kwaio woman who married a Kwara’ae man, Allen. He lived in their green store at the top of the hill, where Gilbert Camp begins. Even if Geoffrey was boarding at St. Joseph school, he was sleeping in the store, as a security measure. His economic support was provided by Miriam and Allen. His dad was not working and could not pay the school fees. But for the first 10 weeks the school did not charge any fee. So, with the very little money that his dad gave him, Geoffrey became “a business man in the school”, as he says. He bought cigarettes and sold them at a dearer price in the school breaks, making a profit of 150 dollars for each sleeve. One sleeve of cigarettes cost 60 dollars, and he sold one cigarette for 50 cents. One sleeve of cigarettes consisted of 12 packets, each had 35 cigarettes in it and was sold in two days. The bus fare to the school was 50 cents. 35 x 0.5 = 17.50 x 12 =210 - 61 (1 dollar for bus fare to the shop, and 60 for the sleeve) = SBD$149. At that time he was also working in the coconut plantation of the school, as a form of contribution towards the school fees. The plantation was divided into blocks, allocated to groups of students. Most students wanted to work in the blocks that were marked with small numbers, but, when he was asked, Geoffrey said he wanted to work in the last block, because that was the closest to the city. In this way, the bus fare to the shop was the lowest. When he was going to the plantation, he was wearing the work clothes and holding his knife, but in his backpack he had the clothes to go in town and buy the cigarettes. After the first three months of the first year, he had the money to pay the school fees. For about five years he continued to work in this way, and he was never caught up by the teachers. When his father asked him how could he pay the school fees, he told him the story. had he been caught, he would have been expelled. Sometimes his workmates were angry with him. This created a danger: he might have been denounced. So, he bought their silence with a present, which most of the times consisted of a free cigarette. During the Tensions he remained in Honiara. Today he is 29, he is a teacher in the Florence Young school and attends the AOG church in Gilbert Camp.

Rose Rose was born in Bogonaverra, an area in Honiara. She attended primary and secondary school in Honiara. Her parents are from Lau, North Malaita. At the time of the tensions, she went back to Malaita. Then, at the end of the tensions she repeated Form 2 and continued her education in Naha Secondary School. She studied until form 5 and then she attended the college for two years, where she obtained a diploma as a teacher for primary school. She is now teaching in Guavale Town Council School.

Henry Henry was born in Sulufou Islands, in the northernmost part of Malaita. He came to Honiara in 1991 and worked for SIPL, a plantation company. He worked in this company until the Tensions. During the Tensions he came back to Malaita. After the Tensions, he came back to Honiara and worked as a carpenter. He built a house in Gilbert Camp, where he lives now with his wife, their daughter and son-in-law. He works the wood and produces furniture. With his wife, he bakes cakes that he sells in the store owned by his son-in-law.

304

Bethry Bathry was born in Sulufou Islands too, where she met and married Henry. She followed him as a good Malaitan wife for the rest of her life. Now, she lives in Gilbert Camp with him, works as a shopkeeper for his son-in-law and bakes cakes.

Linda Linda stays with Geoffrey and Rose in order to attend the school. In Kwaio, she had to walk for more than 20 km to attend school. Her father was very worried for this and told Geoffrey to have her with him so that she can attend the Naha secondary school, which is very close to Gilbert Camp. She has a room for herself. Her father is Geoffrey’s kasinbrata, being the son of his father’s brother. He helped Geoffrey to make up his bride price, contributing with a pig and one shell money. “Those token of appreciation is very, very big, so in return to that I have to do something else: I have to take care of Linda”, says Geoffrey, adding that one day she will remember that. Rose and Geoffrey call Linda by her kastom nem Koi because that is just a shorter, and thus easier, way of addressing her.

Reginald Reginald is a young son from the traeb of Henry. His father, Leonard Saukui, did not do anything for Geoffrey in the past. However, Geoffrey feels compelled to take care of Leonard’s boys, because he is the brother of his father-in-law. Leonard is a sata, i.e. someone that is “one with me”. In Geoffrey”s words: “Olketa sata blo mi na. Mi cannot just turnim daon. Sapos mi turnim daon it means mi no mekem high lo iu, mi no rispektim iu. So mi sei: hem olright, iumi kam.” Two years ago, Reginald came to Gilbert Camp to visit his anti, because she was sick. The road was not accessible, and that is why his stay was prolonged till the school period started. Thus, Rose and Geoffrey decided to keep him in their house and take charge of his education. They call Reginald by his kastom nem “Afia” because that is just a shorter, and thus easier, way of addressing him.

Edward Edward came to live in Geoffrey’s house because, to his father, he was more useful there than in Malaita. One day Bethry and Henry went to Malaita to vote for the national election. At that time, Edward did not want to go to school. So, they asked Leonard, his father, if they could take him with them, to work in Honiara.

Alek Alek’s father, John, did not help Geoffrey in the past. Once, Geoffrey and Rose went to Kwaio and visited him, and told him to stop sleeping with his wife, because he already had 9 children. To convince him, Geoffrey offered John the following deal: Geoffrey will take care of one of the children and John will sterilize his wife with a medical operation. The deal was sealed between the two men. Geoffrey, among all the children, decided to take Alek. Alek is doing really well at school. All the boys, Alek, Edward and Reginald, live in the storage room behind the store.

305 History of the household At the beginning of their marital life, Geoffrey and Rose were living in Bouganverra. They struggled with water supply problems. Aware of the situation, Rose’s parents invited them to come in their house in Gilbert Camp, free of charge. Once they came in the house, Geoffrey and Rose realized they could make the school pay for it. Because of his employment at the Naha Secondary School, Geoffrey is eligible to be paid the rent of a house worth SBD$ 2000 of rent a month. But he decided to rent a SBD$ 1200 house because such is the value of the house owned by his in-laws. “The principle” he says “is always the same: I help someone else because he helps me”. The land title is Temporary Occupied Land. They are going through the process of registration. The house is situated in front of the main road and of the main stream of water running through Gilbert Camp, which provides them with a close access to water supply. The building has two floors. Geoffrey, Rose, Mesi and Linda live in the first floor, whereas Henry and Bethry live in the ground floor. There is a kitchen on the right hand side of the house, where all the people of the household are fed. The ground floor is half open and it is the place where the members of the household spend most of their time. Henry, in particular, uses this space to work his wood.

History of the marriage After obtaining his diploma in Finance Management and Business Administration in 2003, Geoffrey settled back to Gilbert Camp, where he used to live with Alek and Miriam. He went to work in Naha school in 2006 as treasurer, but because they did not have anyone to teach Business, then he was offered that job, and he accepted. Then, the day he taught his first class, he met Rose. He really liked her, but did not ask her friendship during that year. She also liked him. The following year, she attended St. Nicholas College, and so the two could not see each other as often as they did in the previous year. However, they could still meet up when she was going to buy butter in the store where Geoffrey worked. Geoffrey interpreted this as a sign that God was listening to his prayers. “I don’t use airplanes’ he says, meaning that he did not like to find a messenger to let Rose know that he liked her. So, one day, he approached her in the store when no one else was in, and asked: “Mi garem samtin fo talem iu. Hem olrait if mi talem?” “Iu talem kam, hem olrait nomoa.” “Mi laikem fo mekem frensip witim iu ya.” “Bae mi tintin abaot diswan.” When Rose left the store, he jumped like a crazy. He knew that the answer would have been yes! However, from that moment, he started to ‘campaign’, which means that he did his best to be elected as Rose’s Fren. When she was passing in front of the store, he used to call her: “hello”, “goodnight”, etc. He noticed that her way of saying hello and good night changed since his first request. Rose was answering with a much more passionate voice now. During the following two weeks Rose thought about the request, and decided to speak with her parents. They said she had to refuse and to wait at least until her education was completed. After two weeks, Geoffrey asked her what was her response. She said that she was happy to accept, but that he had to ask the permission of her parents. He though he had more chances with Rose’s mother, and visited her. The woman liked him, and said "Olrait nomoa ya!".

306 So, the mother was convinced, but the father not yet. “So, mi traem sugar nomoa” said Geoffrey, i.e. he continued his ‘campaign’. Rose’s father is a carpenter. Geoffrey was working for the Naha school, which needed a carpenter to do some improvements in the buildings. Geoffrey then decided to choose Henry for that job. Henry did not know that it was Geoffrey who made the selection. In addition, Geoffrey instructed the shopkeeper of the school to give anything Henry demanded for free, which was to be debited to himself, Geoffrey. So, every time Henry visited the shop he was given free cigarettes, betel nut and food. Then, when the payday came, Geoffrey visited Henry and gave him the money: SBD$10,000. Although it was the school that paid, it was Geoffrey who signed on the behalf of the school. At that point, Henry said : ‘Hey Fren, hem big samtin watna iu givim mi ya, hem bik slein tumas ya.” So, Geoffrey felt encouraged, and decided to advance his request. He was so scared. He called him ‘Dadi’ and said that he was in a relationship with his daughter. The man bent his head down, and when he lifted it Geoffrey saw that he was crying. Henry spoke so: “Son, I accept you with all my heart.” From that day, Geoffrey could come to Henry’s house and be always a guest. There was always food ready for him. He soon started to contribute to the household too. To begin with, he bought some copper to make the roof. Later, Rose failed her Form 5 exam. That is the point in which Geoffrey advanced his marriage request. Being out of the school path, Rose’s parents had no excuses to refuse his proposal. However, Geoffrey later visited one of his anti at the School of Education and asked her to select his wife for a placement as a student. And so she did. So, in the span of few months, the two were married, employed and happy. Geoffrey says that he paid a bride price of 20 tafuli’ae for Rose. He says that this was a low bride price, compared to the other girls from Lau. However, I learnt from another relative that she was paid for an amount much higher than that. The same informant suggested that Geoffrey mentioned a lower bride price in order not to put pressure on his beloved young wife. In any case, after he agreed the amount with Henry, Geoffrey went to visit his anti Miriam and asked for support and contributions from his relatives. When he said the girl was from Lau, his anti answered: “NO!” “What is the reason?” He asked. “Bikos olketa chargim!” Was the answer. So, he realized that he had to rely on himself only. At that time he was working at the Naha community High School. He was the treasurer. Many parents were not able to pay the school fees of their kids and presented their problems to him. They agreed to pay the school fees in the form of shell money, which he happily converted into SI dollars. (I suppose that in this way he obtained the shell money with a big discount). In so doing, he collected part of his bride price. Then, he saved some more money from his salary, which he used at the Honiara central market to buy tafuli’ae. Thanks to his efforts, he managed to collect 16 tafuli’ae. At that point he went to see his anti again, and presented the results of his efforts. His relatives, impressed by his results, agreed to help him with 4 tafuli’ae. Indeed, 5 tafuli’ae (one tafuli’ae is the one that should be provided by the groom himself) is the usual amount accepted by Kwara’ae and by the SSEC and ACOM churches, being considered as a fair bride price. In addition, he was also able to collect 5000 dollars from the savings of his work. Finally, he managed to make up the total amount of bride price to marry Rose: 2 Kobi malefo (the Lau word for two sets of 10 tafuli’ae) and 5000 dollars.

307 At the marriage ceremony, Geoffrey paid the bride price. Rose’s side gave “twenty bags of rice fo kilim bek na twentyfala tafuli’ae, witim wanfala pikpik fo kilim bek faiftausen dolla”, said Geoffrey, adding that in this way “they exchanged the same worth back to me”, i.e. “twenty bag rice, one laif pikpik” as Rose specified.

Typical week Rose and Geoffrey work as teachers from Monday to Friday, from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. However, at the moment they wake up very early in the morning, to take care of the baby they recently adopted. They do not cultivate a garden, and thus they have to buy all their food at the market, or directly from their own shop. On Sundays they attend the services of the AOG church, and take part in the church activities over the weekend. Bethry and Henry produce and sell cakes every day. In the spare time, Bethry sews and Henry works the wood to make furniture.

Decision making Although Rose earns the same salary as Geoffrey and the two believe in a (relatively) liberal idea of marriage and equality, "That cultural tingim hemi stey". So, although some applications of the principle can be negotiated on a daily basis, for him it is still true that the “man garem upper hand.” This is particularly evident in his financial management of the household resources.

Financial support of the family The main financial support of the family comes from Rose and Geoffrey’s store and from their jobs. With the money they earn they can feed the children, pay the bills and the school fees. Bethry and Henry sell cakes every day. With the money they accumulate, plus the rent paid by the school, they have enough money to contribute to the support of the family. There are no relatives who provide any external support, this household being considered as very well off. They say that with their two works as teachers, they would be able to live in prosperity. But feeding 9 people is very expensive. Geoffrey says: “Sometimes I tell my wife: maybe we should go out and rent somewhere” where no wantok can reach them and drain their resources. “But when you stay, like here, you can’t escape the wantok system.”

Informal work and housework Rose and Geoffrey say that they are frustrated by the many responsibilities connected to the work of teaching and to the house. The students are difficult, especially for Rose, who teaches to very young ones. When they go home, they have to take care of the newly adopted Mesi. Geoffrey exercises his authority in a joyful and paternal way, and is happy to do things that a traditional Malaitan husband would never do. For example, Geoffrey says that he would not clean his own clothes. However, he often cleans the dishes. Once his kasinbrata passed along while he was washing the dishes after our meal, and said to him “why are you doing that? Where is your wife?” Geoffrey later told me: “We realized what we vowed in our marriage (...) there is a vow that we tell to each other (...) so to support that vow, it means that the cultural mentality must be washed away.”

308 Geoffrey is benevolent and liberal compared to other husbands in the neighbourhood. On the other hand, Rose is an educated woman, who knows her rights. In case she was told to do everything, “bae mi no fil gud, bae mi cross”, which means that she would find a way, although rather silent, to protest against the inequality in the allocation of their housework load. She is not supposed to talk about her ill feelings, nor complain, according kastom. But Geoffrey insists that it is important to be in equilibrium because that is the only way to create the condition for a prosperous household.

Childcare They recently adopted Mesi. Sometimes she is difficult, because she cries and does not want to sleep. So, the two share the task. When the baby wakes them up in the very early morning, they share too: Rose cradles her while Geoffrey sleeps, and vice versa.

Financial management Geoffrey is credited his salary in the bank. He withdraws all the money on his payday in order to avoid the charges at each withdrawal. When he is paid a job, he asks his customers to pay him with a check to the ANZ bank account of his wife, so to make it easier and quicker. The same happens when a payment is done through the BSP bank, where Rose has an account. However, only Geoffrey has a credit card, whereas his wife has an easycard, that can be used only inside the bank. Geoffrey and Rose use both accounts to save money. However, when Rose earns some money, she gives it to Geoffrey. He has the ‘supervision’. In reference to that, he says: “mi na man”. He also decides what to do with the money. In case she needs some money, she has to ask, although it is her money and the store belongs to the two of them. They put the money earned with the store in the same place, like they do with their salary. They both earn SBD$ 900, whereas the store produces SBD$ 7-800 a week. Every Sunday they assume that this is the “profit day”, the day in which they count the money they made with the store, which they will use to buy more wholesale products. They are paid fortnightly from their employers. This means that they divide the month in pay week and no-pay week. When it is a no-pay week they use the money of the store to pay for bus fares, food, and all the other expenses. In doing so, they look at themselves as “in debt” with the store. So, when the pay week comes, they will ‘pay the money back to the store’. “We repay our kaon”, as they say. If someone from the house cooks some food, Geoffrey would tell to his relatives working in the store to bring a can of tuna and to write down in the kaon buk how much money is supposed to be paid back. As soon as the fortnight payment comes, he will pay his debt. “You pay to yourself?” I asked him. “That’s right! I pay it to my store”. He thinks that it is not true that a man owns his business. If you take something from the store that costs money, then you have to give the money back, he thinks, “because that is good for the business”. In other words: “I have two pockets. One belongs to me, where I put my earnings. The other one is the business earning. When this pocket of my earnings will be empty, you know what, I can call from the business pocket. Hem still pocket blo mi nomoa!” They have a book they call Haus kaon. Every time one from the haus takes something from the shop, they will write it down. The only people allowed to take kaon from the shop inside the household are Geoffrey, Rose, and her two parents. The other relatives living in the house are not included. They are fed, they are accommodated, but they do not have a job. So, they cannot pay back. Thus, they are not given kaon. For this reason, they are sometimes crossed with Geoffrey.

309 There is another book that is entitled ‘Others’. In this book the people from outside the house are recorded, especially Excel and Thompson (see below), two of Geoffrey’s best friends. To make cakes, Bethry and Henry take the flour, the sugar and the oil from the store. Geoffrey records the expenses involved in the whole process. Then the couple sells the product of their work and, before taking more flour, sugar and oil, they pay their debt to their son-in-law. In the end they gain an income (“That’s our profit”), and the next day they can ask for more kaon of flour, sugar and oil, and start again. They take it today, they ‘change’ it tomorrow. “So, hem no tekem taim” says Geoffrey. He insists that it is a good thing that the kaon does not take time to be returned. He buys the flour just for them. And he always apply a special price for them on all the products (flour costs 85 a bag, he normally sells it at 95, but he sells it to them for 90 ) “bikos olketa lo haus nomoa”. It still makes a profit, for the store. He emphasizes that he would make a profit of five dollars if he sells to them, and of 10 dollars if he sells to the rest of the people. Geoffrey says that he would not accept kaon for a lineal brother of him if he does not satisfy certain standards (must have a job and be trustworthy), “even if he can go around telling stories about me”. He is ready to do anything for his store, because he believes that if he becomes richer, he will be able to help a lot of his relatives.

Informal external relationships Kaon is a good perspective to look at the informal external relations of a household with a store. In general, Geoffrey thinks that kaon is not a good thing, because it ‘disturbs’ the business. “Wantok system kills the business”. So, he tests his customers. If they do not repay their kaon, then he will not accept it from them anymore. Geoffrey gives kaon to some of the wantoks and to some of his friends. Like Excel, from Choiseul, who lives right beyond the flower boundary between their houses. “I always address him as a brother, though he is from Choiseul”. Excel’s kids call Geoffrey their ankol and Rose their anti. “Nothing differentiates us”. Geoffrey trusts Excel because he always helped him, and because he has a job, which means that he can pay his own debts. Excel works in the ANZ bank, and when Geoffrey goes to the bank and cues, Excel might find a way to make him jump the cue. Once Geoffrey had to build a bridge for his house and did not have enough timber, and Excel gave him some. His wife is a nurse, and assists Rose and Geoffrey any time, so that they do not have to go to the hospital and pay the visit. He also gives money to his ankol, Peter Thompson, from North Malaita, on Geoffrey’s mother’s side. His mother, from North Malaita, married a Kwaio man. When Geoffrey was young, his mother’s younger brother Peter paid his school fees. They lived together for a while. Geoffrey trusts him because they know each other well since long time, and because he has a good job. He has “no hesitation” to allow credit to his store. Beside these people, Geoffrey accepts kaon only from the people living in his house: Rose’s parents, and Rose herself.

Formal external relationships They are not part of any group, beside the AOG church.

310 Ideology The most important work for Geoffrey is his school work, because through serving in the school he is doing a good thing for his funga. In case he leaves the job, the school would stop paying the rent to them. They get SBD$ 1200. He says that he most important thing for him “experience”. He cannot see God, he can only have faith in him. But the world, he can see it, and especially his wife and his daughter, because he can touch them, feel them. Then there is God. For him, the most important value of a community is the work that is to be done together to attain objectives of development. The most important thing he wants to transmit to his child, as well as those who stay with him, is that in life it is important to do, to work, and to achieve.

311

3. Misimanu

Kinship diagram

Household map

312

313 History

William William attended the Kwai primary school in his home island, Kwai island. Then he attended the Su’u secondary school (SSEC) in East Kwara’ae, where he was given his Christian name. Then he moved to Honiara and attended the St. Joseph school. Then he studied at the college of high education for 4 years to get the certificate that attested his skills as a mechanic. Over the years of his education, his father supported him. He worked as a mechanic in a company for almost 40 years. He married twice. His first wife died during the Tensions. She had an infection in the backbone and could not access any medicine because of the Tensions. When she died, William buried her in Honiara. He married again the following year. In 2003 he stopped to work as a mechanic and started activities like feeding pigs, and fixing the cars of his neighbours.

Angie Angie was born in Gilbert Camp and attended a primary school close to Gilbert Camp. Then, during the year of her Form 4 she was “disturbed” by William. They married that same year, when she was about 16 years old. Since then, she became a wife and a mother, and carried out daily tasks as a housewife.

Enoch and Clement They came to stay with William and their sister at some stage of their educational pathway. William is helping his brothers-in-law as a form of respect towards their parents, his parents-in-law. They did not ask him to do that directly. When Enoch passed from Form 6 to Grade 1, they called William and asked him if he could go to read the results. He went, and found out that Enoch was passing to the Florence Young secondary school, which is not far from Gilbert Camp. When he communicated to them this information, they said “oh, so then he will go to stay with someone in the roundabouts”, which was an indirect way to ask if Enoch could stay in William’s house. And indeed William said: “Oh, not at all, he can come and stay with me”. The same happened with Clement. This is a form of respect towards the in-laws, and it is supposed to be a mark of their unity as one family. He is conscious that he might not live enough to receive something back in exchange for the help that he provided to his in-laws, but he is sure that his children will.

History of the household William built the house in 1987. The land on which the house is built is under Temporary Occupation Licence. The process to give him the title of the land started many years ago, when he built the house. He was supposed to pay a yearly fee to the government of SBD$ 100, but stopped to pay in 2000. Since that time he accumulated an arrears of SBD$ 2000. Until he pays the arrears, he cannot register. All the people living in this house speak Kwara’ae with each other. The kids also speak Kwara’ae. However, they also speak Pidgin, sometimes mixed with Kwara’ae words. The house was built in “Western style” because “this is the way things should be done in town”. The kitchen and the toilet are built within the main structure. There are three bedrooms: one for the boys (Enoch, Clement and Darakona), one for the girls (Natalyn, Mamari’i, Elim Ala, Hilary), and one for William, Angie and the youngest son, Enoch. Around the house, they have two small gardens cultivated by Enoch, and a piggery with 10

314 sows, seven pigs and 18 piglets. There are three mango trees and one pawpaw tree around the house, and one water tank.

Hirstory of the marriage William did not pay any bride price for his first wife. The parents of the girl raised their hand when in the SSEC the pastor asked “who is ready to commit not to ask any bride price?” William says: “They made a promise to God”. For his first wedding no feast was organised. At the time he asked the hand of his second wife, he was very sad for the death of his first wife. So he was drinking alcohol to cheer himself up. The SSEC forbids the use of alcohol. However, when William came to the house of the girl, he was drunk. The parents welcomed him, and treated him well. They demanded 5 tafuli’ae. He says that the reason why they trusted him even if he was drunk and sad, was that he has a reputation of being a hardworking man. It was a shared understanding that, as soon as he recovers from his recent lost, he would stop drinking. He paid the bride price for his second wife, although she was from the same SSEC church: 5 tafuli’ae, which is a tolerated amount in this church. After the bride price, the feast was not celebrated with many people, because many in the SSEC did not consider the marriage as “holy” because it was celebrated in the “traditional” ways. At the time of the Tensions, William did not go back to Malaita. He feared the people with a gun, not the Tensions in themselves.

Typical week William says that he does not care a lot about time, because he is unemployed. So, he wakes up according to his commitments. However, this is largely far from being an easy life. In order to have his cakes ready to be sold in the morning he must work from 1 a.m. till 4 a.m.. If he has no other commitments, he can rest during the rest of the day. Angie sells their cakes and buns in front of their house from 6.30 and 7.30. Then she goes to the gardens and digs some tubers out for the dinner, and eventually picks some fruits (banana, pawpaw) as an afternoon snack. Back at home, she washes the clothes and takes care of the children. She cleans the house and cooks, and after the meals she washes the dishes. Natalyn sometimes helps her, although the woman is too old to carry most of these tasks out. So, Natalyn is responsible for the children, taking care they do not do anything dangerous. On Sundays, William and Angie attend the service at the Pentecostal Bible Way Centre.

Decision making William is the chief of his house. Thus, he is free to take decisions about everything going on inside of it. For example, he is the one who takes decisions about the work and the money earned by his wife. He decides what to do with it. He says that he does not know what his future will be. He lives day to day. He is building his house in Malaita, even if he is treating his house in Honiara as a hom. As he says “Bata mi tritim lo hea olsem hom”.

Financial support of the family As neither William nor Angie have a fixed income, they have to work hard every day to secure their next day meal. Their main income generating activities are: pig raising, mechanics (William), baking cakes and buns (both). Every morning they make SBD$ 200.

315 They bake the cakes in the house, with a stove that William himself built. He also builds stoves and other cooking equipment, and sells them for SBD$ 300 each. They spend SBD$ 300 a week to make their buns (flour + gas) and they earn about SBD$ 1400 in a week. With a profit of SBD$ 900 they have to buy more flour and gas and feed the family. In addition, William is trying to feed his 10 sows because he wants to sell their piglets. In this way, he hopes to make enough money to pay the school fees for his children.

Informal work and housework The work of the wife consists of cleaning the house, taking care of the kids, cooking, washing dishes and clothes, working in the gardens and selling cakes. However, William says that if his wife does not want to work, he will simply say: “OK, come back, you don’t work today. Bae iumi no dae if we take a day of rest”. William’s work consists of preparing the feed for the pigs, i.e. mixing the ingredients, setting the amounts and monitoring the growth according to his plans. Another work he does is building stoves, which is something he learnt at school. His stoves work very well and costs one third of the stoves people can buy in Honiara. They prepare the cakes together, because it is a work that requires a lot of time, especially to shape them.

Childcare “Futsua blo pikinini blo mi hem lo hand blo mi” says William. He thinks that education is very important. His children must try to be successful in their education, in order to find a good and well-paid job. However, he does not neglect kastom. He thinks that kastom too is a good training for his children. Therefore kastom must be regarded as being as much important as education and work. In addition, he says that the fact of going to school is not the end of learning. “The training never ends.” Work is much more than the application of the skills one learnt at school. One should learn from life in itself, and find something one can do well. This is why William is also teaching some of his work skills to his children. He is also teaching them that money is different from food, and works according to different principles. In order to teach them how to use money, he pays them for the small tasks they do at home, like sweeping the floor.

Financial management Every day William and Angie pay the food for the morning and the evening. They do not eat at lunch. In case, they can have a little fruit snack from their garden. They spend SBD$100 of gas every week, and SBD$ 200 for 25 kg of flour to make the cakes. They pay electricity (SBD$ 50) every month. This year they have to pay the school fees for one of their children, who is now in Form 1. Two of the children go to the kindergarten, which costs SBD$ 180 a month each. Next year, they will have two children enrolled at the primary school. They have very little money, and many things to bear in mind, and they seldom have something to argue about. William says that he and his wife do not disagree about the use of money. When necessity arises, he just gives his wife some money and she knows what to do with it. She does not need to ask, or to justify, as she just uses it because they need to eat. William can give some money to his children, but they have to earn it. They can maybe help preparing the food, sweeping the house and other domestic tasks. They are not supposed to receive money for nothing.

316 “The most important thing in this house is that I have to make sure that we will have enough food to eat tomorrow. We must have a garden, and we must run a business if we do not have money. If we do not have money, we can survive, we have banana, pawpaw, cassava, we can still eat”. However, the problem is that the children are used to eating rice. William says that this is due to the fact that they have been brought up in town. So, “it is hard” for them to just eat fruits. At the moment William does not have a bank account. When he worked for the company, he had it. Now it has expired. Anyway, today he does not need it, because the only money he has is the money he spends every day to feed his family. He does not save any money. He says that in case any emergency arises, like a relative dies, the close relatives of him expect the other relatives to collect money and resources to organize the funeral. While he does not have savings, the many pigs he has are indeed a huge store of value. Indeed, his plan is to pay the school fees with the money earned from the sale of the piglets, and the pigs to be sold at the art festival. When I ask him what would he do with a little more money, William answers that he would like to build another house to rent, in order to have a source of income during his late life. In case that amount of money was very big, then he thinks that travelling would be a nice way to spend that money. However he says that he is satisfied with what he has, and that this kind of attitude is what makes his life good. However, he admits that life might be better with more money.

Informal external relationships William has a lot of brothers in Malaita. He sometimes sends them some money, and welcomes them in his house when they come to Honiara for whatever reason. As a form of reciprocation, when he goes home, his brothers fish and kill a pig for him. When he is ready to go back, they will prepare a bag of potatoes. Another thing that he regularly sends is rice, which is more expensive in Malaita than it is in Honiara, or a bag of cassava, which is softer and tastier in Gilbert Camp than in Malaita.

Formal external relationships He is not part of any group. He used to be an active member of the Burns Creek United Pentecostal Church. But then he left, because some of the members were against him for a land court case. So, he started to attend the Bible Way Center with his wife, who was already a member before.

Ideology For William and Angie, the most important value in their life is the training that everyone has to do in God, kastom and work. Work is essential because it allows them to improve their conditions, to have a house and to eat. Kastom is important because it trains the people to live in harmony and love inside the community. Christianity is important because it allows people to live in harmony without distinction of tribe or language. For these reasons, he raises his children kastom and Christianity. He teaches them in the traditional ways, i.e., he does not speak with Mamari’i and Elim Ala, leaving this to his wife. He only speaks with Darakona, teaching in the evening. He uses the formula ‘abu!’ in order to teach to the youngest of his kids. When Hilary will grow up, he says he will leave her to the teachings of his wife.

317 4. Oikali

Kinship diagram

Household map

318

319 History

Clement Clement grew up as a child in Buma, a village in West Kwara’ae. At the age of 15 he moved to Gwaunaoa. He attended the Gwaunaoa Primary School from Standard 1 to 6. Then, he was qualified to attend the Aligegeo Seconary School, which he attended from 1991 to 1993. He left the school in grade 6. In 1994 he came to Honiara, looking for a job, and initially worked as a bus conductor for 4 months. He was employed by Thompson, his louma’a, the husband of his sister Mesi, in the house of whom he was also living, in Gilbert Camp. Then, he found a position as Technical Assistant in the Honiara. The presence of his cousin in the company helped a great deal in making his application successful. He worked for this company from 1994 to 2000. Then he left because of the Ethnic Tensions. When he came back after the Tensions, much of what he had built in Gilbert Camp, in both material and symbolic terms, was destroyed. He was very discouraged. Betty and him got married with many uncertainties. While he was in Malaita to celebrate his marriage, the manager of the Honiara Refrigeration flew back to Australia because of the tensions. The people the man had appointed to the direction of the business proved to be unreliable and so he offered Clement the position of manager. So, all of a sudden, Clement found himself married and with a good job. But then, the work was very demanding. He had to work everyday from 8 a.m. to 9 p.m. In 2002 he resigned, because it was too demanding to take care of all the administration. He would have loved to continue with an assistant, but did not dare asking to his boss. “Hem should save.” He said that if the boss wanted to give him an assistant, he would have done so. From that experience he said he learnt that it is not good to work for someone. He wanted to be a free professional. So, he decided to do something personal. He thought to make money, and then he started to get more involved in the church. This second involvement actually took place because he loved to play football in the church tournaments. Thanks to his work in the church, he had the opportunity to go to do some pastoral training in Australia. Influenced by the discussions with Australian evangelical Christians, Clement started to work very hard: feeding chickens, and later feeding pigs. He also built the first store in that area of Gilbert Camp. Thanks to his numerous activities, he is today quite well off, although he dreams of becoming richer.

Betty Betty was born in Gilbert Camp, in the family of one of the early settlers, Jacob Lomani. After she failed in the primary school, she worked for a while in a second-hand shop. When she married Clement, she was 27. Today, she is a mother, a housewife, and works in their shop.

George George is Clement’s mother’s brother. He lives in Honiara since more than 40 years. When his wife died, he did not have anyone to do the housework, because his sons are already grown up. So, Clement understood the situation and decided to offer him a place in one of his houses. He accepted, and continues his urban life, working as night security guard.

320 David David Dau came to live within this household 4 years ago. He was living in Gilbert Camp since his childhood. Then he came back to Malaita during the Tensions. After the Tensions he came back to Gilbert Camp and lived with an ankol. Betty and his father are first cousins, so Betty calls him anti. However, she is not really familiar with David’s parents. David wanted to work, and found a job as a bus conductor. But then Clement invited him to work in the store, because he knew he was a good and honest boy. Some years ago, Clement’s brother needed some help with cutting and transporting the wood for a house, and David helped a lot. On that occasion, Clement could observe David and begun to trust him. They call each other ankol. The two have a very strong relationship. David does not do anything that might displease Clement. He sleeps in the storage room of the shop, which is also a security measure for the shop itself.

History of the household The house was built on land that Betty’s family claim to have bought from Guale people about 50 years ago, in exchange for food, pigs and tafuli’ae in 1962. The house of her relatives was removed during the Tensions, and Clement accessed the land because they did not want to come back. Clement came to live in the house and on the land of his wife, whereas, according to Kwara’ae kalsa, she should have moved to his place. He says that, as soon as the land will be registered, there will be no difference any more. This land, however, was not registered. There is no written document that proves that the land really belongs to Lomani’s descent, but only the material evidence that they lived there for the past 50 years. This is a common problem in Gilbert Camp, because the first settlers had an agreement with the Guale people, but the following generation was not necessarily in the same position. It is unclear if they are happy with the settlers or not. The understanding so far was with the landowners, and has now to pass to the ministry of land. As a consequence, it is not clear if building the house was a legal act or not. There is a committee formed of all the brothers and kasinbrata of Betty who are charged of the decisions related to their land. Nine people are currently living in this house: Clement Oikali, his wife Betty Lomani, their two sons Manaseh Junior and Joshua Oikali, their daughter Melisel, George and David. George lives by himself in a small house, but he eats with the rest of the family. Clements sees eating from the same kitchen as “living” in the same house. The household is formed by a single building made of timber and corrugated iron. The main room is used as sleeping and storage room, and it is comprised between the living room and the shop, which constitutes one third of the building. Clement, Betty, and the children all sleep in the same room. There is a kitchen in front of the door of the building, where no food is stored but only pots and utensils are kept. Behind the kitchen there is a toilet made with bamboo and cement. The people renting the house have a life of their own and do not really have many contacts with the Oikali. Clement likes to give them some food from time to time, and they also give him some food when they cook something yummy. However, the two families have very formal relations and do not mingle a lot. Clement has a space in the collective piggery fence. At the moment his brother takes care of his pigs in Malaita. Soon the pigs will be sent to Gilbert Camp where he will prepare them to be sold during the upcoming Festival of Pacific Arts.

321 History of the marriage Betty and Clement met in Gilbert Camp, where they were both living. He observed her for long time, and asked to his friends about her character. Once he was convinced, he found a way to advance his demand to her. He had observed her for long time, and verified that she was a hard working girl (she fed pigs, worked in the garden) and was of good character. They were from two different churches at that time (he was a from ACOM and she was from SSEC). However, they had opportunities to pray together during the Ecumenical services. He asked to the husband of Betty’s sister if he could ask Betty what she thought of him, and Betty answered positively. So, he then approached her directly and asked her friendship. Betty’s family, which was quite well off, had a telephone in the house, and so Clement started to call her from the public phones. He also sent letters, and sometimes they also dated in town or on the workplace. They decided to build a house before the marriage, and started to collect the contributions (without her parents being aware of their intentions). Clement wanted to build their house in Gilbert Camp, beside the house of a relative of him, one of his ankol. But then the tensions broke out. He had all the materials ready, so he decided to give everything to his brother Reubenson, back in Malaita, who built his own house in Gwaunaoa with it. During the tensions Clement went back in Gwaunaoa, while Betty remained in Gilbert Camp. But then, Clement’s father learnt about the relationship between him and Betty, and decided to ask her on his behalf to the father of the girl. Clement and Manasseh did not really discuss the matter. One day Dani, Clement’s older brother visited him and told him: “OK, on June 30 you are going to get married”. Everything was organized and paid by Clement’s brothers and other relatives. The marriage was celebrated in Malaita. No bride price was paid. Betty was given for free because of the beliefs of her father (SSEC). They only discussed about the food. They decided how many pigs they were able to afford, and then decided to exchange the same quantity of pigs. “Exchange of money, exchange of food, it speaks of a new relationship” says Clement. No relatives were asked to pay any debt to Clement, but because they were invited, some felt they had to pay. Indeed, even if there was no shell money, the pig made everyone think that it was an opportunity to clear their debts. “It is not a must, it is a responsibility”, says Clement, to pay one’s kaon. The marriage was celebrated in Kilusakwalo. A big feast was organized, where a lot of relatives from Betty’s side came. Twenty pigs were killed on her side. Then, after the celebration in Kilusakwalo, Clement brought Betty in Gwaunaoa, and they celebrated again with his side. Because she was given for free, Clement’s father did not demand much help to his relatives. As a consequence, there was no need to reciprocate with many pigs, and less than 10 were killed on that occasion.

Typical week Clement’s commitments during the week are very variable. His schedule is not fixed, but he is very dedicated and works always very hard, both in and outside his house. Normally, he wakes up at 4 a.m. to start baking the cakes for the people of the area. He has a lot of customers, and needs to bake a lot of cakes. In addition, ha also has the Anglican Norman Palmer School in front of his house/store, and the students come every day for the morning break to buy his cakes. On Sundays, he delivers the services at the local SSEC church.

322 When he has no commitments, he works in the store as storekeeper, although this is very seldom. Betty works mostly in the store, because this is compatible with the other commitments: taking care of the house, the children, etc. She also takes part in the preparation of the cakes, as well as the ice lollies, the bush lime juice, etc. They have a garden but they do not really take care of it, because they spend all their time running their business. Joshua and Junior attend the COC primary school. The family’s main expense is for food. Every day they have to buy all their food because they do not cultivate. Then, they also have to spend money on Electricity (SBD$ 100-150 a month) in order to run their store, which requires them to use transports, and to top-up the credit of their telephone.

Decision making Clement and Betty do not really live according to the traditional Kwara’ae kastom. The domestic division of labour is relatively equitable, and Clement often works much more than his wife. Concerning decision-making, they discuss as peers. This is also a result of the fact that “Betty comes from a very well-off family”. Because he often enjoyed a position of dependence, Clement always treated her with deep respect, since the beginning. Today, their positions are more equal, financially speaking, but the habit is still in place. Regarding decisions for the future, Clement would like to go back to Gwaunaoa. He is undecided because “mi no garem eni haus wea hemi nem blo mi”. So, he thinks that he should build a house before he goes back home. Secondly, he does not have a garden, and to make a garden it is necessary to work for a while before it starts to produce food.

Financial support of the family Clement works as a Senior Pastor in the local SSEC church. This position pays him SBD$700 in cash fortnightly. He is also the Assistant Chief Elder for the Honiara association, which is part of the SSEC, and earns SBD$600 per month. The store provides the family with a constant income of around SBD$500, including retailed products, cakes and the ice lollies. They buy most of their products from a Chinese wholesaler and sell dearer (SBD$1 or SBD$0.5 of makap). Other sources of money include the rent of one house and the selling of pigs, although the latter is yet to be done. They do not have overseas relatives and no one sends remittances to them. Clement kasinbrata’s son lives in Brisbane, but they do not stay in touch. As they are quite well off, they are seen as people who should help their relatives, rather than receive from them. Clement says that they help all the relatives who come to Honiara, even if sometimes this goes out of control, and they “become poor to feed their relatives”. Clement sometimes receives offers from the members of the SSEC. They want to reward his commitment as a pastor. They would say “Mifala laikem fo bless iu witim disfala slein”. This is not the tenth (or tithe). It is given to the pastor individually. The amount varies from $100 to $500. It is also considered as part of the support that a community of believers should give to their pastor, because, according to the SSEC regulations, a pastor should not run any business. But, because they see that in Solomon Islands this can cause more problems than it solves, the SSEC headquarter accepts exceptions to this rule.

323

Informal work and housework Betty works as a housewife (children, cooking), as a house manager, and in the shop. But she does not have any income. However, for Clement, whatever he earns belongs to all the family. And then, Clement takes part in many of the tasks of the housework, like cooking, and taking care of the children.

Childcare Clements wants his children to get a good education. In case he goes hom, they might stay with some relatives. He says: “Education hem key (…) education bae mekem gudfala citizen, en gudfala futsua fo pikinini.” Husband and wife agree about this. If the children will be good students, then they will get a good employment. However, in case they will not achieve any position, he says “I will bring them back and I will ‘use’ them in Malaita”. The important thing is work. He says that whatever your education, you can always find a job. “You can still use your small knowledge to create something”. He concretises his words every day, with new business ideas and a proactive attitude.

Financial management Clement administers the money of the family. So, Betty has to ask money to Clement on a regular basis. The reason for asking is usually related to the house, the children, and the business. As a consequence, there are no disagreements about the use of money. The only disagreements are about the way in which Clement invests, because he sometimes overlooks the needs of the house (including clothes for the kids). He justifies himself saying that he was brought up in a poor family, and feels like what he has today is far more than enough. “Sometimes we used to eat with our own hands. Sometimes we had our food into coconut shells” he likes to remember, in order to give an idea of the change. Sometimes Clement and Betty disagree about the importance of the clothes. She does not like ragged clothes for her children and for her husband. She tells him: “You wear the same clothes all the time! People will start to think: ‘Hey, this person does not have any clothes!’ ” “But that is good for me” he counters. “I do not want people to see me up there! I want them to see me down here.” And he concludes: “I think that even if I was rich I would live simple.” Another disagreement between Betty and Clement concerns the fact that he sometimes helped his brothers with money that were earned with the work of both of them. Although helping the husband’s brother is part of the duties of a household, Betty thinks that today everybody should work with their own money. In addition, she thinks that sometimes Clement is too generous with people outside of the household. For example, she complained also when Clement gave all the materials they bought to build their house to his brother Reubenson. Another example is when Clement was feeding 10 pigs for the Anglican church of Gwaunaoa. Betty was concerned for the many works and commitments he was having, and she was also a bit unhappy that her husband was working for free for someone else (ACOM). Clement has two bank accounts. One is with ANZ and is for the savings. The other is with the BSP, used for withdrawals. His saving are accumulated with the earnings from their store. He tries to put aside $100-$200 everyday, and at the end of the week they put

324 what they saved in the bank. These savings are also used to meet the unexpected expenses, like in case a relative may die. When the children go to school Clement or Betty gives them some money, $3-$5 to each child, in case they are hungry or thirsty at the 10 o’clock break. However, they always have their lunch at home. When I ask Clement what would he do with a lot of money, he answers that he would like to invest and make more money, like building one house in the town and rent it. When I ask him what would he do with a little bit more money, he answers that he would like to invest them to make improvements in the small business of the extended family, like shops, coconut oil production, pigs rearing, vanilla cultivation. At the moment, the most expensive object he has in his house is his laptop. It was given to him as a present by a group of evangelical Christians with whom Clement worked during his recent sojourn in Australia.

Informal external relationships Clement has a tight relationship with his brothers. They help each other for many things and in many ways. For example, Clement gave to Reubenson all the materials he had bought to build his house in Gilbert Camp, because when the Tensions erupted he preferred to give up his project and help his brother. Clement wanted to feed 10 pigs in Gwaunaoa, but Reubenson was busy helping Daniel, another brother, to build a house in Auki. So, he asked to the other brother, Joseph Atkin, to take care of the pigs. He accepted, and in exchange he asked him to take care of the education of his daughter Daina. This is a heavy burden, because Daina is now attending the university. So, she is also helping in the shop in order to contribute to Clement’s finances.

Formal external relationships Clement is a member of the SSEC, a condition that allowed him to be selected for a two- months trip to Australia that took place five years ago, during which he attended a pastoral training. He has some friends in Australia, as a result of this relationship, but he is never in contact with them.

Ideology “The most important thing inside my house is my culture. Mifala mas livim lo wei wea hem gud: kalsa blo mi. Mektu: mifala mas livim lo godly principles, bikos mifala Kristians.” These are the two principles on the basis of which Clement would like to raise his family. “Gudafala livin, auna mifala interpretim, lo context blo mifala blo Malaita, hem minim: hem man wea iu no anga, hem man wea iu save kain lo pipol, iu man wea iu save helpem pipol, iu man wea iu rispektim pipol, hem nomoa gudfala livim wea mifala laikem.” “The kalsa is: iumi shud garem rispekt fo each other. (...) If iu spoelem narawan, bae hem spoelem iu.” However, he also believes in a third principle. For him, a good life is a life dedicated to work, because it is only through work that one can afford a good living. When I ask him why does he like to make business, he answers that he wanted to move out from his condition of the past. In the recent past, when he was a young boy. “Bifo, even if mifala no garem slein, mifala stil sarvaiv, mifala garem naf food. Mifala garem staka samtin wea mifala save sarvaiv. Bata lo laif today, if you look, change lo wan is: kaleko, samfala kakae mifala nidim. So, taim tings hemi change, iumi change witim watna hem happen. Bata detwan should not tekem aot watnao laif wea iumi stap lo hem. Iumi shoud

325 stil stap lo hem. Taim bifo, mi no nidim pikinini blo mi fo go lo hai skul. Mi bae treinin fo mekem gaden, mi bae treinin fo ao fo fishin lo sea, or fishin lo riva. Hem na laif blo hem. Bata today, mi laikem pikinini blo mi fo go lo hai skul. Mi laikem elektricity. Bifo mi usim bambu fo light lo haus. So, you see, all these things hem mekem mi fo tinitin det, if mi no business, bae mi no garem all these things, pikinini bae no go lo hai skul (...) so mi mas business.” And he likes the idea of doing all this. The important thing is work. He says that whatever your education, you can always find a job. And if not, you can create one.

326

5. Olea

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Household map

327

Basic information

Info/Person Roswell Sylvester Jesse Cyril Irene Age 34 28 2 50+ 50+ Occupation Unempl Unempl Unempl Night Security Unempl Education Grade 6 Grade 6 None Grade 5 None Income Variable None None 1000/f None

Terms of address

Calls --> Roswell Cyril Irene Sylvester Jesse Roswell - Dadi Irene Sylvester Kokò Cyril Roswell - Irene Funga/ Sylester Jesse Irene Roswell Cyril - Funa/Sylvester Kokò Sylvester Roswell Fuonga - Jesse Jesse Dadi Kokò Kokò Mami -

History

Roswell Roswell came to Honiara when he was the same age as his son (2 years old). He came with his father Cyril, who was searching for a job, and with his siblings one girl and two boys. Roswell attended the primary school until grade 6. Then he stopped because the money of his father was not enough to pay his school fees. During the Tensions he came back to Malaita. After the Tensions, he came back to Gilbert Camp. Sometimes he goes to Malaita for the Christmas holidays. He stays in Honiara because “it is easy to make money”. He worked for a Chinese man until 1999. He says that the Chinese man was very bossy, demanding to do a lot of work, with very unpleasant manners. So, he started to think: “I must get out of these people”. He wanted to do things for himself, to be bosseleva, the boss of himself. He found inspiration for a change in his life attending the Kingdom Harvest church, where pastor Barko teaches Business Skills and the Gospel of Prosperity. Later, Roswell applied for a loan of SBD $10.000 to the National Provident Fund. With that, he started a piggery. Then, with the money he earned from the pig business, he started the store. Then the money grew, so he started to build another store. Then the money grew more, so he bought a car and employed his kasinbrata as taxi driver. Then he and his brother Lipson built a house and started to rent it. Today, as his money grows, he is looking

328 forward to “big things”, like buying a bus, a house for rent in town, and other things like that. “What I am doing, I am enjoying it.”

Sylvester Sylvester attended the primary school in Buma. She left the school at Grade 6 and started to look for a job. She went to live in Gilbert Camp, where her sister was already living since some time. She found a job as storekeeper, in town. Then, as soon as she married, she became a wife, a mother, and is now also a storekeeper in her husband’s store.

History of the household It is not easy to determine the boundaries of this household. The criteria used by the people living in it, and especially by Roswell, are again those of the kitchen and the food. Indeed, each house is also a storage place for the food of the people that are sleeping in it. Sylvester cooks in the same kitchen as Vero, but never at the same time. And they do not use the same utensils. There is even a small, thin wall between the two halves of the kitchen, to keep their things separate. So, I would have tended to say that the household comprises just Roswell, his wife and their son, but actually his father and his mother eat with them almost daily. Cyril eats also what his wife cooks, and often does not share with Roswell. He prefers to buy his own food and cook it, rather than counting on his son’s resources. But then, Sylvester has almost always something to eat for her parents-in-law. So, I decided to include Cyril and Irene as if they formed a single household with Roswell’s wife and son. I did not include the other people residing on Roswell’s land either because they live separate lives (like Vero, Roswell’s kasinsista, or the renting people) or because they do not eat regularly his food. The land on which all the 5 houses are built has been recently registered by Roswell under his name. The house where Cyril lives was the first one to be built, more than 40 years ago. Then, in 2009, Roswell built the house where he lives today, followed by his brother Patrick, who rents his house to Judah, and by Lipson, who is building his house neirby. Patrick, at the moment, sleeps in this house. The house where Alu and Jeannette live belongs to Roswell and Lipson. Alu is a good friend. They came to live here 6 years ago. They did not know Roswell before renting the house. When I ask him why he is important, Roswell answers “bikos hem stei lo hea, so mifala wangang nomoa. Sapos go lo taun, kam bek”. But today they live separate lives. Roswell shares the kitchen with Judah. Although they cook in the same kitchen, they use different food. Their respective foods are kept in their houses, and brought to the kitchen only when it is time to cook. Cyril shares the kitchen space with the second renters. Also in this case the food is kept in the house. “hom hem differen, lo hea mix kala. Lo hom o’ta stei lo village, o’ta relatif nomoa. Lo hea hem diferen pipol, so had fo iu fo putum kakae lo kitchen”.

History of the marriage Roswell met Sylvester in Gilbert Camp. She was living there with her sister since her youth. Roswell observed her for some time. Then he decided to approach her directly, without the intercession of anyone. One day, she was attending the mourning for Gordon’s mother, which took place in Gordon’s house, right beside that of Roswell. He approached her and asked her “if hem laikem mi”.

329 She said “yes”. So, Roswell told his father about the situation and Cyril took care to visit Sylvester’s parents. Her father demanded 6 tafuli’ae and 2000 dollars. Cyril’s father collected all the resources for the bride price. Roswell married Sylvester in November 2007. The marriage was celebrated in Buma, Sylvester’s place of origin. They married in the Anglican church, following the will of her father. Roswell was already attending the Kingdom Harvest Pentecostal church, but he had to respect the will of Sylvester’ father until she was ‘given to him’. A feast was organised in Buma, inside the church. Many relatives from both sides attended. Then, Sylvester’s parents came to Roswell’s house (contrarily to traditional Kwara’ae kalsa) to receive that bride price.

Typical week "Mi no doim enitin", says Roswell, which corresponds to a partial truth, because he stays at home the whole day, laying in his hammock, waiting for a customer to come to his shop. He only moves to the shop to sell something when the customers come. His pigs are taken care of by his brother Patrick, who, after feeding them in the early morning, lays on the hammock too for the rest of the day. At least once a week, Roswell has to go to town to buy wholesale products for his shop, “fo paem cargo lo stoa”. Sylvester takes care of washing clothes and dishes, taking care of the baby, swiping the floor/ground, cleaning the house, cooking, buying food, etc. She also works as a shopkeeper when Roswell is busy. The same is true for Irene. The only difference is that, being elderly, she works less and does not help in the store. Cyril passes his days chatting under the house that Lipson is building, chewing betel nut and smoking cigarettes. At 6 p.m., he goes to town, to start his job as Night Security. On Sundays, Roswell and Sylvester attend the Kingdom Harvest service. Cyril and Irene do not attend the Anglican one in Gilbert Camp, because someone must always be in the house. These are Roswell’s main expenses: he pays the bus fare when he goes to buy the wholesale products; every day he has to buy food, especially rice and kumara, because they do not cultivate a garden; he pays phone credit for his mobile, to call the taxi driver when he wants his car back; he pays electricity, which include the contributions from Gordon, from Roswell’s father, from Patrick, and from Judah, all connected to his service contract. Other expenses are the feed for the pigs (8 pigs), the petrol for the car and the products for the shop. He sold two pigs for Christmas, and plans to sell the rest at the Festival of Pacific Arts, from $1000 to $3000 per pig.

Decision making ‘The man is the boss, if the man decides to do in a way, so it is to be done” says Roswell. In Roswell’s house, “kalsa blo Malaita: man hem controllin family”. This means that Sylvester has to do what he says and/or what he expects her to do. In case she wants to buy something for herself, she must ask first. She does not have her own money. In case they disagree, he will not give her the money. “Sappos mi talem hem, hem no folom, bae mi disagri”. If for example Sylvester is late when she comes back from the water tap where she goes to wash the clothes, Roswell might be angry with her. However, he always says yes to his

330 wife’s demands to buy food. When it comes to clothes, he reserves the right to refuse to give anything. Roswell wants to stay in Honiara. He prefers Honiara “bikos hem easy fo faindim slein”, because more companies are present, whereas at hom the only feasible activity to generate some income is the sale of agricultural products. He wants to create the financial basis for a comfortable life for his child. “Olsem plan blo mi: mi laikem fo garem staka haus, staka property”. To realize this, he thinks that he will continue to attend the Kingdom Harvest service, because “hem all about mani”. If mani nomoa, den nomoa futsua tu. Bikos mani hem currency for move lo evriwea. So futsua blo mi, hem dipen olsem lo mani.”

Financial support of the family They do not have a garden at the moment because some wild pigs destroyed it. So, at the moment they only eat rice, kumara, cabbage and other things bought at the market. Roswell works in many activities: two rented houses, two stores, one taxi, and the piggery. He makes many plans to expand his range of entrepreneurial activities, with a continuous circle of saving and investment. Lipson administers the two shops, and they share the profits 50/50. The income generated with the shop is the ‘makap’, which is the price added to the cost of the wholesale products. “Wan dolar makap” is the norm. Each rented house provides $500 a month. The pigs, when ready, can be sold for $1000 to $3000. The store produces an income of $500 to $1000 per week. The taxi is not clear, also because they run it since a few months. I did not witness any giving between relatives. There seems to be no mutual support between them. Rather, every food is bought at Roswell’s shop, sometimes at credit. Roswell notes all kaon and waits for the payday of his father to be reimbursed. Roswell says that when he goes back to Malaita some people give some gifts in form of food for him and his family.

Informal work and housework Any work that provides money is considered important. Roswell does not see any difference among the many activities he runs. However, if I ask him which one would he leave, he says that the taxi is the one, because it always requires spare parts and expenses. Pigs and store are considered as the same, because they do not require almost any work. The pigs are fed in the morning and in the evening, and stay where they are for the rest of the day, fattening, i.e. increasing their value. The shop requires just a little bit of administration and physical presence. That is why Roswell considers it the best activity. Sometimes, Sylvester cooks for Cyril and Irene too. According to traditional Malaitan kastom, it is appropriate for a daughter-in-law to cook for her funga. However this does not happen every day, and Cyril does not consider this as being a matter of respect being questioned when she does not cook for him. He says that today it is hard to accumulate food, because food costs money. So, he prefers to buy his own food (mostly from Roswell’s shop) and let his wife cook it for him.

Childcare Because Roswell spends most of his day on the hammock, he has a lot of opportunities to take care of his child. However, it is Sylvester who washes Jesse, feeds him, and takes care of everything concerning his care. When Jesse will grow up, Roswell wants to enrol him in the best possible school. He does not want him to struggle during his education, as he says he did. He is deeply affected from his experience

331 of being a “failed child”, and even more by that of working for a greedy and bossy Chinese man. Roswell thinks that the future of his child depends on the availability of money. So, the most important thing that he wants to teach him is how to create money.

Financial management Some money is kept into the shop. “Had fo pipol fo kam stilim, bikos mi garem dogs, dogs blo Gordon”. The money of the rent is put in the bank. He has an SPB card. He does not like the card because he has to pay 10 dollars for each withdrawal. Other money is kept into the house to avoid taxation. He learnt this and all the other things he knows about money in the Kingdom Harvest ministry. He has his car insured. He has insurance also on the store, in case the store burns. He has some money saved for emergencies, like if a relative dies. With a little bit of money, he thinks he would do investments. With a lot of money, he would also do some investments.

Informal external relationships The only external relationship Roswell has is the one with the members of the Kingdom Harvest, the church that trained him and that he is now attending every Sunday.

Formal external relationships Roswell has no formal external relationships.

Ideology Roswell thinks that, in order to live a good life, it is necessary to have money. Money gives you freedom, because you are not forced to listen to the order of a bossy employer. Money gives you control of the situation, because “nobody controls me, I am in control of myself. I am only boss to myself. I do not depend on somebody else who talks to me and says ‘do this and that’. I do things by myself. If I want to work, I work, if I want to sleep, I sleep. I am boss of myself. Nobody controls me. So, to me, that is really exciting”. Since his experience in the Kingdom Harvest, “my mentality has been changing. My mentality, the way I think, the way I do things, has changed. So, from there, I began to do my own things. In 2000… then I start a piggery, then I built a store, then I run another store, then I built this house for rent, then I started this other house here, then I bought a car, then something like that. For me it is exciting, because I do things for myself. (...) You work, you get the money, and then you go on. So, the people in my church, their mentality is… Many streams of income. Do you know that one? Many streams of income: you run a store, you run a chicken, you run a pig, you run a car, you run a bus, you run a house, they call it the ‘many streams of income’”. While being so entrepreneurially oriented, he claims that his first value is God. The second, he says, is the family. Then, he says that the most important value of community is “the people”.

332 6. Tome

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333 Basic information

Info/Person David Rose Monesha Age 34 30 >1 Occupation Carpenter Unempl Unempl Education Form 1 Form 3 None Income $500/f None None

Terms of address

Calls --> David Rose Monesha David - Darlin/Mami Monesha/ Baby Rose Dadi - Monesha/ Baby Monesha * * -

History

David David was born in Malaita, son of a man from Kwara’ae and a woman from To’abaita. The couple came to live in Gilbert Camp when he was still a child, and this is the place where he grew up. He studied until Form1. He was expelled from the school because he and his friends cheated in the exam. However, he was given the chance to study Pastoral Studies and graduated last year. Recently, he went to the Western Province to work, with a one-year contract as a carpenter.

Rose Rose was born in Guadalcanal, in a village called Kompoga. She attended the primary and secondary school, but had to stop at Form 3. Her father died at that time, and it was too heavy a burden for her mother to pay the school fees for her and the other children. So, she moved to Honiara in order to attend some training in Oxfam and have more chances to get employed. She worked as Project Officer in the World Vision headquarter and then at the Ministry of Health. Rose was brought up in Anglicanism and did not switch to Pentecostalism when she married David. She chose the name of their first child, named after her Indian colleague at World Vision.

History of the marriage Rose and David met thanks to her boss at the Ministry of Health. Her boss knew David because they both attended the United Pentecostal Church in Gilbert Camp. The boss

334 suggested they meet and Rose one day came to the UPC service. They liked each other and decided to get engaged. After 7 years of “friendship” they married. They married in Honiara. The marriage was celebrated in the United Pentecostal church, and after the celebration the traditional bride price was paid to Rose’s family: 5 tafuli’ae and $5000. The traditional ceremony was held in her village in Guadalcanal, Kompoga. After the ceremony, David brought her in the house he just built for the occasion. They speak pidgin with each other, and with their daughter.

History of the household David built the house right before their marriage. The land is Temporary Occupied Land. They are going through the process of registration. The house is quite small, just enough to accommodate the couple and the baby. They have a small kitchen where they store and cook their food. They have a tank beside their house that collects rainwater that they use to cook and to wash dishes and clothes.

Typical week At the moment David in the Western Province and follows the work schedule of his work. When he was in Gilbert Camp, his main commitments were with the UPC, as he was unemployed. However, he seldom found some works as carpenter, included works in the church. He used to have a lot of free time, which he used to help his wife with housework, especially taking care of the baby. Rose wakes up at 3 o’clock every morning to prepare the cakes. Around four o’clock she goes back to sleep. At five, she bakes the cakes, so that they will be ready to be sold at the 10.30 school break. She comes back after that and takes care of the house and of her child. They have a garden, but it is rather “far away”. Actually, it is not farther than the gardens belonging to other people. In the past, she was used to have a garden close to her house. So, she never really got used to walking the distance, and David seems not to have to authority to tell her to go and take care of the tubers. Indeed, Rose is a Guale woman, and one of strong character, which means that she does not obey blindly to her husband. Their main expense would be food, because they do not cultivate their garden. However, because she has the above-mentioned arrangement with her relatives in Komponga, they do not need to buy most of their food. Another daily expense is telephone credit, which is important to stay in contact with David while he works in the Western Province. They do not need to pay electricity because they have a solar panel.

Decision making David takes decision “bata mitufala save serim bifo hem bikam decision”, says Rose. They have an efficient way of negotiating their decisions, and no arguments took place so far. They talk and express their visions, about advantages and disadvantages of possible alternatives. Then they take decisions on that basis. In case Rose disagrees with a decision that David takes, she can express her views, but she must also accept that David might try to impose his authority. However, it seems to me that she does not accept his decision in order to respect his authority, but rather to avoid wounding his self-esteem of Malaitan man.

335 Although she can dispose of the money she earns as she likes, her choice is to always negotiate decisions concerning that money and to share it if necessary. In relation to the issue of property of the money, she says: “Mi save raits blo mi”.

Financial support of the family At the moment, David is not contributing financially to the support of the family. He is not sending any money to his wife and daughter, because “the island where he is working is very isolate”. So, Rose is charged with all the expenses. However, she says that anyway she does not need much to live. Although Rose is not employed, she is busy in a number of income generating activities. She buys copra from her village of origin, and sells it. She bakes cakes and sells them during the morning break at the Norman Palmer School. In a ‘good’ day, she can earn as much as $450. Sometimes, she sells some of the food that she receives from her Guale relatives.

Informal work and housework David and Rose share their tasks in relative equity. David is actually the first man I saw washing his own clothes. He does so very close to his house, where no one (he hopes) will see him. He also swipes the floor inside the house. This is not considered as necessarily a female task, and sometimes he does it also outside. These are activities that also Rose carries out, in addition to cooking and washing dishes. She also helps with the carpentry works David sometime does to improve the conditions of their house. Again, Rose is the first woman I have seen doing this kind of jobs, which is considered as “had tumas, hevi tumas” by average Malaitan men.

Childcare They like to read stories to Monesha when it is time to sleep. They say that this is a way for them to teach her good things. Then, they teach her to prey, especially before going to sleep and eat. Although the child is still very young, David and Rose discuss very often about which church will she attend. Rose insists that she is to attend the Anglican church, whereas for David the issue is not so important. It seems that he is confident with the idea that, as soon as the child will grow up, she will chose what church to attend. They share the tasks related to childcare. David usually has the baby in his arms, cradles her, and stays at home with her while Rose does other things. Rose is mainly charged of feeding her, changing her clothes, and washing her.

Financial management Both Rose and David have a bank account. They decided to use Rose’s bank account to save the money they will need for the school fees, and David’s one for the daily expenses. However, this arrangement is changed now that David works in the western province. The money Rose earns with the sale of the cakes is her money, and she uses it as she likes. She uses half of that money to pay food for the household, and half of it in other ways. For example, she sends it to her relatives in Kompoga. Or she uses it to buy more ingredients. She says she learnt to do that in the capacity building courses. The people of her village of origin give her some free food when she meets them at the market (melon, cabbage, potato). They come to the market to sell their products, but because the land they cultivate belongs to her, she is allowed to take some free food. When she visits them, they have always some food for her to bring back to Gilbert Camp.

336 Informal external relationships Nancy Moale, the wife of the Pastor who served in the UPC until the beginning of this year, is a very good friend of David. She helped him in many situations, and also today she sometimes helps the couple with some money. She is almost a mother for him, but he prefers to use the term sista because they are members of the same church. The church is indeed the place where they met for the first time. Because Rose owns some of the land cultivated by her relatives, every time she meets a relative in town, she receives some food. It can be cabbage, or potatoes, but also fish.

Formal external relationships David does not have any formal affiliation. His being an adherent to the UPC does not imply any particular affiliation. Indeed, one can be a member of another church and yet join the UPC without being questioned for that. Rose is a member of an association of landowners of the Gold Ridge Mine. She considers this as being the most valuable “thing” she “has”.

Ideology David and Rose believe in improving their conditions with the work they are doing at the moment. They want to improve, and create a better life for their child, so that she will have access to good education and an easier life. Rose attends the services of the UPC, helps when help is needed and contributes to the finances with Sunday offerings. However, she considers herself as an Anglican, and continues to engage in the local Anglican church. If they had a little bit more money, they would like to close the registration process for their piece of land, and build another house. Hey would like to rent this house, in order to make a little bit more money. In this way, they think their life would be easier and more enjoyable. When I ask them what they would do with a lot of money, they say that they would make more investments.

337 7. Sinala

Kinship diagram

Household map

338 Basic information

Info\Person Stephen Grace Stephen Ronald Titus Geoffrey Luigia Leslie Age 38 28 15 11 8 6 3 26 Occupation Carpenter Unempl Student Student Student Unempl - Teacher Education Grade 6 None Form 1 Grade Grade None None Form 3 3 1 Income See See None None None None None $500 f below below

Terms of address

Calls --> Stephen Grace Stephen Ronald Titus Geoffrey Luigia Leslie Stephen - Gwaet Stephen Ronald Titus Geoff Luigia Leslie or or Son Grace Grace Gwaet or - Stephen Ronald Titus Geoff Luigia Leslie or Stephen Son Stephen Dadi Mami - Ronald Titus Geoff Luigia Lesi Ronald Dadi Mami Stephen - Titus Geoff Luigia Lesi Titus Dadi Mami Stephen Ronald - Geoff Luigia Lesi Geoffrey Dadi Mami Stephen Ronald Titus - Luigia Lesi Luigia Dadi Mami Stephen Ronald Titus Geoff - Lesi Leslie Stephen Grace Smol Smol Smol Smol Luigia - brata brata brata brata

History

Stephen Stephen was born in Kilusakwalo. He settled in Gilbert Camp in 1989, when he arrived in Honiara to look for a job. He initially settled in Kaibia, another Kwara’ae settlement (especially people from Kilusakwalo, like himself). He worked since then as a carpenter, now especially for the COC church, of which he is an active member. He settled in Gilbert Camp following his wife, who lived there before him.

339 Grace Grace was born in Gilbert Camp. Her father, John Sahu from Fiu, was one of the first men to settle here. He was working in the agricultural project in which many among the first settlers were involved. She did not attend any school, and always took part in the activities of her original household, just to move to another household when she married. She found a job in town as housemaid for some time. She is today a housewife and a mother.

Leslie Leslie was born in a village named Marakwai, close to Malu’u, in the north of Malaita. His mother is an Anglican woman from Lau, his father is a To’abaita from SSEC. His mother’s father was a pastor, and when this man moved to East Malaita to work (after having bought some land there) Leslie moved there too. There, he lived with Anglican Kwara’ae people and attended an Anglican Primary School. His parents divorced in 1989. At that point his father’s brother took him back to North Malaita, in Malu’u. He remained there for a while, until his father took him to Honiara. In Honiara, he stayed with his father’s sister in the Vura 3 ward. At that point he was a student at the Florence Young Secondary School (SSEC) and attended both the SSEC and the Anglican service. Then he came to Gilbert Camp and lived with one of his aunties, who is married to a Kwara’ae man. This is also the time in which he moved to the COC, invited by a friend of him. When his auntie’s family returned to Malaita, he did not have any other place to stay. Although he had a store and his own garden in Gilbert Camp, he never built a house. Pastor John Hugo of the COC decided that the boys of the church were welcome into the house beside the church. So, Leslie started to live in this house. Then, Hugo gave the house to Stephen, and Leslie built a lodge to sleep in (which he owns, close the COC church), but continued to eat in the same house. Leslie does not have any genealogical relation with Stephen or Grace. He is not even from their same linguistic area, although he will soon be married to a Kwara’ae woman. However, he is an important person in the church, as he is one of the church preacher and a teacher in the COC school. He is defined as a “Gospel friend” by the couple. They often address him as “son”.

History of the marriage Stephen met Grace because she was one of the acquaintances of the Kaibia settlement. He asked to one of his classificatory sisters to go to Grace’s place and ask what she thought of him. The woman said she was flattered by his interest, and happy to be his friend. So, he started to visit her in Gilbert Camp periodically, since 1996. In the same year, Stephen’s father visited Grace’s family, and her father demanded 5 tafuli’ae and $300. So, Stephen started to work hard to gain that amount and bought all the tafuli’ae in the central market. In 1996 it seems that a nine-feet tafuli’ae cost as little as $300. No relatives helped with the tafuli’ae collection. However, some helped with cash and food. Stephen was from SSEC church and Grace from Anglican church. Because Grace’s daddy was demanding bride price, Stephen had to pay it, even if he promised to the members of his church not to do that. Indeed, his family did not charge a bride price to those who demanded his sisters. He paid Grace 5 tafuli’ae and $300. Because of that, some people from his family (like Stephen’s mother) did not eat the pig that they received to make the feast, although some use to say “a marriage is not a marriage if you don’t eat pork”. However, the marriage was celebrated inside the SSEC church. The marriage was seen as completely Christian, as the bride price was paid only afterwards, far away from the

340 church context. Later, the union was celebrated with a feast. In this case it was a feast where parents from both sides participated, as opposed to the traditional Kwara’ae marriage where the two sides celebrated on their own. Many relatives attended the marriage, from Malaita as well as from Honiara.

History of the household The house was built by Pastor John Hugo, and used initially as the pastor’s residence. When the pastor moved out to build a larger house, the building was used as dormitory for some of the male staff of the COC church. Then, Pastor Hugo decided to let Stephen live there with his family, because he was the builder and carpenter for the COC church. All the boys moved out, but Leslie, who did not have a place to stay. During the tensions they did not leave, and Stephen even joined the security groups that patrolled Gilbert Camp. The name of his group was ‘Tiger’. “Mifala protectim taon nomoa”, he likes to say of his group. After the tensions, life was very hard. There was no food available, the stores were closed, and most families went home. Some never came back, like many “Big Men”, who were already quite old. The land on which the house was built is the same where the church buildings are, and it was registered after the Tensions. The house is composed of three main rooms and a storage room. One bedroom is for the four boys, the other for the parents and the little Luigia. The house is surrounded by trees like lemon, coconut, mango and startfruit trees. There is a toilet in the back, quite large and comfortable for the local standards. The kitchen is big enough to eat inside, which is also uncommon in Gilbert Camp, and rather the norm in Malaita. The generator produces energy in case electricity drops, and is connected to the church, the school, as well as to this house and to Leslie’s lodge.

Typical week Stephen and Grace wake up at 6 a.m., prepare some tea and start to do some housework. Then they send their children to school. Then either Stephen or Grace goes to the garden. Grace is responsible for buying food, like bread, rice, tinned tuna, noodle, cabbage. Stephen takes care of the pigs and the maintenance of the church buildings. Their commitments are very much regulated by the weekly calendar of the COC church. On Wednesdays they attend the evening fellowship, on Fridays they help with the organisation of the Youth night, on Saturdays they take part in the singing practice, and on Sundays they attend the service.

Decision making Stephen says he has the ‘upper hand’, as people commonly say. However, he does not feel comfortable in stating this confidently. His voice is uncertain and his eyes look down, as if he was ashamed of having a position of superiority. Indeed, he claims that he and his wife are equal, although his culture says differently. He claims that any decision is taken in conversation between him and his wife. I observed them negotiating the schedule of the day, and I would tend to say that the cultural element is still very strong. There is no need for Stephen to exercise his authority, because his wife seems to voluntarily submit herself to it. She accepts everything he says and agrees with his decisions without counter-claims or even contributions. She acts as if she believed that Stephen knows exactly what to do.

341 Financial support of the family The main support comes from Stephen’s income. Stephen is a carpenter for the COC church and school. Sometimes he works for other private clients. The income varies according to the quantity and entity of the work, which on average can make him earn $3000 per work. He also feeds pigs. Because pigs can be sold only every three or six months, this is a long-term periodical income. He has a house that he rents for $1000 a month. With his wife, he sells one hundred small bags of popcorn a-day, which makes him earn about $3000 a-month. In “good” months, he can earn as much as $10.000, although in ‘bad’ ones he can earn less than half of that. Grace prepares floral decorations, which are sold to the church or to other customers. Leslie works as a teacher in the COC School. He earns $500 fortnightly and contributes to the household economy with food (bags of rice, cabbage). The COC church pays electricity ($1000) for the house because the house and the church are connected to the same electrical source. The church also pays $30 a year to SIWA for the water. Three of his children do not pay the school fees, because they attend the school that he built and in which he still works. The church is really a part of the life of the Sinala. All work in it, and in exchange the church pays the bills and school fees. Stephen and Grace must pay the school fees only for the young Stephen, who is attending the Anglican Norman Palmer School, because he just entered secondary education. The COC school has only primary education, and as soon as their other children will grow up, school fees will become a major problem for them. However, the pastor is working to create a secondary school within the COC administration.

Informal work and housework Both Grace and Stephen are unemployed, and so both their income-generating activities can be considered as informal work. Stephen does not do much housework, apart from boiling water and sometimes going to the garden. Grace does everything, from digging out the tubers to peeling and cooking them. She prepares the food, serves it, and cleans the dishes afterwards. She washes the clothes of everybody and wipes the floor with a customary broom. She is also the only one taking care of the kids because Stephen is always very busy.

Childcare The children are brought up in the values of Christianity, by which Stephen means that they have to fully realize their potential as individuals. He thinks that they have to go through a good education and get a good job, earn a good amount of money and build a house in Honiara. Grace and Stephen do not have any disagreement about the way the children are to be brought up. They are both from Kwara’ae and thus the abu they teach are identical, and thus not a matter of disagreement. The same is true for the way they conceive of Christianity, as they are member of the same church, which is also the institution providing the education to three out of their four children.

Financial management Grace has a very limited amount of money, and so she must always ask money to her husband in order to buy the food and the clothes they all need.

342 Sometimes there are disagreements when the money is not enough to buy everything and different priorities have to be negotiated. Sometimes the husband and the wife do not have the same ideas about what should be prioritised. For example, Grace might want to buy some clothes, and Stephen might say that they already have enough, and insist that they buy pig feed or working tools for his work as carpenter. Stephen is responsible therefore for the management of the largest part of their money. It is thus up to him to decide what to do with it. When his wife needs money to do some shopping, he gives her some money. If he has no money, then she has to find some money by herself. Stephen gives some money to the children to pay for their lunch: $5, $2, or nothing, depending if he has money or not. If he does not give them any money, “bae o’ta cross lo mi”. He says that in this case they can eat some of the food of their friends, and I observed that this happens very easily. There is a small market in front the school (two tables), and when they have no money, they can just eat a cake and don’t pay for it. The women who sell the cakes are members of the church too, and are happy to give some free cakes if necessity arises. There seems to be no relationship of debt and credit between the people in the household and/or the church. Stephen does not have any book where expenses are recorded, indeed.

Informal external relationships Stephen can count on his brothers-in-law in case he is short of money. Allen and Sam, who live nearby, can always help him, as they are also entrepreneurial and active members of the community, with a couple of active business. Relatives come often to the house and give some cabbage, or other foods from the gardens. When I ask to one of the incoming relatives why does she give cabbage to Stephen, the answer is “bikos hem anti blo mi”. Many other relatives living in the area say the same. Stephen’s house is on the pathway that leads to some of the gardens. As a consequence, it is much probable that relatives of him have food with them when they pass in front of his house.

Formal external relationships He is an active member of the COC church, although like in most Pentecostal churches, affiliation is not formalized by official membership. His affiliation is rather explicit in the fact that he works for free for the church, and the church (in the person of Pastor John Hugo) pays his bills and school fees and sometime provides him with a bag of rice. They are not part of any political group, although during the tensions Stephen was part of the Malaitan Eagle Force group patrolling Gilbert Camp.

Ideology Family and church are the two things Stephen and Grace consider paramount to live a good life. They strongly believe that Christianity is the way for a family to be solid and healthy, and grow the children into a pathway of development and grace. Their attachment to family seems to be much more in the nuclear sense than in the exteded sense. Stephen and Grace insist that their most important relative is the pastor. They use the word “relative”, but they are not genealogically related to the pastor. John Hugo, apart from being their spiritual father, gives them some money, food, and provides the means for them to live in a rather easy life, compared to the standards of Gilbert Camp. When they address the pastor, they call him “Pastor”, although Stephen calls him by his name.

343 Stephen says that in case he had more money, he would like to build another house. He would like to rent it, so to make more money. This would make it easier to pay the school fees for those attending secondary education. He would like to live more easily, to have more things, clothes, and eat better food. His wife agrees, and says she would do the same. However, when asked about what they would do with a large amount of money, they say they would like to support the church with that money. They also would like to help the other families to which they are related, as well as the families who attend their same church. They strongly believe that the key for a healthy community is development, and money is considered as the main force to realize improvements into the community.

344 APPENDIX B – KINSHIP

Table 1 Kwara’ae consanguine terms of reference

N° Reference Gloss 1 Ma’a F 2 Te’a M 3 Aloko S 4 Difo D 5 Ko’o PaPa/ChCh 6 Ngwai MB/ZCh 7 A’ai FZ/BCh 8 Di’i XC/XC 9 Ngwai’futa B/B 10 Ngwaingwaena B/Z 11 Ai’kin Z/Z

Table 2 Kwara’ae consanguine kinship paradigm (Gender, Generation, and Symmetry)

Generation Fe/Male II X */m */f */m */f G+2/ m/* Ko’o/Ko’o G-2 f/* (PaPa/ChCh) Ma’a/(Aloko+Difo) Ngwai/Ngwai m/* G+1/ F/(S+D) MB/(ZCh) G-1 Tea’a/(Aloko+Difo) A’ai/A’ai f/* M/(S+D) FZ/(BCh) Ngwai’futa/ Ngwaingwaena/ m/* Ngwai’futa Ngwaingwaena G0/ B/B B/Z Di’i/Di’i G0 Ngwaingwaena/ (XCh/XCh) Ai’kin/Ai’kin f/* Ngwaingwaena Z/Z Z/B

345

Ko'o Ko'o Ko'o Ko'o

Ngw ai A'ai M'a Te'a Ma'a Te'a Ma'a Te'a Ngw ai A'ai

Di'i Di'i Ngw aingw aena Ngw ai’f uta Ngw ai’f uta Ngw aingw aena Di'i Di'i

Ngw aingw aena EGO Ngw ai’f uta

Ngw ai Ngw ai Aloko Dif o A'ai/ A'ai/ Ngw ai Ngw ai

Ko'o Ko'o Ko'o Ko'o

Figure 1 Kwara’ae consanguine kinship from the male point of view

346

Ko'o Ko'o Ko'o Ko'o

Ngw ai A'ai Ma'a Te'a Ma'a Te'a Ma'a Te'a Ngw ai A'ai

Di'i Di'i Ai'kin Ngw aingw aena Ngw aingw aena Ai'kin Di'i Di'i

Ai'kin EGO Ngw aingw aena

A'ai A'ai Aloko Dif o A'ai A'ai

Ko'o Ko'o Ko'o Ko'o

Figure 2 Kwara’ae consanguine kinship from the female point of view

347 Table 3 List of Kwara’ae affine kinship terms

N° Address Gloss 12 ‘Afe W 13 Ara’i H 14 Luma’a WB+ZH+ HB 15 Sai HZ+BW+WZ 16 Sata SbSpSb+ SpSbSp 17 Funga SpPa+ChSp

Table 4 Kwara’ae affine kinship paradigm

N° Term Sex Gloss Note Individualising 12/13 ‘Afe/Ara’i f/m W/H term WZ/ZH, Individualising 14/15 Sai/Luma’a f/m BW/HB term Individualising 14/14 Sai/Sai f/f HZ/BW term Individualising 15/15 Luma’a/Luma’a m/m WB/ZH term SbSpSb/SbSpSb 16/16 Sata/Sata */* Classificatory SpSbSp/SpSbSp 17/17 Funga/Funga */* SpPa/ChSp Classificatory

348

Sata

Funga Luma'a Funga Sai Funga Sata Funga Funga 'Afe Funga Dif o Funga

Funga Funga Funga Funga male point of view of point male Funga Aloko EGO Sata Sata Sata affine kinshipfrom the Sai Sata Ai'kin Ko'o Kwara’ae Funga Ko'o

Funga Ko'o igure3 F Aloko Ko'o Ngw ai’huot Ngw aingw aena Ngw ai Ko'o Funga Ko'o Sata Funga Ko'o Sata Sata Ngw ai Ko'o Sata Luma'a

349

Funga Funga Funga Funga

Funga EGO Dif o Sata Funga male point of view of point male Funga Funga Luma'a Funga Sai Funga Sata Funga Funga Aloko Ara'i Funga Funga affine kinshipfrom thefe Funga Funga Funga Ai'kin Kwara’ae Sata Funga

Sata Funga Luma'a igure4 Funga Sata F Sata Sata Sai Sata Ngw aingw aena

350

APPENDIX C – PRESCRIPTIONS

Table 1 Kwara’ae consanguine kinship terms and reciprocal behaviour

Reference Gender Address Behaviour Notes Ko’o/Ko’o Ko’o/Ko’o or Care from the */* Daily care (PaPa/ChCh) Koko/Koko others Ngwai/Ngwai or Ngwai/Ngwai Rights over m/* Ma’a/(Aloko- Daily help MB/(ZCh) property +Difo) A’ai/A’ai A’ai/A’ai or f/* Daily help Nurture FZ/(BCh) Te’a/(Aloko+Difo) Di’i/Di’I Di’i/Di’i or like B Potentially */* Equality (XSb/XSb) and Z (see below) marriageable Ngwaingwaena/ Ngwaingwaena m/f No address Avoidance Strict rules B/Z Ai’kin/Ai’kin f/f No address Equality Mutual help Z/Z Ngwai’huot/ Ngwai’huot m/m No address Equality Mutual help B/B

Table 2 Kwara’ae affine kinship terms and reciprocal behaviour

Reference Sex Address Behaviour Notes Sai/Sai Occasional Respect: between Funga f/f Sai/Sai (HZ/BW) help and Z Luma’a/Luma’a Occasional Respect: between Funga m/m Luma’a/Luma’a (WB/ZH) help and B Sata/Sata Occasional Respect: same as with (SbSpSb/SbSpSb) */* Sata/Sata help Funga (SpSbSp/SpSbSp) Funga/Funga Occasional */* Funga/Funga Strict rules (SpPa/ChSp) help

351

352 APPENDIX D – TRANSACTIONS

1. The Mothers Union gifts exchange

1.Transaction 18 couples of women from the Mothers Union exchanged with each other 18 pairs of gifts during the feast for the ending of the program. The total value of the gifts given was almost always equal to that of the gifts received, although the value of the pair varies from couple to couple. Details follow.

2. Background During one of the meeting of the Mothers Union of the Anglican church of Gilbert Camp, 36 women were coupled to perform a like-for-like gift exchange during the feast of the ending of the program, held beside the Christ The King church, in Gilbert Camp, on Saturday 12 November, 8p.m. The women decided the amount of the goods to be exchanged, which were to be equal, according to the possibilities of both the exchangers. During the event some dances were performed and some songs were sung. The Chairman of the church also gave a speech. Some women made jokes and threw some powder on each other. During discussions that I later had with them, they did not mention that they exchanged also some clothes. But I observed that they did. During a group interview I had with them, they only mentioned cups, dishes, trays and kitchen utensils. During the individual interviews too, they did not want to talk about the clothes. As they seemed quite reticent about this topic, even more than about the cost of the gifts, I did not ask further.

3. Relationships within the transaction The exchange of gifts was supposed to take place between two friends, sometimes referred to as “best friends”. This is the kind of relationship that is supposed to bond two persons who give a Sikret Fren to each other. Sikret Fren is the term used to refer to the exchanged gifts. However, it was clear from several elements in the interviews that the couples were formed randomly and that the gifts were not secret at all. The people of the family of each woman were implicitly included into the transaction, because the gifts exchanged were supposed to be used by the entire family. This obviously does not concern the clothes.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Hylda says: “We have to give because it’s the ending of the program, so we like to do it, because it is a Sikret Fren”. A Sikret Fren is the name given to a gift that is bought under the unconscious direction of a friend who, without knowing to be observed, expresses the desire to have something. When asked why they give a Sikret Fren, Dalila answers that “I give to help her family, because it is very hard for us, so I think about the family... When I do a Sikret Fren I give a present, so that the family has those kitchen utensils in the house”. Rhoda gives a more contextualized answer: “From December to January, towards the end of the year, money goes away too much. So on that day I can receive what I want”. Some did not participate, and one of those, by the name of Margaret, offers the following explanation: “Because some women do not have enough money to make the exchange. So I was said: ‘Oh, it’s ok, you do not have money, ok, next time.’ So I did not take part”.

353 5. Commentary on value and valuers About the value of the gifts, Rhoda comments: “It is the same because it depends on the money I have”. But sometimes this value is further discussed after the end of the transactions. Helen says, “I am meeting Daisy, because we agreed to spend $200 more, because we would like to have many things in the house”. She is admitting at least two utilitarian aims of the gift exchange: (1) the exchanged items were not sufficient, and (2) they need more things in the house. But, when she is asked why she does not simply buy what she needs instead of having it bought from Daisy, she answers: “Because it is a present. For Christmas”. Therefore, there is something more than the above-mentioned economic value of the purchases. When asked why she offers a Christmas gift with two months of advance, she answers: “Because there are a lot of ending school celebrations. I think Sunday School ends this Sunday. Fred (her son) will receive a gift”. As a consequence, I tend to think that the economic value of a purchase is conflated within the moral value of a Christmas gift in order to satisfy two, or more, needs with a single expenditure. During his speech, the Chairman praised the women for their exchange: “We appreciate their way of giving because it is more like a sister to sister relationship and whatever each of them can afford to give, that is given from the heart, and not forcing each to give something more than what the other could afford. So, that is why I said that we are happy with what the mothers here are doing, because it is a way that we, as Christians, we should exchange kinds of gift that each family would benefit from. Because gifts will involve plates, cups, bowls, whatever, and that is something that would go towards the families”. In the end, no one mentioned the clothes, although they were handed in front of everybody along with the other gifts, which were regularly talked about.

2. Confirmation and First Communion feast

1.Transactions Food is prepared by the Anglican families of Gilbert Camp with the help of relatives, also relatives from other churches, families and even other settlements, and given to the church in Gilbert Camp.

2. Background On November 19 the confirmation of 26 boys and girls in Gilbert Camp is celebrated. 26 children received their first communion: 13 boys and 12 girls. The archbishop came to hold the service. All the Anglican people in Gilbert Camp are participating, plus some people from other denominations (like people from the SSEC, AOG, COC). Pastor Clement represents these people from other churches and gives a speech on their behalf. Most of the people made gifts of food and money. This food is eaten during a refreshment that follows the confirmation and during a big feast that follows the first communion, on November 20. The church plays an important role in deciding who is to bring what, because the officials divide the territory in zones and decide which zone is required to bring what.

3. Relationships within the transaction The families of the 26 children and some of their relatives and friends from other families, churches and wards contributed to the feasts. Below are some examples:

354 The Kakadi household (Kwara’ae, Anglican) 3 tuna fishes (1 from a friend who fished it) + food from the garden + help (myself) + food + help (Brenda) + help (Charles, Ralph, Fred, Gordon, Helen) + money (Helen; 100$ by myself).

The Mae household (Kwara’ae, Anglican/AOG) Food from the garden + help (parents) + help (sista) + food (nara sista)

The Demerara household (Kwara’ae, Anglican/SSEC) They prepared food with relatives from Gilbert Camp and from outside Gilbert Camp. The people who helped are: Reubenson’s kasinsista (dota blo sista blo fata blo Reubenson), her sister, her anti (sista blo mami blo hem, from Veganverra) her father’s ankol and her father’s ankol’s wife. These last two also came from elsewhere, and stayed there for the weekend. Obviously, the people from the household gave some help. Reubenson for example went to the garden to get cassava.

The Oikali household (Kwara’ae, SSEC) Food from the garden, one 20 kg bag of rice, one bottle of orange cordial. No relatives helped.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction The reason all the interviewees give for giving food to the church is that they were asked by the church officials to contribute to the success of this very important day for the children of the community. However, the people from the other churches expressed also their interest in contributing to the ecumenical project of one Christianity for all Solomon Islanders.

5. Commentary on value and valuers The church officials underlined their commitment to split the contributions in equal shares so that each area of the community contributes equally in terms of the monetary value of the food given. Gordon said he was given a big tuna from a fisherman because, according to him, “we are brothers in Christ. But I suspect that he received the fish on the behalf of the church, rather than receiving it himself as a personal gift from his “brother in Christ”. It is possible that he told me he received it as a gift that he then passed onto the church just to show off. The impression I got is that the families of the 26 children contributed with a larger quantity of food than other families, though this data is to be confirmed by further observation.

3. Evangelical feast

1.Transaction $ 690 from various contributors to Clement (Ismael $ 150; Wendy $ 50; Messie $ 50; Meuriel $ 100; Joycelyn $ 50 ; Steve $ 100; Rodie $ 40; Willie $ 50; Tom $ 100).

355 2. Background During the last two months of the year several events take place and people move around the archipelago. Many go back to their home to visit parents during the Christmas, the students celebrate the end of their exams, the publication of the results, the new year, etc. For this reason, Clement felt the necessity to hold a feast where he would say goodbye and speak about how people should behave during that period, especially in relation to the ‘good’ way to celebrate.

3. Relationships within the transaction People from the SSEC contributed. They are related among each other, but these links are not particularly close. Some people called each other ankol, anti and kasin, but were never able to explain the exact genealogical link that connects them.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction The interviewees said they did nothing more than their contribution to a feast to which they intended to participate. They often put it in quite normative terms, as if the fact of contributing gave them the entitlement to have food during the meal. This rationale was also confirmed by Clement who, before the meal started, listed the persons who contributed, but not their contributions. Then, he listed the expenditures (fish, pineapple, cucumber, melon, shallot, oil, transports). He added he organized the feast in order to say goodbye to the SSEC adherent before the holidays and to give some recommendations for a safe trip and ‘good’ celebrations (no alcohol, no excesses).

5. Commentary on value and valuers Not everyone who attended the feast contributed, and Clement marked the difference between contributors and non-contributors quite clearly during his two speeches given during the feast. In a first speech he listed the people who contributed. In so doing, he qualified the mentioned people as those who were rightfully granted access to the food, explicitly underlying that all the others corresponded to the opposite of such description. However, everybody was allowed to eat. In the second speech, he gave his recommendations for the coming period of holidays. He stigmatized those who spend money on cigarettes, alcohol and betel nut, as opposed to those who give their money to their families and try to make savings for the school fees.

4. The tafuli’ae compensation

1.Transaction This transaction did not take place, but generated much discussion. So, I report it anyway, for the sake of thinking about what it might have meant. Gordon said he will give 1 tafuli’ae to me in case his son does not pay back his debt. The transaction does not take place, but the explicit intension speaks of the values of the head of the household.

2. Background Leonard, Gordon’s son, asked me to lend him SBD $400, because after the new year he and his girlfriend were left with too little money. So, in order to have enough money to get to the next payday, they needed that amount. I was happy to help them, and even though there was no need to give the money back, Leonard insisted that it was just a borrowing for

356 one week. Actually, he did not ask me directly, but asked his mother, who then asked Gordon, who then asked me. After one week there was no notice of Leonard, and he did not establish any contact with us for almost one month. Both Gordon and Helen tried to contact him, but his mobile phone was either off or unanswered. Feeling responsible for the unpaid debt, the two decided to compensate me. So, Gordon told his son Charles, who was coming back from Malaita after the Christmas break, to bring back one of the tafuli’ae that are kept safe in his (classificatory) mother’s house. When the second payday arrived without news from Leonard, Gordon decided to go to the bank where his son’s girlfriend withdraws her wage. He waited there until the couple came. Later that day, Leonard came to Gilbert Camp, Gordon gave the SBD $400 back to him and ordered him to pay his debt to me.

3. Relationships within the transaction

Gordon - Helen The two spend relatively little time together, and the few times I saw them together they stayed silent and didn’t interact explicitly. However, they are always together during the important events that I witnessed so far. One imbalance in their relationship is the division of labour: Helen works two or three times more than Gordon.

Gordon - Leonard Gordon almost disinherited Leonard when Leonard went to live with a Choiseul woman who teaches in the western side of Guadalcanal. The reasons are that she is older than him, she has a job and he has not, and because she fell pregnant before their marriage, which is still to be celebrated. In addition, he is very disappointed and frustrated because Leonard does not seem to be willing to improve his situation. His first child is about to be born and, instead of looking for a job he does nothing but drinking beer and going around. However, Gordon still helps him.

Helen - Leonard Helen looks less crossed with Leonard than her husband, even if she shares all his preoccupations and resentments. It is difficult to know what she thinks, as she is very shy and reserved. From her behaviour it seems that she supports Leonard. This is why she interceded for him with his father (see above).

Gordon - Rodolfo Our relationship is one of respect and mutual help. The initial misunderstandings and difficulties helped us to understand that, although our actions were not always understood or successful, our intentions are “good”. As a consequence, we know we can rely on each other: I rely on him to carry my research out (accommodation, information, affection) and he relies on me for food supply, material help, and monetary contributions to the household economy. Beside the transactional side of the matter, I feel like he feels affection for me as much as I feel it for him.

357 Helen - Rodolfo Helen is very shy and reserved and it is very difficult to say what she really thinks. However, from her actions I would tend to say that she sees me as a classificatory son, because she does for me the same things that she does for her children. She prepares and serves me food every evening, she washes my clothes, she collects rainwater for me, and a lot of other actions that I was always told that “good” mothers do. I am very grateful for this and very affectionate to her, and I would be happy to help her with everything she might need. But I seldom have any opportunity to do so.

Leonard - Rodolfo I am a little embarrassed with him, because I would like to tell him off for all the problems he is causing to himself and his family, but I do not do it because I feel that my position in the family does not allow me to step in. The only possibility I was given was to help him financially. It is not clear to me if Leonard sees me as a mere source of income or as a good friend. He also looks embarrassed when he speaks to me, so I would not take his “my brother” as the mirror of his true feelings towards me.

3b. Transactions within transactions The tafuli’ae that Gordon wanted to give me was received from Celes’ husband at the time he bought her from Gordon. The other tafuli’ae were already given to the rest of Gordon’s brothers.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Gordon insisted that he and his wife were responsible for the actions of Leonard. He said that it is a custom for his people to compensate with a tafuli’ae the people that their sons might have offended. In case the debt was not paid, the tafuli’ae was also intended to compensate me for the loss of my money. However, that tafuli’ae is worth today $700, much more than the amount due.

5. Commentary on value and valuers In saying what mentioned above, Gordon meant that Leonard lacked respect in my regards because he did not keep his word and did not bother to give me notice of his intention to pay back his debt. This means that giving one’s word is seen as a strong commitment, that can be subject to renegotiations, but requires ultimately to be respected. It follows that, for Gordon, truth and promise are two important values in themselves. When I tried to convince Gordon that I could not accept the shell money, he said “I am a man of my kastom” and that because I am not in Italy I have to respect Kwara’ae kastom. In saying that he meant that I was not expected to interfere with his way of managing the situation, which was seen as in conformity with the traditional Kwara’ae norms. This means that, in his vision, the people from another culture who come to stay in Solomon Islands should give priority to the imperatives of the local culture, rather than their own culture. Gordon opposed my claim that the whole matter was just a problem that I had with Leonard, and not with the family. He countered my argument insisting that in Solomon Islands there is not such a thing as a ‘personal problem’. He meant that the collective unit (being the family, the clan, the tribe) is expected not only to support a member to do ‘good’, but also to be charged when he does ‘bad’.

358 5. Leonard and Rodolfo

1.Transaction Leonard asks me to pay for the necessaries for his first child that will soon be born and I accept.

2. Background Immediately after having paid his debt to me, Leonard told me he decided to call his first child after me. He said that this was a reward for me, in exchange for the money I was agreeing to spend to buy the necessaries to welcome his child. The day after we went to do some shopping together and we agreed that, in case they will have a daughter, she will be called after my sister.

3. Relationships within the transaction Being asked more help immediately after the resolution of what could have become a serious problem between me and the Kakadis, did not put me at ease with Leonard. This made it even more difficult for me to believe him when he was calling me “my brother”. He insisted a lot with that “my brother”. But this did not persuade me that he really thinks about me as a fictive brother, also because he looked quite drunk.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Because I am offered to have a child named after me I am expected to pay for the necessaries to welcome that child. It should be noted that this is not the usual practice that is commonly practiced among the Kwara’ae people. Indeed, one usually offers to pay for the baby list before to be awarded the honour to have a child named after him. Another reason that was given is that the couple has only 200 dollars and cannot afford to buy items on the list without the help of someone.

5. Commentary on value and valuers Leonard repeatedly called me “my brother”, “my older brother” and even clearly spelled that I am “the first son of my father and my mother, then I come after you, then Jacob comes after me”. As I wrote above, it is unlikely that his words reflect his feelings. However, it is true that all the other members of the family were there and did not counter not corrected his words. And it makes sense, because, if we are to listen to Leonard, i.e. if it is true that I was seen as an older brother, I was at the top of the list of the people expected to help him. Gordon was sitting to my right, on the same side of the kitchen where I was sitting, whereas Leonard was sitting on the other side of the kitchen with his mother to his right and his girlfriend’s brother to his left. I do not claim that this was done purposefully. It might be the case. But it is true that this composition mirrored the attitudes of the present people towards Leonard and me. The fact that Leonard modified a traditional practice speaks of his despair. He did not know how to find the money he needed and he decided to use the only resource left to him: his culture. Traditionally, a relative would offer his help following the acknowledgement of a need, and he would then be granted the honour to have a child named after him. This speaks of the culture of giving, as much as of that of receiving and reciprocating with the purpose of honouring.

359 Leonard did the opposite, he offered the name and then asked for a contribution. In this way he is valuing my money as more important than the norms, and at least sufficient to buy the honour of having a child named after me. On the contrary, the traditional culture would suggest rewarding not the magnitude of value, but the willingness, the initiative and the goodness that is showed by the one who stands up and offers. But I did not offer, I was made an offer even before knowing that he was going to be a father. In doing so, he breached some cultural norms, as it was clear from the way Gordon and Helen looked at him. They were almost completely silent and stared at the ground. Leonard was asking what he needed directly, a practice that is strongly discouraged in the Kwara’ae domestic moral economy. Indeed, when someone needs help, he should simply describe his situation, and it is up to the listeners to step in and offer their help and their contributions.

6. Selling candies to your grandchild

1.Transaction Richard sells a candy to his grandchild for 1$.

2. Background Richard is the older male member of a household of Pentecostal Kwara’ae people. Among the several income-generating activities they have, they also run a shop. While I was collecting Richard’s genealogy, sitting in his shop, a child came over and bought a candy. “That’s Calvin, the one we just mentioned” said Richard when the child ran away with his sweet. I was rather surprised that he just sold something to a relative, and so I asked him to tell me more about that transaction.

3. Relationships within the transaction Richard is Calvin’s paternal grandfather. He loves his grandchildren, but he is probably too old and exhausted to express it with physical affection.

3b. Transactions within transactions Richard bought the candies from a Chinese distributor and is selling them as a retailer, applying a charge on each of them that is sold. The money that he receives from Calvin was given to the child by his father, Leonard, Richard’s son, who in turn is part of the family business.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Richard says that Calvin is a relative, and that it is a rule of their shop to never accept kaon (credit) from their relatives. So, this is why Calvin has to pay for his candy.

5. Commentary on value and valuers The value of the business is the one that emerges as the highest priority in this transaction. It emerges strikingly, as opposed to the economic value of the candy and the moral value of the relationship. Even if the price of the candy is so cheap and the relation so close, the sake of the business is considered as more important. And this was recognized by the child too, who came, bought and ran away without any discussion as if this was a very normal practice.

360 In addition, Richard described relatives as a real threat to their business. If he allowed their relatives to buy things and pay later, he says that his business will soon go bankrupt. He says that relatives do not realize the hardship of business management, and therefore ask too easily. So, without even realizing it, they are draining (haospaep) the resources that the family needs to continue to survive. In this sense, he is also acknowledging the dependency of the family from the market, which drains resources as well. But, as far as the business is concerned, they prefer to be dependent on the market rather than their relatives.

7. Salary children

1.Transaction William gives $1 to Hilary.

2. Background While I was interviewing William, the little Hillary, who is about 5 years old, was doing her best to sweep the floor with a customary broom made of cane strings tied together. When she finished, she went to have a rest on her father’s legs. At that point he handed her a $1 coin.

3. Relationships within the transaction William loves his children and does his best to educate them. He teaches them traditional norms and behaviour rules as much as working skills and financial strategies, and Christianity of course.

3b. Transactions within transactions William says “the money I earn is already engaged”. With this he means that the fact of having to work in order to buy the food to survive puts him in a relation of constant dependency from the market. Because of this relation of dependency he does not feel entirely free to give to his children, and feel he has to demand some work in exchange. In this sense, the money he gives to his children is obtained through an exchange with labour operated in the market place, which he looks at as a unitary entity that entertains a relation with him.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction He can give some money to his children, but they have to earn it. They can maybe help preparing the food, sweeping the house and other domestic tasks. They are not supposed to receive money for nothing.

5. Commentary on value and valuers The value of work is what emerges most clearly from William’s interview. He says that the fact of going to school does not necessarily put an end to the training process. One who fails in school will not necessarily fail in life. Work is much more important than school, he says. This valuation reflects his experience, which is that of a man who did not go far with his studies but who, with his skills as farmer, builder, and mechanic, managed to make a living for himself and his family.

361 The value of money emerges in numerous facets. Firstly, money is seen as something that has to be earned and should not be given for free. Giving money for free corresponds to suggesting to the children that this is the way in which “real life” works. In this sense, the value of money is seen as radically opposed to the value of those items that are traditionally exchanged in the Kwara’ae domestic moral economy, like food, utensils, clothes, etc. However, it should be noted that sometimes William gives money to his relatives (not his children) for free. And he says that when he does so, this is done in the perspective of the traditional relations of exchange, i.e. he expects them to reciprocate one day, in case he will be in need. So, on the one hand the value of money modifies traditional relations, on the other hand traditional relations modify the value of money. Secondly, the value of money is pictured as emerging from a relation of debt with the market. While William works to make a living, he is not able to save any money, as all he earns is spent on the day to survive. In this sense, because he constantly needs to ask the market for food, goods, and services, his money is already engaged as soon as he earns it. He speaks of this as a sort of perpetual debt that he will never be free to repay entirely. Indeed, his plans are to continue to work hard for the coming years, even if his hair is already white and he is about 65 years old.

8. Taking mangoes without notice

1.Transaction Anna takes a bag of mangoes (unspecified quantity).

2. Background Anna came to Gordon’s house and noticed a bag of mangoes. She took it with her. Two days later, she was passing in front of Gordon’s house again and sought the opportunity to let him know that she took the bag. Indeed, Gordon was wondering where that bag was.

3. Relationships within the transaction Anna is married to Gordon’s wife’s faest kasin on her mother’s side. Gordon and Helen do not really know her very well, but they know who she is genealogically and this is enough to motivate a feeling of obligation.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction She took those mangoes because she needed them, and they were not kept in the house.

5. Commentary on value and valuers Commenting on the fact of taking the mangoes without previous notice, Gordon specifies that “If they know they have a relationship with me, they can come and take. But if it is anyone who does not have a relationship with me, then it is difficult that they come in our house”. In commenting about the closeness of Anna to him and Helen, Gordon said that “Unless is someone with a close relationship, they know my house, they can come back and say: oh, I took some mangoes”. So, Anna, being an in-law, was expected to feel free to come and take. But, at the same time, she was not close enough, relationally, to feel free not to give notice, at least afterwards.

362 9. Giving mangoes to those who like them

1.Transaction Helen gives a bag of mangoes to Anna.

2. Background A couple of days after Anna came to the house of the Kakadi to let them know that she took their mangoes, she passed by again, heading towards her work place. Helen had prepared another bag of mangoes for her, knowing that sooner or later she would meet Anna or see her passing by. When Anna passed, Helen called her and handed the bag of mangoes.

3. Relationships within the transaction As above, Anna is married to Gordon’s wife’s faest kasin on her mother’s side. Gordon and Helen do not really know her very well, but they know who she is genealogically and this is enough to motivate a feeling of obligation.

3b. Transactions within transactions N/A

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Helen says that, because a lot of mangoes fell from the trees, then they had too many, that even their children could not eat them all. So, she thought that she might give some to Anna. In addition, Helen knows that Anna does not have mangoes because not many mango trees grow on the side of Gilbert Camp where she lives. Because Anna came and took some mangoes previously, then Helen thought that she might be in need of mangoes. Therefore, she prepared a bag of mangoes, and as soon as the woman passed in front of their house she called her and handed it to her. Anna is a sister in-law, which means that she is someone towards whom respect is to be shown. This is particularly true concerning visits, and when in-law are close to the house.

5. Commentary on value and valuers Gordon makes jokes, and says that because of those mangoes he might ask Anna to name her next child after him. “According to our culture, if they think about me, they can name that child after me. But saying: oh, I gave you some mangoes, you name that child after me, no. This is not a family. It depends on them, if they say, ok, we will name this child after Gordon. But, I just wanted to tell her: when you deliver that baby, then name him after me”.

10. A pipe not so wanted

1.Transaction Gordon receives a pipe from Texas.

2. Background After the death of the late Sara (Gordon’s wife’s father’s sister’s) Gordon is attending the mourning with all the other relatives in Sara’s house. Texas (Sara’s daughter’s husband) offers a pipe to Gordon, who accepts it.

363 3. Relationships within the transaction Texas is married with a woman whose mother is the sister of the father of Gordon’s wife. As a consequence, he is an in-law, i.e. someone who has to be deeply respected by Gordon, and from whom Gordon expects an equal degree of respect. The two spent quite a big deal of time together during the mourning days, and looked very keen on each other.

3b. Transactions within transactions Texas just bought three pipes and gave one to Gordon.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Gordon says that it was a form of respect towards him, because he was visiting the house of his in-laws and he was not supposed to leave barehanded.

5. Commentary on value and valuers Gordon comments negatively about the pipe. He says that he does not see the point of giving a pipe to him, as he does not smoke the pipe. He says he keeps it only because he plans to give it to one of the old men who live in his village, as soon as he comes hom to visit his family. In saying this, he is putting the use value of the object above the moral value of the relationship, or maybe he is just underlining that, while the moral value of the relationship is important, one should also look at the utilitarian side of the matter before to make a present. His comments are ambiguous.

11. Melisel loves pineapples

1.Transaction Daina gives one pineapple to Melisel.

2. Background Daina has just come back from her holiday in Malaita. She visits the house of Pr. Clement and brings one pineapple for Melisel.

3. Relationships within the transaction According to Kwara’ae terminology, Daina and Melisel are sisters (ei’kin). Classificatory sisters are supposed to take care of each other as much as any primary relative is. This is what I witnessed: Daina spent the whole day with the little Melisel, hugging her, playing and cleaning her nose.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Daina does not seem to have a lot to say about the reasons for this giving. She insists that it is not a gift, but just a very normal act that stems from the fact that they are sisters.

5. Commentary on value and valuers Daina says that she knows that Melisel loves pineapple and she bought it to make her happy. In this sense, giving a pineapple is seen as a good act towards Melisel because it is done with considerations for her individual preferences and tastes. It is particularly interesting that Daina does not want the pineapple to be seen as a gift. A gift is seen as appropriate during some specific occasions and events that require the

364 contributions of relatives. In this sense, gifts are seen as part of a larger, in both time and space, network of transactions that constitute an important aspect of Kwara’ae sociality. In contrast, that pineapple is rather seen as the materialization of affection and love within a more exclusive relationship. However, it is common among the Kwara’ae, that people do not really use words to express affection, or physical actions, but rather acts of giving, like the one described here.

12. Giving rubbish

1.Transaction Gordon gives a bucket of garbage to Mark.

2. Background Last year, Mark started to collect the leftovers of the Kakadi household when Gordon proposed him to do so.

3. Relationships within the transaction It is not clear whether Mark is a distant relative or a very good old friend of Gordon, or both. He comes from Koa, whereas Gordon comes from Fiu. So, either the kinship is fictive or very distant. They met in Gilbert Camp and spent some time having fun together, playing football. But then, they had separate lives, as Mark was attending the Pentecostal church.

3b. Transactions within transactions The leftovers are a product of the waste of the entire family, myself included. We all throw away a little bit of food when we have our meals. However, the largest part is composed by the remains of the cooking, which are disposed of by Helen. The second largest amount of waste is produced by the three brothers, Jacob, Charles and Freddy. It seems that they are also those who will benefit the most if the plan of their father is realized (garbage--> Piglets--> Pigs-->Tafuli’ae).

4. Rationales offered for the transaction It is a kastom to collect the leftovers of relatives for the pigs. It is done with the understanding that, when the pigs that will deliver, one of the piglets will be given in exchange.

5. Commentary on value and valuers A piglet is considered by Gordon to be the appropriate thing to be given in exchange for more than one year of buckets of garbage. Giving anything else would not be good, because it is a piglet that should be given in this case. Other things like pork, and other foods are appropriate in other occasions. So, Gordon is pretty sure that Mark will give him a piglet, when the swine will deliver, in one-month time. In this sense, he has an expectation when he gives each bucket of garbage. “We two are old best friends” Gordon says to describe his relationship with Mark. They met in Gilbert Camp many years ago, and they had fun together playing football. Gordon emphasizes that it is a holy thing to do something with food leftovers, instead of throwing them away. “It is not good for me to throw the food away. So I told him: ‘This

365 is why it is very important that you [Mark] come and take this food away’. That’s why he comes and take those leftovers: because food is very important, and it is blessed. So, when you cook too much food and you throw it away, I think that God does not like that, that people throw food away”. In addition, he underlines that there are some very important practical advantages in this exchange. “Pig, in our kastom, is very important (...) because when you feed the pig and it grows up, you can give it in exchange for two shell money, or maybe three, depending on the size of the pig. That’s why people feed pigs. Because, like, I had a lot of boys, so I need to feed many pigs. So, when the people come and ask for a pig, then I can say: ok, just give me two red money, or maybe one red money, something like that”.

13. Wilfred receives old wood for a new business

1.Transaction The United Pentecostal Church gives the wood of an old rotting house to Wilfred.

2. Background One of the small houses of the Youth ministry of the United Pentecostal Church in Kobito (right beside Gilbert Camp) has been dismantled. Most of its wood was rotting. Wilfred is the Youth responsible of the church, and a powerful preacher in it. The leaders of the church decided to offer him the good timber that remains.

3. Relationships within the transaction Wilfred puts a lot of efforts in his ministry and the pastor of the UPC recognizes this.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction The church decided to pull the small house down and build a new lodge for the boys. Wilfred accepted to help, because he would like to use the good wood to build a small store on the land of his wife.

5. Commentary on value and valuers Wilfred does not really say that the church is doing something good or charitable with him. He says that the leaders wanted the small house removed and that he could do it for them and keep the wood for himself. He acknowledges then that they are doing an exchange, and does not look particularly grateful.

14. Shoes to a fraternal cousin

1.Transaction Ralph gives a pair of shoes to Kaspar.

2. Background Kaspar is about to leave to Honiara, where he will play football. Before to go to the wharf, he visits Ralph and asks for a pair of shoes. Ralph has an old pair of shoes and is happy to give it to him.

366 3. Relationships within the transaction The genealogical relation between the two is not clear. Ralph and Kaspar give contradictory accounts of their relationship, and call each other alternatively brata, kasin, and ankol. They gave me an account of the genealogical relation, but I consider it as merely indicative.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Ralph gave the shoes to Kaspar “bikos hem laikem tumas shu”, because he really wanted them. Unlikely the food that is a necessary daily thing, other more specific and exceptional items can be requested openly. This is particularly true when it comes to borrowings. In a context where shoes, backpacks, DVD readers, can be impossible for the high expenditure of money they require, borrowing takes place easily for temporary use value.

5. Commentary on value and valuers Ralph says that he gives things to Kaspar “fo sowim laf”, to show love. When I ask him why does he show love to Kaspar, he answers rather clearly that he does so “bikos hem brata blo mi”, because he is his brother. Again, I suppose that for Ralph the meaning of the word brother is clear, while the way he uses it is rather subjective and prone to temporary decisions and valuations. When I ask him what is the meaning of brother, he answer rather correctly that “iu wetem mi bon lo wan mami”, we are brother when we are born from the same mother. Then, he adds “so mi bon lo nara dadi, hem bon lo nara dadi, so hem brata blo mi”, which means more or less “Kaspar and I were born by two different fathers, so we are brothers”. He is probably hinting at the merging practice. So, to recapitulate, in this case it is possible to observe the flexible character of kinship relations in the domestic moral economy, as well as the importance of love as the basis of these relationships and the importance of mutual help in a poor context.

15. Caroline and Robert’s Pre-Wedding feast

1.Transactions About 20 related persons gave a total amount of SB $300 to Caroline and Robert. Both guests and the hosts prepared food.

2. Background On Tuesday 2 November 2011 at 8 p.m. relatives of two families gathered in a household to celebrate the consent given by the parents of the spouses. Robert and Caroline were announced to be about to marry. Relatives of both sides gathered to spend time together, and to hand a gift of money to the spouses. During the feast, Robert and Caroline, as well as other people, gave a speech.

3. Relationships within the transaction There was only one relative on Robert’s side, which was his ankol, actually a cousin of his mother with an unclear distance from her. On Caroline’s side, there were two mother’s sisters, one mother’s brother, two brothers, one sister, the spouses and the children of some of them, and some other guests like myself and other friends. It is not possible to reconstruct the amounts given by each individual or household.

367 4. Rationales offered for the transaction The interviewed guests spoke of the transaction as a small gift, intended to help the to-be spouses to cover some of the expenses related to the preparation of the wedding. Some relatives underlined that the “real” contributions were still to be given, and mentioned the bride price. However, Caroline is not going to be given in exchange for a bride price, for she is a member of the SDA church, which condemns that practice. Though being relatives of the bride’s side, some said that they will feel compelled to contribute more when the wedding will take place, probably sometimes next year. Concerning the food, the simple reason given for it being offered was that everyone brings something so that everyone can have a complete meal.

5. Commentary on value and valuers Gordon, the husband of Caroline’s mother’s sister, says: “We come here to have a small feast with that girl that will be married with the man from Isabel. So we come here to stay with her, to have some tea, or coffee and the food that was prepared. Then we sit down, and if we want to go back, we go back, if we want to stay up until morning, no problem, you can stay here until morning”. When asked about the importance of relatives, all the interviewees answered that all the relatives are important to the same extent. Even if this answer can be regarded as a formula of politeness, it is true that the exact contribution of each relative was not specified during the speeches, nor during individual conversations I was able to observe or to have. However, it was also often admitted that Caroline’s parents and Robert’s parents were the most important relatives, although they were absent and did not take part in the contribution for the gift given that night.

16. The ghost

1.Transaction Gordon removed a gold watch that was left on a tomb.

2. Background After the burial of Helen’s anti, I walked around the cemetery to observe the features of the graveyard and take some pictures. In doing so, I found a female gold watch left on a tomb. I was having a look at it when Gordon approached. So, I shared some comments with him about how could that watch be there. He suggested that, maybe, some of the ‘drunken pipol’ who, to his knowledge, spend their nights drinking in Kola Ridge cemetery, sitting on the graves, might have forgotten it when they left. I was rather persuaded that it was left by someone who loved the person that was resting into that tomb, but who, maybe, did not come early enough to put it into the coffin with the body. So, I put the watch back where I found it. At that point, Gordon took it, looked at it for a moment with a rather uninterested gaze, and then put it around his waist. Later that day, Gordon received three phone calls. The first call came at 11 p.m. The voice of a mature woman said (in Pidgin): “Bring back my gold watch”. Then Gordon replied: “Who are you?”. But she insisted “You took my gold watch from my house!” So, Gordon asked again: “What is your name?” And she: “Noo. Bring back my watch now”. And Gordon: “Not at all, your watch is with me”. At that point the voice announced: “Ok, then I’ll come”, and the call dropped. Gordon went back to bed and tried to sleep. But half an hour later the phone rang again. Gordon answered and the female voice said: “I am

368 here, now, in your kitchen. Come outside, bring me my watch”. “Ok, wait” was Gordon’s reply, but before he could go out to look into the kitchen, the connection dropped again. At midnight, the phone rang for the third time. This time the voice said “I am in front of your house”. Gordon opened the door, sit on a bench that is in front of the kitchen, lighted a cigarette and started to chew some betel nut, while still holding the phone. “Where are you?” he asked. “Right now I am in the kitchen, and I am watching you. You are smoking, and chewing betel nut” the voice described. Then Gordon challenged the interlocutor: “Ok, I am here, just come!” But she insisted: “Noo! You come! Give me my watch back!” They continued to argue for a while, until Gordon started to think that “maybe some of my sisters in-law are trying to make a fool of me... Or not?” So, they continued to discuss, until the call dropped for the last time. Gordon tried to call back the number a couple of times, but no one answered. He then called Texas (who is married with a paternal first cousin of Gordon’s wife, see above), and asked if anyone in their house had that number. But no one had it among those relatives of him living in the NaJacki area. He posed the same question to Carol (who is a maternal first cousin of Gordon’s wife). But also among the relatives living in the White River area no one had that number. Gordon is still perplexed, also because he would like to know “who gave her my number???” The day after I found out that Gordon put the watch around a small bottle filled with oil, on which it is marked Holy Oil. I thought that it was remarkable that Gordon had suspects for his in-laws. I later found out that his suspects were based on an antecedent that I could not observe directly. When he took the watch from the tomb, Texas saw him. He then asked him if he wanted to give him the watch, but Gordon said he wanted to keep it. After a couple of days, Gordon called the number again, this time from another mobile phone. Texas answered. They laughed, and Gordon jokingly demanded a compensation, for his in-laws tried ‘to make a fool’ of him.

3. Relationships within the transaction There was no relationship between Gordon and the person buried in the tomb, also because the tomb had no inscription, so it was not possible to know who was buried in it. However, as soon as the watch was taken, Gordon entered the sphere of negative reciprocity of the original owner. Regarding Texas, for the following reasons, Gordon is not particularly at ease with him. Texas seems to behave in ways that are not particularly appropriate according to Kwara’ae culture. He offered a pipe to Gordon, who does not really need it, as he does not smoke pipe, and he asked for the watch, which puts him in the uncomfortable situation of having to refuse.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Gordon said that he took it because “somebody might have taken it”.

5. Commentary on value and valuers It was remarkable that Gordon had suspects for his in-laws, because the Kwara’ae culture prescribes that between in-laws there should be a relation of respect and avoidance, even if that does not exclude the possibility of jokes and puns that do not exceed a limit that is tacitly agreed upon.

369 Even if his suspects were suggested from Texas’ explicit interest for the watch, Gordon called also other in-laws. This means that it was reasonable for him to expect a joke by their part. Gordon makes it really clear that he does not intend to sell the watch. He says that he rather wants to give it to someone. A girl has recently come to live in our house. She is an adopted daughter of one of Gordon’s classificatory sisters. He said he might give the watch to her as a welcome present. By saying all this, he is valuing his relatives more than a possible monetary gain, which is conforming to the prescriptions of Kwara’ae culture. When a person comes to live in the house, or leaves, it is always a “good” thing to welcome and to farewell that person with a gift of an appropriate value. The fact that Gordon took the watch from the tomb is obviously very important. The respect that is to be paid to dead people and the fear that the idea of their ghosts provokes should prevent everyone from removing anything from a tomb. Arguably, fear and respect are not felt towards an anonymous dead person buried in the alienated land of the Kola Ridge Cemetery. Or at least they are not felt as strongly as to prevent the removal of a gold watch, which is of course a very valuable thing in economic terms. However, the watch constituted not only a benefit, but also a threat, because it is a call for the evil forces, which were felt by Gordon. He was not able to sleep, as he was chased by his feelings and the fear of punishment. If we could interpret these fears as a result of his feelings of guiltiness, then we would be able to assess the value he gives to his action as at least inappropriate according to the norms he would normally follow. However, he insists that it was a good action to remove the watch because “it is better is his hands than in someone else’s”.

17. If David cannot go to his family…

1.Transaction Some of the people living in the Ogamauri household give rice, chicken and fish to David Elison Suri.

2. Background David Elison Suri is a student at the Selwin College of High Education, in West Guadalcanal. His mother and father live in Gilbert Camp with Geoffrey, who married his sister Rose. They decided to visit David because he could not leave the school over the Easter period, due to his commitments. So, they prepared some food and brought it with them as they travelled towards the Selwin College. They had the food on the seashores and came back on the same day.

3. Relationships within the transaction David Elison is very much loved by his father and mother, who see him as a good boy and dedicated student. They were missing him a lot, and really wanted to see him some time over Easter. Geoffrey regretted that he did not have time to see his brother-in-law David Elison, as much as his wife Rose was sad for not seeing her brother for long time.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Bethry says that “Because I have not seen my boy for long time, then I miss him. So, I bring some food because I want us to be a family”. This is why she and her husband took

370 care of cooking the food before they left. It is not simply a matter of giving gifts, but also and especially of eating the food together. “If it is my mother who prepares the food, then when I receive it, I see my mother in it. So I am happy”, admits David.

5. Commentary on value and valuers Geoffrey says that David is like a brother for him, and that it is his duty to organize a trip to visit him. Indeed, it is a common understanding the brothers-in-law are very close to each other. The family also left some raw food to David. The raw food was intended as a gift, whereas the cooked one was to be eaten on the spot. While some people emphasized more the value of raw gift-food and others the cooked food, all agreed that it is important to bring something, and never go barehanded.

18. Bread for the kids

1.Transaction Clement receives four loafs of bread, a packet of sugar and two tins of luncheon meat from his mother-in-law.

2. Background Clement came to Malaita to spend Christmas with his family. His wife Betty did not come, in order to take care of the shop they run in front of their house in Honiara. Their youngest daughter stayed with her. When her mother is about to come to Malaita too, she gives her three loafs of bread, a packet of sugar and two tins of luncheon meat. Before to leave, the woman also buys one loaf of bread to contribute to the gift, and goes on board. Once in Malaita, Clement goes to welcome her at the warf and to collect the gifts.

3. Relationships within the transaction Clement, his wife Betty, his mother in-law, and the kids.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Clement distinguishes: “Well, there are two things: I am happy to receive these bread from my wife, with a packet of sugar and two luncheon meat. And then, I received also from my mother-in-law, she can think also of her two grani, Joshua and Junior. So, she gives it as a gift to them, so to tell them: ‘this is from your grandmother’. It brings a close relationship, and also for them to know that: ‘oh, we have one grandmother, yeah, she thinks of us’. Things like that.”

5. Commentary on value and valuers Among the Kwara’ae, the relationship with the in-law is one of respect and reverence. When a person passes in the proximities of his/her in-laws, some food must be ready to be handed as a sign of such respect. Clement and his wife’s mother call each other “tambu”, which refers to the Kwara’ae term abu, which indicates that something or someone is to be treated with respect. Clement admits he is “happy, very happy, because my wife got the concern for us. She might send some more food, because she was thinking of Junior and Joshua at home: ‘they need some bread’. So, she can send some food for us”.

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19. Pineapples for the wife

1.Transaction Clement sends four pineapples, some taro, some fish, and lobsters to his wife with the ship from Auki to Honiara.

2. Background Clement went to Malaita to spend the holidays with two of his children, whereas Betty and the youngest daughter remained in Honiara. Clement hired a couple of divers to catch some fish to complement the Christmas dinner. The day after the big catch, Clement goes to the wharf of Auki to ship part of the catch to Honiara, plus pineapples and taro, where Betty will collect the box.

3. Relationships within the transaction Clement and Betty are married.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Clement explains that he sends these foods: “Because I see this (the catching of fish) as something special, so I have to send this to my wife and my daughter. I want to share with us too. Because we hire those people to dive for us, I feel like: oh, we spent money for this and we had enough fish, enough lobster, so I have to give something to my wife and my kid. I also want them to be happy. They must have that sense of feeling that: ‘oh, my husband, my two kids, even my in-laws and my father-in-law, they think of us, that is why they send this food to us’. It builds the relationship, it builds the closeness”.

5. Commentary on value and valuers Clements says he sees the catch of fish as ‘something special’. He means that it is something for which, virtually, the money of the entire family was spent, and so, all the family should benefit from the catch.

20. Pineapples for the wife (from Betty’s point of view)

1.Transaction Betty receives four pineapples, some taro from the market, some fish and lobster sent with the ship by her husband.

2. Background Clement went to Malaita to spend the holidays with two of his children, whereas Betty and the youngest daughter remained in Honiara. Betty is pregnant and takes care of the shop. Clement hired a couple of divers to catch some fish to complement the Christmas dinners. The day after the big catch, Clement goes to the wharf of Auki to ship part of the catch to Honiara, where Betty collects it.

372 3. Relationships within the transaction Clement and Betty are husband and wife. They have three children and they are expecting another child. They are also business partners, as some of Clement’s activities are ran on the land that they inherited by Betty’s parents. They administer a shop together and they prepare donuts together. They love each other in the decent and detached way that is considerate appropriate in Kwara’ae culture.

3b. Transactions within transactions To make up the full amount of goods that were shipped to Honiara, Clement used the fish that was fished by the divers he hired in Malaita over the Christmas period. It follows that the fish was from all the family. The pineapples were bought at the market, like the rest of the foods.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Betty said she was very happy to receive the foods. She was happy to see that her husband was thinking of her and their daughter.

5. Commentary on value and valuers She said that Clement is a good father because of this action. Also the little Melisel was very happy to see that daddy was thinking of her. On the contrary, Betty says that it was sad to be away from the rest of the family over the Christmas period.

21. A contended bag of potatoes

1.Transaction Celes fails to bring one bag of potatoes to the market of Auki where I was to collect it and take it with me to Gilbert Camp, and give it to Gordon.

2. Background Gordon asked since long to time to his daughter Celes to find a way to send a bag of potatoes to him. She lives in Malaita, not far from Auki, with her husband Robert. Because I was going to take a ship from Auki to Honiara, he told her to bring the bag to me on the day on my departure. She prepared everything, arranged the transport and dug the potatoes. But then, on the early morning her husband forbade her to bring the potatoes to the wharf, for a reason that I was not able to verify.

3. Relationships within the transaction Gordon’s relationship with his daughter is complicated by a past deed. She refused to listen to his advices when she fell in love with her present husband. She was very young at the time, just 15, and now she is regretting her choice. Her husband is violent, and treats her badly. But Gordon says it is his right to do so, and that he cannot do anything about it. He would be able to take his daughter back only if her husband lacked respect in his regard, like swearing at him. But if that does not happen, nothing can be done. As a consequence, Gordon hates that man, and is crossed with his daughter because he thinks she was a fool to insist to marry that man.

373 4. Rationales offered for the transaction Gordon asked for those potatoes, just as a matter of getting some benefits from a hom garden. In addition, he says that he thinks those potatoes of her daughter are very “suìt”. While he means that they are good to eat, I suppose that eating food from a daughter with whom he has a difficult relationship would ‘sweeten’ his feeling towards her.

5. Commentary on value and valuers Gordon says that his son in law is “a bastard” and that he will “kill him”. When Celes called at the phone to tell him that she could not bring the potatoes to the wharf, she was in tears. Then Gordon spoke with her husband and told him “you don’t want to send me those potatoes? Fine, then eat them all!”

22. Tubers for a controversial relative

1.Transaction Silas gives me some bambutaro to bring to Gordon. Rose gives me some potatoes, also for him. I give these foods to him.

2. Background During the night I spent in Auki, in Silas and Rose’s house, Gordon called me on the mobile phone. He was very drunk, and was not really able to speak understandably. My hosts and I have just had a conversation about the fact that it is feature of Anglican clergy to get drunk one day and to go preach the day after, something that Pentecostals see as very contradictory. We could all hear Gordon’s voice through the speaker of the mobile. Rose, who has a difficult relationship with her brother, teased him, saying he looked a bit drunk. Gordon heard, and replied, with a very drunken voice, that he was not drunk at all. The people in the room started to laugh, but tried to maintain a respectful demeanour. Indeed, Gordon was a louma’a for Silas, and no one in the house wanted to put his father in the difficult position of having to apologize for their behaviour. But then Gordon insisted, in an even more drunken tone, that it was impossible the he was drunk, because we are in the Holy Week. At that point Silas was not able to keep his mouth shut and started to laugh like a crazy, followed by the laughs of his children, his wife, and mine. The situation was not exhilarating for the simple fact of Gordon denying the evidence, but also because this situation epitomized the discussion we just had about the behaviour of Anglican clergymen. In the following days, Silas get organized to send Gordon some bambutaro (taro cooked inside a section of a bamboo cane). As I was traveling to Gilbert Camp, he gave it to me.

3. Relationships within the transaction Rose does not like her brother. She says he is a drunkard and a lazy man. In addition, she says that he is a selfish person. When she was young, indeed, he did not provide anything for her. He insisted for her to leave the school, so that the family would have someone more to work in the house. So, she was not educated and had to work since her early years. Then, when she got married, he made a lot of troubles. He did not want to let her go, and did not helped the newlywed in the transition, meaning the he and his brothers did not pay her any clothes, linens, foods, or things when she got married. She said she felt really ashamed because of this situation. Today, she feels very resentful for the behaviour of her

374 brother, and told me that if they want to start a relationship again, he has to apologize before. But this has not happened yet. Indeed, Gordon avoids their house and does not have contacts with his sister. They happened to be in contact only because he called me while I was in their house. The relationship between Gordon and Silas is the one between two louma’a, i.e. two brothers-in-law. A very close relationship bounds a man and his louma’a. A man likes to look at his louma’a just as he looks at his brothers. He is considered as a valued member of the family, and he has to be treated accordingly. A man does not expect anything from his louma’a, just like with his real brother. But then, a louma’a must always step in if the necessity arises. However, he is in a sense more than a brother, because he comes from the family of the wife, and is the son of the founga’a (parents-in-law). So, he is not only intimate as a brother, but respected as a father. In the case between Gordon and Silas, this is complicated by the fact that Silas sees Gordon as lacking some of the features that he considers as necessary conditions of respect (he drinks, smokes, chews betel nut, does not work hard, was not a goof bother for his sister, and his church is misleading). The relationship between Gordon and me is one of esteem and affection. I am happy to see him again after some weeks spent in Malaita. In addition, I learnt that buying food when coming back from a trip to hom is a way to show that our relatives are important and respected, and so I want him, as well as the rest of the family, to feel that. So, I contribute with some taro.

3b. Transactions within transactions The bambutaro was given to me from Rose, who added to potatoes. I also added some taro.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Silas told me that “our friend Gordon” is to be “looked after”, and that his gift of bambutaro is a way to make him feel part of his family. He added that he felt a bit uncomfortable about laughing at him when he was drunk on the phone. Although it happened in that indirect way, he felt that somehow he lacked respect in his regard. As a consequence, he had to make it clear that he respects his louma’a, according to the kastom. His gift is not really compensation, but has some elements of it in the intentions of the giver. Because of Silas’ initiative, Rose decided to go beyond her resentment and for that time being the one who re-opens the transactions between the two ngwaingwaena (siblings). When I asked her about the contradiction between her gift and her precedent declaration of being unwilling to transact with him, she said that forgiveness and patience are two important elements of Christian thinking. However, I believe that she also did it because of a general Kwara’ae prescription to give and be generous at any time. As I wrote above, I added my part just as a way to behave as a “good” member of a network of transactions of food, things and care.

5. Commentary on value and valuers Rose and Silas are important members of the COC church, a Pentecostal church in both Gilbert Camp and Auki. They consider alcohol, cigarettes, betel nut, and inactivity as sins against the will of God. As a consequence, they see Gordon as an unholy man. They also see Gordon as a selfish man, because he did not contribute with anything to his sister’s marriage. He was indeed customarily expected to do so.

375 For the above reasons, they feel they do not want to have a relationship with him. Indeed, Gordon never speaks directly with them, but communicates only with Caroline, their daughter, his ankol. However, they decided to give something, because for them generosity, customary respect for relatives, and Christian forgiveness are more important than resentment and punishment for wrongdoings.

23. Easter bamboos

1.Transaction Margaret gives 10 bamboos of pudding to Stephen.

2. Background During a visit of a couple of days over Easter, Margaret brought some pudding (ara) to the family of her sister’s husband’s brother, Stephen. Stephen welcomed his brother’s son, Atkin, when the boy was sent to come to Honiara to wakabaot. Indeed, no one could pay his school fees in Malaita, and it seemed more reasonable that he tried to find a job until the money will be enough to pay the school fees next year. The pudding was prepared by Atkin’s family, in Gwaunaoa, west Kwara’ae and given to Margaret so that she can bring it with her on the ship. Margaret spent some days in Stephen’s house, and some of the puddings where given to neighbours and relatives in Gilbert Camp. When Margaret was about to go hom, she was handed some bread, rice and sugar by Stephen, who also paid her return ticket.

3. Relationships within the transaction Margaret is a very dedicated auntie, and she loves Atkin very much. Her relationship with Stephen is also good, as much as Stephen’s relationship with her and with his brother Derek. Stephen is happy to help Derek and his son Atkin, and hopes that the boy will soon find a job. They had a joyful Easter together, and missed their relatives at hom very much.

3b. Transactions within transactions The work necessary to produce the pudding was provided by the entire household of Atkin’s family. Indeed, the counter-gift of rice, sugar, bread and money will be distributed among all of them. The same was true for the 10 bamboos of pudding, which were distributed among the members of Stephen’s household as well as among relatives and neighbours living in Gilbert Camp.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Atkin was happy when the food was handed. He says that the reason is that the food prepared at hom is very good. Atkin supposes that the reason why his father and mother prepared the food that Margaret brought is that they wanted to reciprocate the kindness that Stephen demonstrated in accommodating their son. If I ask him if there is any other reason, he says that there is not.

5. Commentary on value and valuers Another reason given to explain the rationale for the transaction is that the products which are easily available in Malaita are scarce in Honiara and, vice versa, the commodities that are commonly circulating in Honiara are rare in Malaita (especially money). The kind of

376 exchange that takes place between relatives is also intended to solve this problem, very much like in the historical relation between Malaitan bush people and saltwater people.

24. Another Easter bamboo

1.Transaction William and Isaiah give a bag of rice to John. John gives some bamboos of pudding to them, to be given to Ismael.

2. Background William and Isaiah went to Malaita over Easter. Although their family lives there, they normally reside in Gilbert Camp with Ismael, their father’s brother, because they attend their school in Honiara. Ismael gave them two bags of rice, each to be given to John, William’s father, and to Cysil, Isaiah’s father. William and Isaiah spent Easter in Malaita, and when they came back they were given some bambutaro from John and Cysil, which was to be given to Ismael.

3. Relationships within the transaction William, Isaiah and John Mark are very grateful to their father’s brother Ismael, because he accommodates them in his house while they are pursuing their education in Honiara. And so are their fathers, John and Cysil. Ismael, is also very affectionate to his brothers, and is happy to help them with his residence in Honiara and with a bag of rice. He would have loved to go hom too, but there was not enough money and he also had his job to go to.

3b. Transactions within transactions N/A

4. Rationales offered for the transaction John sent the pudding by way of appreciation for the rice received and, especially, to thank his brother for taking care of his son, John Mark. Isaiah, who said that his father was grateful for the help provided by Ismael, expressed the same rationale. Ismael says “If you need anything from hom, I will bring it to you. If you need anything from Honiara, I will bring it to you. If any of our wantok needs something, I can give it to someone who is moving back and forth. It’s just normal”.

5. Commentary on value and valuers John Mark is “proud” because his father sent some food, as their culture prescribes. He is also happy, because he feels that his father is thinking of him, and taking care of the relationship that John Mark entertains with Ismael. Ismael says that ‘this is our culture, and we have to follow it’.

25. Another rush, another bamboo

1.Transaction Jacob gives some bread and butter to Rose, and Rose gives him somebambutaro. Jacob gives some money to Celes and she gives him a bag of potatoes. Jacob gives the potatoes and the bambutaro to Gordon, plus a bag of betel nut.

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2. Background Jacob went to Malaita over the Easter weekend. He could not stay more than three days, because he had to get back to work. He nevertheless did his best to get in touch with as many relatives as possible. He met Rose and Celes at the Auki market, and staid at his auntie’s house. When he met Rose, he gave her 3 loafs of bread and some butter that he bought in Honiara. Later, he met his sister and handed her some money. Then, he went to sleep in his auntie’s house and he brought some rice (which he bought in Auki). On the day of his departure, Rose met him at the market and gave him some bamboo taro. His sister came to the market too, and gave him a bag of potatoes that she dug out the previous day from her garden. Before leaving, Jacob bought a bag of betel nut for his father.

3. Relationships within the transaction Jacob is a bit embarrassed with Rose, because he knows that her relationship with his father is a bit tense. Nevertheless, he thinks that it is important to keep the relationship alive, and so he meets her at the market. Gordon, is also a bit uncomfortable with his sister, but encouraged the gift-giving before Jacob’s departure. Rose is very keen on Jacob, because she knows that he is a good boy, a worker and a dedicated Christian, although she thinks that it is a shame that his teeth are stained by chewing betel nut. Celes was very happy to see her brother, and asked him to come to her house. She misses her relatives, as she feels that she was too young when she got married. So, she was sad for not having her brother with her during Easter. In addition, she still felt ashamed for the accident that took place the last time she tried to send a bag of potatoes to her family. Even if her husband Robert and Gordon had a clarifying phone call, she was not feeling comfortable yet.

3b. Transactions within transactions When Jacob came back home, he gave Gordon the bambutaro that he received from Rose, the bag of potatoes that he received from Celes and the betel nut that he bought at the Auki market.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Jacob insists: “If I go to Malaita, I have to bring something to my in-laws, because they live there too”. He says that “his mind” would have not been “good” if he did not bring something to his in-laws and to his sister. He also says that he would have been sad if his in-laws would have not given anything back to him. He would have felt that they had forgotten about him. However, he says that he would have not kept his sorrow if that was the case, and that the next time he would have been nice, kind and generous as always. Then, he adds that he was happy to buy the bread also because he knew that something was going to be given in exchange. He says that he was not concerned about the money that he spent to buy the bread. He thought about the fact that they were going to give something in exchange for it. Jacob recalls the time of the “barter system”, when the saltwater people exchanged fish for the tubers of the bush people. So, while he insists that if anyone brings hom some bread and butter, then they have to give some bambutaro, at the same time he says that when he received the bambutaro he was not expecting it, which is the reason why he says he was happy; because it was a surprise. Jacob thought it was better to give something to his sister, because otherwise some bad feelings would have arisen in her. He says that it is their kastom to do so. “I know that our

378 relationship is under control, that we do not forget each other”. So, he gave some money to his sister Celes, who does not have a job in Malaita. She invited him to come to her place but he said that he had no time to do that. Thus, she told him that she would come to the market on the day of departure, to give something for him. So, in exchange for the money, she gave him a bag of potatoes on the day of his departure. Or at least Jacob sees those potatoes as a counter-gift.

5. Commentary on value and valuers Jacob was clear about the value of those gifts: “If I do not give anything to them, it means that I do not love them”. Regarding the bag of potatoes, Gordon said: “Robert learnt the lesson”. When Gordon received the bag of betel nut, he said he was happy, because that meant that his son and his sister have been thinking of him. The sight of the bambutaro caused a large smile on his face. He really loves bambutaro. But he did not make any comment, probably because that came from his sister.

26. The lost pork

1.Transaction David failed to deliver some bamboo-roasted pieces of pork to Clement.

2. Background David had received SBD $ 100 from Clement as a contribution to his bride price. When the wedding was celebrated with a feast, some bamboo-roasted pieces of pork were put aside for Clement and his family. David travelled to Gilbert Camp to reciprocate Clement’s contribution with the pieces of pork. But he forgot the bag on a bus, and lost it.

3. Relationships within the transaction David is the son of Clement’s mother’s brother.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Has the kaon been paid? Yes and no. Clement feels disappointed that he could not be part of the wedding feast even if he had contributed to the marriage. This makes him feel even more entitled to receive a contribution when his sons will get married. However, had the pork been delivered, would the kaon be paid? Yes and no. Clement says he would have been happier with the pork, but that would have not affected his right to David’s contribution to his son’s marriage.

5. Commentary on value and valuers “The pieces of pork are not a return for the 100 dollars! It is the culture! […] If I really need money for my boy, I can go and ask. […] Marriage is very important. […] Good, honest people feel responsible. When they know that one of their relatives will have their kids married soon, they give you some money straight away. […] We do not count, when it concerns kaon”.

379 27. Rose’s Odyssey

1.Transaction Rose gives fish, sugar, rice, tinned tuna and meat to her relatives on her father’s side, and receives some pudding and seven bags of potatoes. She gives food also to her relatives on her mother’s side, plus some of the pudding from her father’s side, and receives taro, pana, and mangrove. She then gives the rest to her family. The potatoes are shared with her father’s siblings.

2. Background Rose spent one week in Malaita over Easter. When she arrived in Auki, on Thursday night, she put the food for her mother’s side in the office of a wantok. She firstly went to visit her father’s relatives, who live in Laugwata, a village not far from Kilusakwalo. She gave them some fish, a bag of rice, some tinned tuna and tinned meat. She staid two days, during which the family prepared some pudding and cooked the fish in the motu. On the day of her departure from Laugwata, she was given some of the bamboo pudding, and she was instructed to bring it to the family of her mother’s side. They live in Maoro, a village between Kwara’ae and Langalanga. Before to visit them, she called at the office and retrieved the food she has left in custody. She brought some cooked fish, rice, some soap, sugar and some money, in addition to the pudding. She spent three days there. On the day of her departure from Maoro, some relatives from her father’s side arrived in Auki with seven bags of potatoes. This was added to the taro, pana and mangrove that was given by her mother’s side. With the help of some relatives and a taxi, she finally managed to bring all this food in Gilbert Camp. In Gilbert Camp, one bag of potatoes was given to Rachel, two to Jennifer, one to Eizel and one to Noel.

3. Relationships within the transaction Rose is very affectionate to her father’s mother Lidia. She says that she was very happy to visit them. However, she decided to spend the Easter with her mother’s side. They are members of the CRC church, a church that has the same theology of the COC, to which Rose belongs too, like her mother and father.

3b. Transactions within transactions Before going to Laugwata, Rose saved some food and kept it in another place, waiting to visit Maoro and give it to her relatives on her mother’s side. In Laugwata, she received some pudding, which was added to what she kept in the office. The maternal side and the paternal side of the family are not very much in contact with each other, according to what Samuel said.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction The reason offered for the circulation of gifts is that it is not good to visit a relative and arrive barehanded. However, it is also true that Rose was sent because some gifts were to be given. The argument is therefore circular. It seems that the underlying reason is that Samuel and Joyce wanted to elicit their relationships with both lineal and affine relatives, to keep them alive. Rose was sent ‘in mission’ to do that. And her travel allowed for many relationships to be elicited, as shown in the diagram. The mother’s brothers and sisters were not given anything, basically because some are dead, while some live far away. Another reason is that there was not much food to be shared that came from the mother’s side.

380 Indeed, the food from the father’s side was intended to be given only to the urban relatives of the father.

5. Commentary on value and valuers Rose says that she enjoyed going around distributing food and meeting people. She says that everyone was very happy to receive the food, and to give something back. Both mother and father insisted that it is very important to send gifts to the in-laws, and emphasized this connection more than the lineal one. However, this might be because they are supposed to say so. Rose admits that it is a little bit difficult to organize such a complex movement of food. But she says that it is important to keep the relationships alive. When her father and mother received the bags of potatoes, they said: “Oh, they have been thinking of us”.

28. Alek’s bride price/fundraising

# Mani mouri (life one) Amount Relationship with the groom 1 Resina Solo $ 40.00 1. Maternal kasinsista 2. Paternal kasinbrata 2 Sam Maesina-10 Kg Rice $ 100.00 3. Paternal kasinbrata plus 4. Paternal kasinbrata 5. Paternal kasinbrata 3 Danny Ramo $ 40.00 6. Paternal ankol (FZS) 7. Paternal ankol 4 Raphael Falia $ 50.00 8. Maternal kasinbrata 9. Paternal kasinsista 5 Ily Osarava $ 20.00 10. Paternal kasinbrata 11. Paternal kasinbrata 6 Habet $ 10.00 12. Ankol (MZS) 7 Toramo Manase $ 30.00 13. Maternal kasinsista 14. Paternal kasinbrata 8 Agustine Ramoni Aeabata $ 100.00 In the table below are those who 9 Modlin Maelisaka $ 100.00 reverted their position from debt to credit. The last three are relatives of 10 Johnson Geresoa $ 20.00 some of the ‘dead ones’, who gave in their behalf. 11 Andrew Maetoa $ 30.00 12 Atkin Baura $ 50.00 Mathew Sasade $ 10.00 Recard Talaeala $ 100.00 13 Filimon Lemono $ 30.00 Standy Alusuria $ 100.00 14 Anniko Aeabata $ 50.00 Beram John Iaka $ 10.00

Peter Fake $ 60.00

381 # Mani mae (dead one) Amount 1. Mother’s anti 2. Paternal kasinbrata 1 Tangoia Maeligota $ 200.00 3. Paternal kasinbrata 4. Paternal kasinbrata 2 Paul Maesilia (Big) $ 200.00 5. Paternal kasinbrata 6. Paternal kasinbrata 3 Peter Saeni Red mani-6ft 7. Paternal kasinbrata 4 Justine Seamani $ 100.00 8. Paternal kasinbrata

5 Hane Ydua $ 100.00 6 Mathew Sasade $ 20.00 7 Recard Talaeala $ 40.00 + 6ft 8 Andrew Maetoa $ 30.00

1.Transaction Numerous relatives give different amounts of money and some tafuli’ae to Alek. The payment looks like a bride price, but it is in fact a fundraising, as the wife is freely given. Details of the transactions (type of relative, amount paid, position of credit/debit) follow, reproduced as faithfully as possible from the records made by John, Alek’s son.

2. Background Aleks’s son met Ysabel at the University of South Pacific in Honiara. She is from Roviana Lagoon, Western Province, and attends the United Methodist Church. He is from Kwara’ae, Malaita, and attends the New Life Pentecostal Church. They had a baby during their relationship, so they decided to unite in marriage to stretim their position. Their marriage becomes an opportunity for Alek to collect some of the credits he is owed by some of his relatives. Even if the girl is given by her family for free, he organizes an event that looks like a bride price, in order to be able to gather those relatives and receive their contributions.

3. Relationships within the transaction The girl is given from her family to Alek’s family, for free. Alek holds some credits with his relatives. The two things are not normally linked, but Alek decides to link them by calling for contributions towards the bride price, because the bride price has the power to call the help of the relatives. “All are relatives” said Alek. The relationship of debit/credit is recorded with zeal by John: some relatives are still in debt, some others paid their debt and do not have to give anything more, some others gave more than they were expected to give and are now in a relation of credit.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Alek says: “I want to do it during this period, because any debt must be paid. A lot of money is expected to come, that is why I put that sticks in that way. Then I put some shell money on it, because that is the culture, that is the culture of Malaita. So, I wanted the old debts to be paid, and if you want, then, and you want to make me happy, you can also help me in the first place”.

382 His son diligently recorded the amounts received and verified if anything was expected from the relatives, or due to them, both before and after the transaction took place. In his notebook, the people to which an amount is due are listed under the heading Mani Mouri (Kwara’ae = Alive Money), whereas the people who are not expecting any return are listed under the heading Mani Mae (Kwara’ae = Dead Money). In the middle of the two pages there is a list of people who paid their debt with more than expected, and are now in a relation of credit with Alek. There is no heading for them, as they are considered as part of the Mani Mouri list.

5. Commentary on value and valuers Alek and his son seem to consider bride price as a powerful economic tool to pool the resources of the community for the needs of the individual households. The help of many relatives for a single person, the continual circulation of valuables, and the changing positions of credit and debt are seen as ways to perpetuate the wealth and harmony of their society. On the contrary, they consider the people who “excuse”, who do not contribute or give what they are expected to give, as very bad. They even say that it is because of this feature in the culture of the “black man” that Melanesian people do not develop. However, when asked about the importance of those relatives who contributed, John and Alek did not draw any difference between relative and relative, between small contributions and big contribution. “They are all important”, they said.

29. The seed money

1.Transaction SB $9.100 are given by Clement to the Chairman of the Executive Committee, on the behalf of the Anglican Parish of Auki. The transaction takes place in the middle of the road; the money passes from one bag to the other. The details of the handover are discussed during a committee meeting.

2. Background During a committee meeting held in November 2010, the Anglican parish of Auki organized a fundraising to finance the construction of a new church in Gwaunaoa. Beside other streams of contributions, the committee had also to invest the $5000 lent by the Diocese of Malaita. Six months later, Allen, on the behalf of the Parish, went to Clement’s house in Honiara to propose him the plan decided by the committee. Clement understood that the parish did not have any other plan ready to make that money grow, and decided to help his friends. He was then given the $5000 by Allen on the behalf of the Parish committee, that had received them from the Diocese of Malaita, that in turn received them from the Headquarter of the Church of Melanesia, which is mainly funded with money from New Zealand. With $2250 Clement bought 9 piglets, and with the rest he paid food, vaccinations, transports and everything else related to the raising of the pigs. He also shouldered some extra expenses by his own pocket. Two pigs died. After about 5 months, he sold the remaining 7 pigs ($1300 per pig) for a total of $9.100, which he gave to the Parish committee, two months later. At the beginning of next year, the parish committee will give the $5000 back to the Diocese. This is indeed what is called “seed money”, which is to be used to generate other investments projects in other local Anglican parishes.

383

3. Relationships within the transaction Clement, before his late conversion to the SSEC, used to be a member of the Anglican church of Buma, and later of Gwaunaoa, the village where his father moved when the sea level started to rise and a big wave hit the coastal part of his village of origin. So, he is still linked to the local church because most of his youth friends from this area are in it, and also because all his family of origin is Anglican. His wife, who is Evangelical like him, helped him to raise the pigs, thus contributing to increasing their value. In addition, through her marital link she helped to save the committee’s money, because the pigs were sold to Clement by her mother (his tambu, his mother in-law) for a special price, $250 instead of $300, which is the average price for piglets. However, the wife repeatedly expressed the desire not to do this pig-raising again, because it is too hard for a non-paid job and they already have too many troubles with their paid jobs and other commitments. Another important relationship to mention is the one with God, because this relationship motivated Clement to work for free, as much as the other relationships he cares of.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Clement says: “I just offer my time, offer my energy, my strength to work, because I believe that I am not working for anyone, I am working for God. This is God’s business. It’s not anyone’s business, it’s not the Anglican business, it’s not any leader’s business, it’s God’s business. (...) Because, whatever money I bring to the church, it will help administer the church. (...) Any church. For the development of the church. When the church develops, then it will help a lot of people, in spiritual development”. This is what is called ‘ecumenism’, a very common way of thinking among the Christians in Honiara. He also adds: “So, because of that faith, not because I belong to SSEC or Anglican, I believe that I am working for God. I am just a servant of God, so I believe that with the strength that God gave me, with the knowledge that God gave me, I have to give something back to him, not to the people. I cannot work for free for anyone, they have to pay me. But because I see it is God’s business, it has something to do with the church, then I can do it for free. It’s just like, giving a free offering in the church, it’s just like taking up 10 dollars, go to the church and put them in the dish (...). I mean, we owe God many things, and he deserves something from us. So, like, we believe that without God there is no existence, there is no creation, there is no life. Everything that we use, everything that we do, everything that is in us, belongs to him, he owns us. (...). And the purpose of the church, why it exist here on Earth, is to prepare lives for the Kingdom of God. That is why, when I am doing that, I am doing it free, not for pay. And there are some people that help the church and they see that God is blessing their souls. When they give more to the church, they are blessed, because they operate on the principle that the messare you give the messare you will receive, how much you invest in God’s business, in God’s kingdom, how much you will give, the same amount you will receive”. Nevertheless, he emphasizes: “But that is not supposed to be the attitude towards giving. We just give generously the things of God. Because we don’t want to… so that God gives us as much. And the Bible say so. But then, we give with a generous heart, believing that everything belongs to God and he deserves some of these things for his purposes. Here on earth (...). What is written in the Bible: ‘the messare you give the messare you will receive.’ Yeah, that’s what the bible says. In that context, we don’t take the scripture for granted: I give so that God will give me so much. No. We give because some of these things that God gave to us need to return to God, to Himself. Yeah, they are different

384 kinds of giving, but that is our belief, the kind of it. Not because we belong to SSEC, not because we belong to Anglican, just because we are believers, we are Christians. We read from the same word of God, the Holy Scripture. So, we believe that all of us learn from the same book, get the knowledge from the same book. So we just do that for free. Like, you might ask me: you are just... In our right mind, in our right thinking, when someone do something, he deserve something to return to him. Yeah, that is our right thinking, that is our right mind. But then, we believe that when we do things, God will bless us too, he will bless us, he will extend our life, and it happens. It happens, people see... (...). Yeah, when they give triple, they receive triple, when they give double they receive double, when they give once they receive once”.

5. Commentary on value and valuers Clement offers numerous comments about the value of the relationships with his family, his homeland, his work in Honiara and his belief in the power of investments.

Family Clement says that he has commitments as a father and as a husband, and that he had to temporarily sacrifice part of the time and the energy he usually dedicates to these commitments. He also notes that his wife Rose concerns about his undertaking this work, because this is added to an already heavy burden of commitments. However, she helped concretely all along the project. Clement underlines the importance of the agreement of his wife to the completion of the project. hom Clement admits that he accepted the task because he saw his friends facing difficulties in investing the money they received from the Diocese. He says that, if it was not for that, maybe he would have refused, as he was already very committed and busy.

Honiara He has several responsibilities as Senior Pastor at the Honiara Association and as a Pastor of the SSEC of Gilbert Camp. He remarks that he continued to do his job, although the piggery project put him an extra-burden of responsibility on the shoulders.

Investments Clement is sorry for not using the raised pigs to generate more pigs and organize another sale. He says he is too busy to continue to do this work. But he exhorts the committee to consider the possibility for a future investment, before giving the seed money back to the Diocese.

30. Clement and Kaspar

1.Transaction Clement hands $10 to Kaspar.

2. Background Kaspar, as the coordinator of the youth ministry, is doing some work for the Anglican church of Buma, Clement’s village of origin. Kaspar does not have enough money to pay

385 for some stationery and photocopying, which he needs to complete the tasks he was given by the church. Clement meets Kaspar in Auki, while doing some shopping. Kaspar asks and Clement gives, without discussions.

3. Relationships within the transaction Clement, before his late conversion to the Evangelical church, used to be a member of the Anglican church of Buma, and later of Gwaunaoa, the village where his father moved when the sea level started to rise and a big wave hit the coastal part of his village of origin. So, he is still linked to the local church, because most of his youth friends are from this area, and also because all his family of origin is Anglican. The relationship with God is also important, because this too motivates Clement to work for different churches, without doing any distinction. Lastly, Kaspar is one of Clement’s distant cousins, but this seems to be more an incidental element than an efficient cause.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Clement says: “One is: my relationship with the Anglican church; and two is: originally I am from the Anglican church even if I am pastor in the Evangelical church. And three is: our relationship with the people and also we are related families. So, because of that, I must help”. He also adds “Because in the church, we have ecumenism, that despite they are in the Anglican and we are in the Evangelical or SSEC, ecumenism provides a way that we can still link. That is our relationship, and two: we believe that we are worshipping the same God, so we must help each other”.

5. Commentary on value and valuers The value of any person who is working for the church is epitomized in the expression “brother in Christ”, which Clement used to define someone with which one shares certain aims in life. With this kind of person, one should feel free to share the burden of pursuing the objectives of the church.

31. Clement and his niece

1.Transaction Clement hands 10 dollars to his niece.

2. Background After the ecumenical service that he held in Buma, while on his way home, Clement is asked to give some money by a woman. She speaks very quietly, her face is hidden in the shadow as she lowers her head. When Clement gives her $10 she goes away quickly, after holding his hand very tightly.

3. Relationships within the transaction Clement sees that woman as a niece, because she is born of one of his kasinsista.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Clement says: “she needs a slipper (...) so she asked me to help to buy one pair of slippers” because “Sometimes, if they (the relatives) ask and we have something, we give them something. He explains that “the point here is that sometimes we just, they stay at home,

386 sometimes they find that the life is hard for getting money, and sometimes we have mercy on them, or sometimes we see them as: oh, we need to help them, we give them something, even if they do not ask, we just feel like giving them something, just to help them, because we look at them and, is a kind of feeling that we need to help people that are in need, so, we just give them something”. And he adds “Because of that relationship, because of that blood relationship, we must help each other. It’s just like: helping my brother’s children school fees, like that: as a family. And they are extended family members. We did not help them in big things. Sometimes people, when they see us coming back from work, or from Honiara, they thought that we got money, and when we look at them, when we’ve got something, we just help them sometimes: we buy food, and give it to them”.

5. Commentary on value and valuers Clement suggests that people associate the work in Honiara with the possession of a lot of money. As a consequence, he notes the perception of the economic value of internal migrant changes. On the other hand, he admits that he feels mercy for those who, living at hom, do not have easy access to the national currency. They are poor, even if they are rich in local foods and kinship support.

32. Working in the plantation of the Oikali

1.Transaction Clement, on the behalf of the Oikali family, gives one 20-Kg bag of rice to a man who, in exchange, will clean their coconut plantation.

2. Background Right before the Christmas period, the Kwara’ae who live at hom are in desperate search of money to buy the foods they do not produce locally, in order to be able to feed the families who come back for the holidays. Therefore, a man proposed to the Oikali family to clean their plantation in exchange for a bag of rice, and they consented.

3. Relationships within the transaction The man is also a relative. He is not clearly defined, and he is referred to as a kasin.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Clement says: “because he wants to clean the coconut plantation, so then we can: ‘ok, clean that coconut plantation, and we can help you by giving one 20 Kg bag of rice for Christmas’. It is just like: ‘you help me, I help you’”. And later he adds “So, when they want something like that, they can just come and say: oh, I need some rice, but I need to do some work for you”.

5. Commentary on value and valuers About the value of the relative, Clement says: “Well, obviously we call them... Sometimes cousins, sometime first cousins... Second cousins... Just because of the extended family”. About the value of the rice, he says: “In fact, he needs rice, because they find it hard to buy such 20 kg bags rice. It is very hard at home, for them to buy. Like, some of us, we can just raise money and we can pay for our food, needs and wants”.

387 About the people who cannot buy rice, he says: “But some people are very poor. I mean, they are not poor, but in terms of money, I mean they have their own gardens and things like that, but when things like rice, sugar or salt, and things that they can buy from the shops, it is quite hard for them. He says something about the children: “So, then, because they asked us to do some work for us, we say: ok, then you can go and clean the plantation, we can help you with this bag of rice, or sometimes we just give them money for their children, because we see that their children are our children, so we must help them too, we must make sure that all of us are happy, or something like that. About the type of exchange, he clarifies : “Before, we do barter system. But today it is different. Like: ‘you help me, I help you’. (...) It is not barter system, it’s a relationship, it is our culture: ‘if you help me I help you’. It’s our culture, it’s our way of doing things. So, when you give something to someone, he or she is very happy”.

33. Divers who like to drink beers

1.Transaction Clement pays $100 to a couple of divers to fish for his family

2. Background To prepare a nice Christmas dinner, Clements decides to hire some divers to get him a good stock of fish. The divers are two young boys, who were thinking of getting very drunk after the dive, because of the Christmas eve, an event that many people see as the opportunity to drink alcohol. They therefore asked him to be paid in beers and not in cash. But Clement refused and gave them 100 dollars instead.

3. Relationships within the transaction The two guys are seen as relatives, but it is not clear what is their distance from Clement.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction About his decision to pay in money, Clement states: “Number one: because I am a pastor: I am not allowed to encourage people to drink a lot of beer. Although it’s an opportunity for them to dive and give us fish, but I will not encourage them to pay for the beers. What I’ll do is: I should give them the money and let them decide, whether they pay for beers or food for their families, it is their own decision, it is not my decision. But I will tell them: ‘I do not want to pay beers for you. I will give you the money’; as that, it protects my ministry, and myself, my status. Because, if I buy beer, then, if anything goes wrong, I will be blamed: pastor bought beer. It will spoil my ministry and my name. It will be an hindrance to my ministry. Although they suggested, I do not agree”.

5. Commentary on value and valuers About the boys, Clement says: “sometimes they just want to enjoy themselves, they love drinking beer. These things like, it is Christmas”. And he mentions the fact that, being of the Anglican church “it is not forbidden, they can drink beer”.

388 34. A free dinner

1.Transaction Clement is invited to dine in a neighbouring house

2. Background Clement goes to buy some kerosene. Some neighbours see him and call him, asking him to come to their house. So he goes there and sits down with them. They bring some food, rice, potato, bread, and tea.

3. Relationships within the transaction Like anyone else in the area, they are seen as relatives, but the degree of kinship is not clear.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Clement explains: “It’s our culture: it’s our way of doing things. So, when you give something to someone, he or she is very happy. So, he will wait for next time. When you come back home or when you meet them somewhere, that something that you did to him is still reminded: ‘oh, once upon a time this guy gave me this, or feed me in his house, or meet me in the road and gave me this 10 dollars, so I dig this bag potato, or I give this melon’”..

5. Commentary on value and valuers Clement highlights enthusiastically: “almost more than 100 dollar value for the food”. He shows the economic advantage of being an active member of a moral community like his one.

35. A ‘good’ debt

1.Transaction Clement gave 2000 $ to Kennedy

2. Background The church committee of Gwaunaoa, the village of his young life, asked Clement to contribute to a fundraising. Kennedy was trying to sell his pigs, but it was hard to sell them in Malaita at that time. So, Clement asked Kennedy to ship his pigs to Honiara. The pigs were shipped in Honiara, where Clement butchered them and used them to raise money. He did not pay Kennedy immediately, as he did not have the money yet, nor did the church committee. After the fundraising, Clement gave part of the money to the church committee and paid his debt with Kennedy.

3. Relationships within the transaction Kennedy is Clement’s first cousin, as their mothers are ril sisters.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Clement explains that he borrowed the pigs from Kennedy because in this way he could help both the Gwaunaoa church and his first cousin. He could not buy the pigs to his cousin, nor he was able to find much food for the fundraising. But by borrowing the pigs

389 he was able to increase the funding power of the fundraising and at the same time to help Kennedy sell his pigs. He concludes, satisfied: “Yeah. I help a lot of people”.

5. Commentary on value and valuers Clement says recognizes that he is someone who is able to help a lot of people, and claims that much of his wealth and public recognition comes from the skills he has.

36. Bread to brother-in-law

1.Transaction Clement gives 4 loafs of bread to Simon.

2. Background As soon as Clement planned to go to Malaita, he had in mind to buy something for Simon. Simon lives at Kilosakwalo, where Clement passes to go to his village, and as an in-law, Clement is supposed to honour his brother-in-law when he is in the vicinity of his house.

3. Relationships within the transaction Simon is the brother of Clement’s wife.

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Clement states: “It’s a must. (...) (The tambu is) Very important. Because of our culture. We must respect him. We must show our generosity. We must show that we are their in-law”. Like his mother-in-law gave him one loaf of bread the week before, he now gives bread to his tambu.

5. Commentary on value and valuers Speaking about not giving food to the tambu when one approaches his house, Clement says that “According to our culture they will say you are a selfish person”. In other words, not to have some food ready to give to the tambu would be like being disrespectful towards one’s in-laws.

37. Beans of the good neighbor

1.Transaction George gives 10 beans to John.

2. Background John is going to be married soon, so he thought that it was a good idea to start planting new crops in his garden. So, he asked for some beans to George, who has a bean plantation in his garden. George is willing to help his relative and brought the requested beans to his house. It was not a visit, and after the transaction was completed George left.

390 3. Relationships within the transaction George is a distant relative from John’s father’s side. They can call each other kasin. But their genealogical distance is compensated by their residence proximity. They were not really aware of their genealogical commonality. They only became aware of it when they happened to be living close to each other. Once they acknowledged their connection, then they decided that they should help each other.

3b. Transactions within transactions N/A

4. Rationales offered for the transaction George says that John asked for the beans, and that this is the reason why he gave them to him. He says that this is because relatives should help each other. He also says that in case John did not ask, he would not have felt that he should give those beans to him.

5. Commentary on value and valuers George says that, because John asked the beans, then he should give them to him. He also specifies that, if he did not ask, then there was no reason to give those beans to him. In saying this, he is marking the difference between a kind of giving that is not asked for and a kind of giving that is asked for. The difference is relevant because a kind of giving is associated with a kind of relationship. And this association is clear in the commentary that George gives about the way in which they happened to acknowledge their genealogical proximity, i.e. their relationship for how they understand it. They are distant relatives, so distant that they did not even know each other, before to reside closely. This explains the fact that John has to ask, and that George would not feel he should give those beans to John if they were not asked for. Asking, indeed, is a very particular kind of action among the Kwara’ae, which causes and is caused by particular judgments of value. George, indeed, said: if he does not ask, it means that he does not need. Needing is another particular kind of action (condition) that causes and is caused by judgments of value in Kwara’ae culture. All this resonates well with the fact that, when asked about the number of beans, George knew the answer immediately, as opposed to other transactions that I observed, in which the giver did not know (or claimed not to know) precisely how many objects were being transacted.

29. 10 fishes from a filial cousin

1.Transaction Joseph Atkin Baura receives 10 small tuna fish from John Mark Lau’omea.

2. Background Joseph Atkin was coming back home from Buma, walking on the shores of Dalamata beach, and met John Mark on the way. The two had a short conversation about the issues of the day and what they have been doing. When John Mark hinted at the fact that he went fishing, he added that Joseph Atkin can have some of those fishes. In the end, Atkin received most of John Mark’s fishes, and cooked them for our dinner that night.

391 3. Relationships within the transaction John Mark and Joseph Atkin are Di’i, cousins of first degree, or feast kasinbrata. John Mark is indeed the son of a sister of Joseph Atkin brother. The two live in different homestead and do not happen to meet very frequently, because Joseph Atkin works mostly in the bush, while John Mark works largely as a fisherman.

3b. Transactions within transactions N/A

4. Rationales offered for the transaction Atkin says that this kind of gift take place just because of the care that relatives take of each other. It is normal that, because he met his relative on the way, that relative must give him part of what he has or, in this case, what he has just fished. He says that it is a form of love and respect, and that he is always ready to reciprocate il the opportunity arises and if he can.

5. Commentary on value and valuers Although John Mark is the FZS, i.e. a first-degree cousin, that in Kwara’ae is called Di’i, Joseph Atkin called him his ‘San’ (Son). This is probably because Joseph Atkin does not understand or speak English and is not familiar with kinship terms in Pidgin either. He mixes his knowledge of Kwara’ae, Pidgin, and in his expression we can see the traces both. Indeed, it is not unlikely that in Kwara’ae a man calls ‘son’ his first cousin in case this relative is very young. This choice emphasises the strength and the closeness of the relation, and justifies such a gift as 10 fishes. However, it is also likely that he just made a mistake (I did not correct him, because he would have said that I am definitely right, as we were talking in Pidgin and the ‘correct’ term for John Mark is faest kasinbrata). It is interesting to note that, right or wrong, Joseph Atkin applied the same term, son, to himself. He said, more or less, ‘he gave 10 fishes to me because he is my son, and I can take them because I am his son’. This use of ‘son’ calques the uses made of other reciprocal kinship terms, like Di’i (cousin), Gwai (uncle), A’ei (auntie), Louma’a (brother in law), and others. But then, if he applies a reciprocal term, it is unlikely that he meant that John Mark is his son, because in that case he would be his Ma’a (father). But nevertheless, the kind of gift that he received from John Mark is one of those listed by my informants as the proper way of respecting a father. So, rather than saying that he is right or wrong, I would tend to say that Joseph Atkin was using the term son to emphasize the closeness of the relationship, while at the same time making clear, with the use of the term in a reciprocal way, that they are in fact more distant than a father and a son. When I asked Joseph Atkin if he asked for the fishes, he said clearly that he is ‘frait fo askem’, or that he feels uncomfortable to ask. This is indeed another indicator of the relationship between the two. While a classificatory father feels free to ask to his classificatory son, the same is not true between other kinds of relatives. So, again, even if Joseph Atkin uses the term son, there other elements (notably the freedom to ask and the reciprocity of the term) that indicate that the two are more distant. In conclusion, I suppose that by using ‘san’ Joseph Atkin meant to say that, although John Mark is just a kasinbrata, their relationship is very close.

392 APPENDIX E – QUESTIONNAIRE

1. Plis, talem mi nem blo relatif blo iu / long haus blo iu.

2. Watna hemi eig blo ... ?

3. Watna hemi woka blo ... ?

4. Iufala garem impoten frens lo disfala haus?

5. Hao nao disfala frens hem impoten?

6. Wunna hemi cif lo haus?

7. Wat taem ne disfala haus hemi built?

8. Plis, talem mi stori abaot movin fro ples lo bifoa go kasim today.

9. Watna hemi differens bitwin ples lo bifoa en ples blo today?

10. Watna hemi plan blo iu lo futsua?

11. Plis, talem stori blo marrig blo iu.

12. Wunna kam lo marriage blo iu finis?

13. Hemi traditional o cristian marit?

14. Wunna go lo skul insaet lo disfala haus?

15. Wunna garem woka insaet lo disfala haus?

16. Lontaem na disfala woka blo iu?

17. Iu stap insaet lo eni grup?

18. Watna taem iu weik ap lo mornin?

19. If eni normal dei, watna iufala doim?

20. If eni normal wik, watna iufala doim?

21. If eni normal ia, watna iufala doim?

22. Wunna tekem desision lo disfala haus?

393 23. Sapos iutufala disagri, watna save appen?

24. Ic eniwan hem save tekem desision lo mani lo hem?

25. Wunna givim mani lo disfala haus?

26. Eni ota sos of slein?

27. Wunna tekem disfala slein insaet lo haus?

28. Watna olketa save givim fo kilim kaon?

29. Ani ota impoten givim?

30. Watna woka hem impoten lo disfala haus?

31. Wunna save doim disfala woka?

32. Wunna tekem desision lo disfala woka?

33. Eni disagri lo desision lo disfala woka?

34. If eni disagri, exampol?

35. Watna hem impoten fo education blo pikinini?

36. Wunna givim disfala samtin lo disfala pikinini?

37. Eni disagri abaot disfala education blo pikinini?

38. Watna plan iu garem fo pikinini lo futsua?

39. Wunna save givim mani fo disfala haus?

40. Hao nao olketa save givim slein lo disfala haus?

41. Watna olketa save givim lo disfala haus?

42. Wunna garem bank accaunt o savings?

43. Auna iufala save sevim slein?

44. Iufala garem personal insurance?

45. Auna iufala save sevim mani fo olketa relatif wea dae?

46. Iufala garem cad lo bank?

394 47. Talem mi stori abaot usim disfala cad.

48. Aona mani save ekceing betwin mami en dadi?

49. Aona mani save ekceing betwin brata an sista?

50. Eni slein save givim fo pikinini blo iu?

51. Eni relatif blong iu stap oversi?

52. Disfala relatif hem save kasim moni lo iu?

53. Auna iufala save kilim disfala kaon?

54. Auna iufala save sendim mani?

55. Lo disfala famili wunna save spendim slein?

56. Watna iufala save paem evrimant?

57. Sappos iufala garem slein mani, watna iufala save paem?

58. Watna iufala nidim fo livim insaet lo gud laif?

59. Sappose iu garem bik slein, watna iufala save doim?

60. Eni relatif iu save mitim moa?

61. Iufala save askem slein lo frens wea hemi stap witim iufala?

62. Iufala save askem slein lo neiba blo iu?

63. Watna samtin blo iu hem most impoten?

64. Watna hem samtin impoten blo disfala haus today?

65. Watna hem samtin impoten lo disfala communiti?

395

396 APPENDIX F – SURVEY

To conduct my survey, I began with a subdivision of the area into 5 sections in order to make it easier for me to organize the collection of data in relation with local situations. For example, I planned to survey the area where most SDA people live on Sunday, as they are busy on Saturday with the church service. The subdivision of the area was also intended to generate and organize data in a way to compare them later for the purpose of understanding different patterns of settlement (related to history, ethno-linguistic distribution, religious distribution, and others). In each area I counted the number of houses. Once I counted all the 468 houses of the settlement, I randomly selected a number of households equal to 1/3 of the total number of households in each section. So, for example, if in Area A I counted 39 households, my random sample of that area would include 13 households from that section. Apart from basic demographic information such as number of people per household, I collected data concerning the name of the clan with which the inhabitants identify (Clan Name), the ethno-linguistic and religious affiliation of the head of the household, his wife and their children (HLang, WLang, HChu, WChu, ChLang, ChChu), the number of non- immediate relatives living in the households (ExRs), how many people are fomally employed with a contract (Empl) and how much they collectively earn (FixSal), the year in which the house was built (Year), whether the house is owned or rented (O/R), and the number of people in the household who received some sort of education (EDU, Primary, Secondary, Tertiary). This information is classified in codes in order to make it simpler to manipulate data with statistic software such as SPSS or Excel (see tables below).

Coding of ethno-linguistic affiliation Code Information Code Information Code Information Code Information ALU Alu Island GUA Guadalcanal LAU Lau SIK Sikaiana ARE Are’Are GELA Gela MAK Makira SIM Simbo BAE Baegu ISA Isabel MAR Marovo Lagoon SMA SouthMalaita BUIN Buin KWE Kwara’ae NMA North Malaita TOB Tobaita CHO Choiseul KWO Kwaio PNG Papua N. Guinea ULA Ulawa FAT Fataleka LAN Langalanga SHO Shortl. Islands VEL Vella Lavella

Coding of religious affiliation Code Information Code Information Code Information Code Information Anglican South Seas Assemblies Ministry of the AOG COM Church of MOK SSE Evangelical of God Kingdom Melanesia Church Bible Way Jehovah’s Roman Catholic United BW JW RCC UC Centre Witnesses Church Church Christian United Kingdom Seventh Day COC Outreach KH SDA UPC Pentecostal Harvest Adventists Centre Church

397

398

399

400

401

402 APPENDIX G – BY LAWS

403

404

405

406

407

408

409

410

411

412

APPENDIX H – TRANSCRIPT OF THE RESTITUTION CASE

Time Intervention

00 Nathan thanks the police officers and the other chiefs. He says that the reason why the police is there is to mediate, and to find a solution. 2’ The Chief Police Officer (CPO) says that there should be a disciplined method for discussion. He meant that no one is allowed to interrupt while someone else is talking. And asks: “Is it clear?” Everybody, or almost: “Clear” 3’ The CPO prays and we all pray with him. 5’ Nathan explains that no one shall talk without the request of the chiefs. Whoever will do so, would have to pay a fine of $ 50 SDB. He clarifies that the meeting is held under the authority of the local chiefs, depository of customary law, and the authority of the local police, responsible for the enforcement of the national constitution. 7’30” Nathan asks who is calling for the case. George stands up. George asks who is the chair of the meeting. He would not take part if the police officers were chairing the meeting. Once he is assured that the meeting is chaired by the chiefs, he starts to explain the reasons to call for the case. He says that he was told by Ethel that Hugh and Jane had asked to a magic man to kill his brother Jack with a magic. As he learned this, he went straight to Hugh’s house and asked for an open discussion about what he heard. 8’30” The CPO asks who is the person who reported the rumour to George. 9’ Ethel stands up and tells the story of the day in which she was visited by Rhoda, She adds a lot of details that are not necessary for the case: “Rhoda visited me on Wednesday 10 October, but we did not have the chance to speak until late afternoon, as I was busy selling cigarettes and betel nut at the market. Rhoda told me “I want to tell you something. Concerning the death of your brother Jack, it happened because those two (Jane and Hugh) put something in this area (the area where Ethel resides is the same where Jack was sleeping the night he died). They asked a magic man to prepare a black magic, because they were afraid that Jack brought a black magic in his own turn, as he was coming back from Western Province”. The magic man prepared a device that, in case Jack tried to kill Hugh with magic, was going to kill him instead, and buried it in the area where he was sleeping (which is also the area where Jane and Hugh were living and live today). 11’ CPO asks who told her this story. Ethel points at Rhoda. Ethel continues: “So, Rhoda told me: I came to tell you the story. So I asked her: who told you that they killed him? And she replied: Jane came to tell me, when

413 Jack came back (June 2011). She said she was afraid of the magic he brought back from Western Province. I wanted to denounce them to the chiefs, but then they tried to shut my mouth. So, I came to tell you everything so that you can tell George. Then I asked her: are you sure that you want me to do that? And she replied: yes, because they threatened me, and ‘spoiled’ my contract for the land. They ruined me, so this is why this story must come out. They must leave, because they ‘spoiled’ my land with that magic. So, I went to see George and told him.” 13’ Nathan asks Rhoda if what Ethel told is true and if she has anything to add. Rhoda says: “That day in which Jack died, I was not in the area, I was in my house in Kobito. Then, my sister Jane came to visit me and told me what happened. Then I asked her: ‘what happened to him?’ And Jane replied: ‘He went to Western Province, and brought a debol to kill Hugh. Hugh and Jack were fighting for the area, that’s why Jack wanted to kill Hugh. But, because we knew that Jack wanted to kill Hugh, we asked to a magic man to do a magic that would turn Jack’s black magic against him. This is why he died’. Thus spoke my sister”. 16’ Nathan asks Jane if she wants to counter the version given by her sister Rhoda. 16’30” Jane says: “I deny 100% of what she said. The truth is: in 2006 we moved to Gilbert Camp, in the house of my sister Rhoda, which is in the same area where Jack was staying. Then he went to Western Province. When he came back, he said that a man from there gave him something to smoke, which is called ‘half- tobacco’. I was suspicious, because he looked unhealthy that day. He said he smoked that half-tobacco and that a debol entered in his body. He tried to get rid of the debol, but it followed him inside the ship and never left him till the end of the travel. When he arrived, he was unwell, and went to bed, and died during sleep. I deny what she says. She spreads rumours because she is crossed with me because we bought the land. This is why my brother-in-law shut her mouth up. But she must not have any claim on the land, because we paid a rent and because we have bought it now”. 21’ Nathan asks Ethel if it is true that Jack was unwell that night. 21’16” Ethel answers that “Jack had that tobacco with him, but he was OK. He was not unwell, he was normal. He had some food with me, and we chatted, until he said that he was going to bed. In the morning, breakfast was ready but he was still sleeping. At lunch time, I sent my niece to wake him up, but she said he was not waking up. Then I came into the room, and found that he was cold”. 23’ Nathan asks Hugh if he wants to say something. Hugh says that “Jack was sick because of the half-tobacco. He felt his body was weak, his head was turning around, his stomach was upside-down. So, he went to sleep and never woke up”. 25’ Nathan asks: “So, when our uncle died, who was in the house with him?” Ethel answers “I was in the house with him”. Nathan asks: “And you did not notice any sign, anything, that might indicate that

414 Jack was affected by the half-tobacco?” Ethel nods. 26’ Phil, one of the police officers stands up and talks: “I will speak from the point of view of the law. One thing that I am interested to investigate, and this might be recognized as important for the legal process, is: who was present when Jack died? But we have already raised this issue. Another one concerns the versions provided by the two sisters. Rhoda gave her version and Jane gave her version. In the eyes of the law, they are equal. Rhoda says she told the truth, and so does Jane. So, I would like to know if, before dying, Jack mentioned anything that was not raised yet in this meeting. I ask this because, so far no elements emerged that might point that either Jane or Rhoda is lying. I look for some proof that might invalidate one of the two versions”. 27’ Nathan continues: “So, anyone has anything to say to invalidate one of the two versions?” Rhoda says: “I was not in the house when he died, so I told the story that Jane told me. My young daughter was in my house with me when Jane came to tell me her story. If you want her to come and talk, I will send someone to look for her”. The CPO asks: “How old is your daughter?” Rhoda answers: “She must be about 12”. Jane tries to speak, but she is stopped by the CPO, and Nathan also stops her. 28’ The CPO speaks: “We are looking for some sort of evidence. Evidence is, for example, a stone that was used to hit a man. If we find the stone, this is evidence: something that amounts to a murder. This is the kind of thing that they (the white men) call ‘elements’, i.e. facts. I want to make clear that we have to talk about the facts. Because this is a pretty big issue, right? We cannot speak on the basis of assumptions, right? We cannot assume! We must talk about facts! Only facts will bring conviction! So far, I am still waiting for the facts! Where are the facts? Where are the facts on the death of my brother Jack [fictive brother]?? The spirit, that magic that killed him, where is it? Is that a fact? Not yet! When a man is accused, that is a fact! That is a fact that the court might prove! But, if there is no murder, what can we prove? Right? We need ‘direct evidence’ and ‘binding evidence’, right? Because what we are talking about is murder! It has the highest degree of severity! Is it clear or not??” 32’ Everybody, or almost: “Clear” Jane: “When I arrived at Rhoda’s house the girl was not there! It was 10 o’clock, she was at school! When I told Rhoda that Jack died the girl was at school. And I did not say that we put a magic. I only said that Jack died. Those allegations that we put anything under the house, they are all lies”. 33’ Rhoda: “I remember, I was cooking a fish cake…” Nathan stops Rhoda. Jane: “I came at 10 o’clock... And the girl was not there. That’s all”.

415 Rhoda: “I was cooking a fish cake. My daughter was helping me, I remember well. She did not go to school. If you call her, she will come and will tell you!” Jane: “Just because she is your daughter! You told her to say what you want! She says all these lies only because she is crossed with me because of the land!” Nathan: “Order!” 34’ There is a lot of confusion. Nathan: “If there is anything to say, I will ask a question. Then, the person answers. We will let the person finish, and then I will ask another question. OK? If you two talk like BUM-BUM-BUM! we do not understand what you say. What I understand is that, you two have a concern about the land area. But I am not interested in the area! I keep this in mind, but this issue has to wait. I am not new to the issue of land. I do this work since 20 years, and I faced many land cases. But the issue of land has to wait now”. 36’ The CPO says: “Thank you Chairman. We are now discussing about the issue of the death of our brother Jack, not the issue of your land. OK? We are talking about death!” James speaks: “We chiefs will only take decisions on the basis of evidence. We need witnesses, and we will make use of their versions to understand what happened. But, so far, the issue of the death is still up here [he means, there is a an idea floating in the air, but no grounds to sustain it]. Once we will see some grounds, we will give some judgment”. Nathan: “Who wants to talk?” 38’ William speaks: “I will talk. I will speak about what Lenga [Ethel] told us today, i.e. about what Rhoda told her that day. When Rhoda told us that she was going to tell the story to her, I told her to shut her mouth up. I shut her mouth up because she must stop saying all those things. I shut her mouth up because she is a liar. She does not tell the truth about the death of Jack. This is the story, this is why I shut her mouth up”. 39’ Nathan: “Anyone wants to reply?” Rhoda: “Me, a liar?! I am true in the face of God. Might he come down and stay in front of me. I am not a woman of lies; I am not someone who puts magic on the others. I am only telling you the story that I heard from the mouth of my sister. I am not a woman who lies. I am Christian woman, and I cannot lie because God is with me”. Then she takes a breath, and explodes: “I am not like you two who, regardless of the fact that the land belongs to someone else, you pay it under cover in order to own it for you two! SHE [pointing at Jane] is a woman who makes such deals! SHE is a woman who steals! Who does all those bad things!” Nathan beats on the desk of the police officer with his fist. Rhoda: “Me! A liar!” 40’ Nathan: “OK, let me explain again. What this chief (James) explained is that what we need has not come out yet. This is why I want to know more about the

416 version given by Jane, as the role of the half-tobacco has not been ascertained. I am still looking for any small sign that might explain the death of Jack. For example, has the magic buried under the house been found? If not, then I would ask if in the line [genealogy] of Jack there are cases of sudden death. If not, then we have to ask more questions, because Rhoda says something and Jane says the opposite, so we need more signs to tell where the truth is. Signs, I mean, for example, the half-tobacco, I want to look inside it. Or, some witnesses who might support one version or the other. Or someone who can tell us what was inside the half-tobacco? We cannot decide on the basis of words and rumors, we need some evidence. So far, the only thing that seems clear to me is that you decided to address the issue of Jack’s death now because you have a land dispute. But this is not a meeting on your land issues. This is a meeting about Jack’s death. You two had plenty of time to discuss, why only now you decided to bring up the case? OK, now, I ask again: Ethel, any sign you noticed before Jack died?” 46’ Ethel: “Jack did not have anything wrong. He was OK. We talked, before he went to bed. We sat together in the kitchen, and he was in health. We sat, and had some betel nut. Then, he told me: ‘sister, it is time for me to go to bed’. So, I said: ‘OK, you go. I will tide up and will go to sleep too’. So, when I later went to sleep I could not see what happened. The day after, when my small daughter told me that Jack was not waking up, I went into the room and found him dead. I cried, and shouted, so that some people might come and help me. He did not tell me that his stomach was aching. But that magic man must have done something to him, otherwise, why did he die? But I did not see any sign on his body”. 48’ Nathan: “OK, it seems clear by now that Jack did not present any sign that he was going to die. Who would like to talk?” George: “I’d have a question now. Rhoda says that when Jane came to the kitchen, her own daughter was there. But Jane says that this is not true. So, I think we should call Rhoda’s daughter and ask her what happened. Her daughter is old enough to speak” 49’ Nathan: “I would like to ask again to Rhoda: is the story that you told us true?” Rhoda: “Yes, I only reported what my sister told me”. Nathan: “Yes, but Jane’s story denies yours”. 50’ Jane: “OK, I want to say, that” [and she retells the same story again]. Nathan: “So, at that time did you know that Jack had come back?” Jane: “Yes, I did.” Nathan: “Who wants to talk?” 51’ Phil: “My in-law [fictive in-law, addressing Rhoda], do you know how sensitive an issue is death for us, people from Malaita?” Rhoda. “Yes, I know” Phil: “OK, then, do you understand how serious is to use the name of a dead relative?”

417 52 Rhoda: “Look, I do not know what happened. I only know that so many people who come back from Western Province bring a lot of strange stuff with them.” Ethel: “She said that Jack brought back some magic to kill Hugh and Jane, this is why he died, she says.” 53’ Jane: “OK, let me tell you what happened. In our area, there was a dog that never wanted to leave. It was a dog with an evil spirit inside. He used to sleep in the back of our house. It was spoiling our land, so I thought we should get rid of it. So, it is not that the evil spirit came with Jack, it was actually there since long time!” 54’ Ethel: “I do not know, but when Jack came back I knew that there was something on your land, as you said, the dog. So, when Rhoda came to tell me that there was some magic in your land and that you paid a magic man to turn Jack’s magic against him, I though, yeah, that must be true”. 55’ Jane: “We have always been in the house since Jack came back. We never left, we never went to look for any magic man”. There is a discussion between the chiefs. [I cannot hear]. 57’ Nathan: “Rhoda, why did you decide to speak with Ethel?” 57’30” Rhoda: “Because my sister bought the land where my house is built. I told her that if she does not give me some money I would tell what she told me. They went to live in my house, on that area. I had already paid that area. But my sister paid it again to the landowner, and now they own it. So, what happen to my money? To my house? I thought to remove the house. Then, my sister came to my house in Kobito, and told me that if I was going to do anything, her husband and brother-in-law would have killed me. Then, I told them that if they wanted my silence, they had to give me the money I spent for that land, which was 6000 dollars. But they said that that money was actually a rent that I paid during the last 6 years. But ... 1h 00’ James: “What did they tell you when you said you wanted to remove the house?” Rhoda: “Nothing, they just said they would not let me do it. But I said: ‘Hey! This is my property!’ I told them that doing something like that was like killing my child in front of me. They were going to shock my mind! So, I told them that they must give me something. But they couldn’t care less. They said that if I was going to speak up, William was going to cut my head off. So, I said: ‘OK, if you want to cut my head off, just go ahead. I will not let you take my property.’“ 1h03’ Phil [addressing William]: “Why did you tell her that you were going to cut her head off?” William: “Because the rumors that she was going to spread are false!” Phil: “How do you know?” William: “Because of what Jane said!” Phil: “How do you know that Jane spoke the truth?”

418 William: “Didn’t you hear their story? It’s obvious that Rhoda is a liar!” 1h05’ Nathan: “So, it seems that we always go back to the issue of land. Despite the fact that the death of our brother Jack is really something big, we keep going back to the issue of land. But, I cannot accept that you threaten our sister because she wants to speak about the death of our brother Jack! People must know that something happened!” Phil: “You see? This is why I asked you how can you be sure that she is lying.” 1h07’ Margaret [Jane and Rhoda’s eldest sister] stands up and talks: “Here is what has happened. This man [William] told her to shut her mouth up, because we are all sisters who were born of one man and one woman. This story is very wrong according to our kastom, because these women are from the same basket [they are blood-related]. So, this is why it is not good to fight each other. I told them that when a man dies, this is something serious, according to our kastom. If someone had seen this man, Hugh, dancing on the day when Jack died, then you might have said: here it is, the man died and the murder is happy! But this story is all wrong, because you should be close to God, and women from Malaita! And you are fighting for a land that belongs to Guadalcanal! This is why I came here without taking any side: because I cannot be with Rhoda or with Jane, they are my blood! But now I have to speak, because I am the big sister! I heard the story, I heard what this man [William] said, and it is right! A man who dies is a very serious thing in our kastom, you cannot simply talk about it! If it was the case that you saw Hugh dancing when Jack died, then I see, you can say that he killed Jack. But if no one saw him dancing, then where are the ‘signs’? We only know that he was sleeping, and then a sickness struck him. Where are the signs? The signs! 1h10’ The CPO: “She means, the evidence!” Margaret: “If we had seen when his wind [his soul] left his body, we could say what happened. If we had seen that he was killed, OK, then you should shut up and pay, regardless of the amount! If the chiefs decides that you must compensate, then you must pay 10.000, 50.000, 100.000! Because it is something very serious!” 1h12’ Phil: “Exactly, so, this is why I asked you [Rhoda] if you really understand how serious an issue death is in Melanesia. Do you understand how serious is the issue of death in our culture?” Rhoda: “Yes.” Phil: “OK, so, now I have to say that, listening to this discussion, I think that there is a conflict of interest at the background of this story, which is: land. It does not matter how much we all try to remain within the topic of Jack’s death, we always come back to the land issue. OK, we all understand this?” Many in the room: “Yes.” Phil: “OK, so, now that the issue of this conflict of interest is clear to everyone, I want to ask you, again [Rhoda]: can you tell the truth? Did Jane really tell you that they killed Jack? He is my ankol too, you know, and I want to know the truth. So, if you really understand how serious death is in Malaita, can you tell the truth,

419 that Jane told you they killed him? Or not?” 1h14’ Rhoda: “I confirm that this is the story that Jane told me. I did not make up the story myself” Phil: “Thank you. So, we all heard that she insists that her story is true. Now, can you state for the last time what are the exact words that Jane used?” Rhoda: “She came in front of my house, and said: ‘‘Jack died. He arrived on Wednesday, and then he went to see a magic man and paid him to make a black magic against Hugh, to remove him from the area. But then, we went to see a magic man too, and paid him to put something in the area that, no matter what Jack might have done, that would turn against him. This is what killed him.’ This is what she told me.” 1h16’ Phil: “OK, once again [to Jane] can you tell us the exact words that you used in that circumstance?” 1h17’ Jane: “As I said, I deny what she says. When I visited my sister, I told her that Jack came back from Western Province and, as many other men do, brought back something that made him feel sick. Then he went to sleep, and died. And…” Phil: “OK, stop. Everybody heard?” Many: “Yes.” 1h19’ Nathan: “OK, in the light of what is going on, according to our kastom, it is very difficult to follow the story. If we listen to the story, we see that people are fighting our kastom! These two sisters have a land issue, which in itself constitutes a form of evidence. Now, I do not want to think that the issue of Jack’s death was taken as an excuse to address the issue of land. But, now, I need to ask a question (to Jane): what time did you go to speak with your sister?” 1h21’ Jane: “I went on the day after Jack died.” Nathan: “Rhoda says that her child was with her, but you say she wasn’t, right?” Jane: “It was already 10 o’clock, so the child was already at school”. The CPO: “We see that there is something very serious here. No one witnessed what actually happened to Jack. But we know that he died. There is a request for compensation, but we are still looking for the evidence that we need in order to say who has to pay. We need evidence! Evidence! We are still looking for such evidence! So, I do not know what we are going to do! Our brother died, but no one was there, so no one can tell what actually happened! We cannot work on the basis of assumptions! We cannot base our evidence on assumptions! We cannot assume that something happened and decide what to do! We have to know what happened to decide, and to know what happened we need evidence!” 1h28’ Ethel: “I think that we should look into why that man [William] wanted to shut Rhoda’s mouth up. I think that they did not want the story to circulate. But I think that this is wrong! If Jack died because of some magic, we should know.” 1h31’ The CPO: “They said that if she was going to speak, she was going to face some

420 consequences. Very serious. What he meant was that the issue concerned the two sisters, because it was the issue of land. He meant that the issue should not concern our community, because it is an issue between the two of them. That is why he shut her mouth up”. 1h34’ Nathan: “What I want to understand is: why Rhoda says that her sister came to speak with her when Jack died and Rhoda waited until now to speak with her [Ethel]. Jane says that the debol was inside the area since long time, so what is the point of putting a magic when Jack arrived? The problem is that we are working without evidence, so we cannot tell if there was a magic or not at that time. This is why I would like to speak with the person who put the debol in that area. 1h36’ William: “We also do not know who put the debol into the area. It’s there since long time.” Nathan: “Do you have any idea who can be the man who put the debol?” William: “Some naughty man, a man who lives in town.” 1h38’ Phil: “Excuse me, chairman [Nathan], I would like to say something. We have to separate the two stories: first of all, the story of the half-tobacco is a story that came out from the mouth of Jane. Let put some order: Rhoda, do you confirm that Jane came to your place?” Rhoda: “Yes”. Phil: “Jane, did you go to visit her?” Jane: “Yes.” 1h40’ Phil: “OK. I try to find out which aspects of your stories are consistent. You both agree that Jack came back at that time and that he had something with him. OK. Another thing is that you both keep going back to the issue of land. So, I see that the issue of land stays in the back of your mind. But I want to make clear to you that Jack’s death is not the basis on which you can attack each other. According to our kastom, this is unacceptable. But this is up to the chiefs to decide. I just wanted to clear the picture.” 1h42’ Nathan: “The picture is clear to me too. Here we are not interested in the issue of land. We want to know what happened with the man who put the black magic. I worked in a lot of cases, and I know that this magic can kill you. But I also know that not all magic can kill. So, in this case, I want to find out if it was the magic that killed Jack or not. What I know from other cases is that sometimes the man has to take some parts of a tree and put them somewhere.” 1h47’ Jane: “I did not pay any man to put a magic. That is why no one can find anything in our area. It is not because the thing was buried that you cannot find it. It is because nothing is there.” The CPO: “I want to clarify that what we began to see is very severe. I see that there is disagreement about a land issue, and I see that there are accusations of murder, and I see that there are two sisters that are attacking each other. When I see all this, I am concerned, because this is the seed that can grow into the kind of conflicts that we observed during the Ethnic Tensions. We are here to avoid

421 that anything like that might happen again. We are Christians, and we are people who know their kastom. So, when something like that happens, we have to make sure that everyone has a say, and that in the end we can reach some form of compromise. I come from Malaita too, and this is the way in which we solve such problems down there”. 1h55’ James: “After many discussions, it seems that no binding evidence is coming out”. The CPO: “I am satisfied with what emerged, in the sense that I see that there is a dispute between the two sisters, and that this dispute somehow triggered the spread of rumors about the death of our late brother Jack. I think that our chiefs are also aware of this. So, the decision concerning what is the right way to proceed belongs to them.” 1h58’ George stands up and says: “One thing is still in my mind. What Rhoda said about her daughter witnessing her talk with Jane, it is still not clear to me. I think we should call that child and ask her to tell us what she saw or heard.” 1h59’ Nathan: “What our uncle George says is true. However, I think we are already able to discern what happened. When we deal with cases like this in our kastom, we always need some evidence. In this case, the child would be a witness, which is evidence. So, concerning this matter, I do agree that we still need to know what she witnessed. Concerning the issue of the debol, I am interested. But I could not find any evidence yet that that debol was actually put there and that it was actually the debol that killed Jack.” 2h02’ Phil: “Excuse me chief, let me just clarify. The rumour that Jack was killed with a magic, this point is not clarified yet. So, let us keep this in mind. The second point is that Rhoda insists that her sister told her that Jane and Hugh killed Jack. But [to Rhoda], it would not be good if you were using this story to attack you sister for the issue of land. But this is exactly what seems to explain why you decided to spread the rumour in the same week in which you learnt that your sister bought the land. So, here comes my question: why did it take you one year to speak? Because, it would not be good if your contention that they killed Jack was actually a way to attack them, right? And then, the third thing I want to say is, if it is true that no evidence emerges about who killed Jack, and that you used the death as a pretext to attack your sister, then I would be very sorry to admit that you used the name of my ankol for your personal gain. If you think that this be the case, then let me ask you to stop discussing about the death of our late Jack.” 2h06’ Nathan: “It is not easy to decide what to do in this case. There are a lot of areas where we are required to express our judgment. But now, we are called to make a statement, and we have to do our best. But I think that our brother, the police officer, has a point in here. So, why didn’t you [Rhoda] speak up before?” 2h08’ Rhoda: “Because she is my real sister.” Phil: “I do not believe that this is the answer.” Nathan: “So, why now?”

422 The CPO: “You have to be very careful, because this is a very serious matter. You have to answer the question in full honesty.” 2h09’ William: “You see that Jane’s sister is really dangerous. So, I want to warn the Chairman.” Phil: “My point is that the time is the key. She says that she did not speak up before because Jane is her real sister. But then why did she speak now, even if Jane is still her real sister?” 2h10’ James: “I think that we have given them the possibility to make their points. Now, it is time for us to decide what to do.” Phil: “She says that she did not speak because Jane is her real sister. But now she speaks up because she discovered that her real sister bought the land. So, she is using the name of our late Jack to attack her.” William: “Now, you see why I wanted to shut her mouth up? Because it is a very serious issue, to use the name of a dead relative in this way. That was my point.” 2h12’ Jane: “She asked me 15.000 dollars, why should I give her that amount? She is...” Phil: “Excuse me, we have made the point for the chiefs, because if we let you speak, we constantly come back to the issue of land, which is not the issue that we are discussing. The sensitive issue here is: death.” Rhoda: “I was just referring what you told me, Jane, that you two...” 2h14’ James: “We know what you want to say. We are 100% sure that if we let you talk we will hear the same story again and again.” George: “We heard the story, and I understand that the name of my brother has been used, so that he cannot rest in peace. So, I think it is time to leave this issue in the hands of the chiefs. Whatever will be the punishment, for whatever side, that will be the answer, and we will accept it.” 2h16’ Nathan: “The punishment is already in my eyes.” George: “The name of my brother has been used! You [Hugh] should consider yourself lucky! My brothers were ready to come to your house to cut your head off!” Phil: “Are you serious?” George: “I am serious! I went to his house, and asked him to come out and talk to me. But he was afraid, and he did not come out! I was serious, that we had to carry out the work of The Master [God]. My brothers already had their knife at your neck. But I told them to calm down. They thought I was not serious, that I was not taking the issue seriously enough. But this is not true, as the name of my late brother was ‘lifted’ without reason! So, a penalty for this misuse of my brother’s name is in the hands of the chiefs. I am looking forward to their decision.” 2h18’ Nathan: “I have an idea about what to do, but I will not speak now. I want to consult with the other chiefs before we come to a decision. Because what we have to decide is something about the death of a man. And the death of a man is

423 something that we can only discuss according to the culture of that man. Culture of man, decision of man. So, I will discuss with the other chiefs.” 2h21’ Phil: “The chiefs will decide who has to pay who and how much will be paid. I want to clarify since now that in case it will not be possible to pay the amount at the moment, then we are happy to discuss with the offender a time for the money to be set apart and paid later. We do not want that you decide by yourself what is the calendar and the time for the money to be paid. Now, it is time to leave the room and let the chiefs decide. All the young people who listened to the discussion [many of them right outside the door], you must learn from what we discussed. I also want you to be sure that whatever will happen as a consequence of this discussion, we will know it. We deal with compensations all the time, and we know what people think when they come out from a discussion of this kind. Do not think about doing anything following your own thinking, because we will know what you have done. Maybe we will have to meet again, maybe we will need to arrange a venue for the compensation to be paid. In any case, we will be there to control that everything takes place according to the law and the kastom.”

424 APPENDIX I – LIST OF PENTECOSTAL CHURCHES IN HONIARA

Name: Christian Life Centre Headquarter: AOG Headquarter Estimated members: ≈ 100 Year church was built: 1986 Branches: None Activities: Standard + outreach missions School: No Projects: Education Income: Self-funded + gifts from Australia Member of SIFGA: Yes

Description: Location: Tandai The Christian Life Centre is the second church founded in Solomon Islands by the Assemblies Of God. The pastor is John Subu who is also the General Secretary for AOG in Solomon Islands. As a consequence the headquarter of AOG in Solomon Islands is located in his office. This church does not have many connections overseas, although a strong relationship exists with some kin churches in Brisbane.

Name: Calvary Temple Headquarter: AOG headquarter Estimated members: ≈ 150 Year church was built: 1974 Branches: None Activities: Standard School: Yes, from kindergarten to Grade 1 Projects: Shool Income: Self-funded Member of SIFGA: Yes

Description: Location: Kolale (China Town) The Calvary temple is the first church established by the Assemblies Of God in Solomon Islands, built with funding by Reverend Charles Blair, pastor of Calvary Temple in Colorado US. It constituted the Headquarter of AOG in Solomon Islands until the pastor of the Christian Life Centre was elected General Secretary of AOG in Solomon Islands. Some prominent government officials regularly attend it.

425

Name: New Life Assembly Headquarter: AOG Headquarter Estimated members: ≈ 100 Year church was built: 1999 Branches: None Activities: Standard School: No Projects: No Income: Self-funded + occasional gifts Member of SIFGA: Yes

Description: Location: Gilbert Camp The New Life Assembly is one of the independent local churches that constitute the large network of the Assemblies of God in Solomon Islands. It is administered by pastor John Mark Olea and his family, who also organize all the activities. All activities are cantered on the spiritual renewal and the services have regularly a very strong charismatic character. Men and women groups organize also small income- generating projects.

Name: Faith Assembly Headquarter: AOG Headquarter Estimated members: ≈ 70 Year church was built: 2001 Branches: None Activities: Standard School: Yes, kindergarten Projects: A oven to bake bread on weekends Income: Self-funded Member of SIFGA: Yes

Description: The church originated from one of the so Location: Tasahe called ‘cell groups’ based at the Calvary Temple. The group, whose people were resident in the Tasahe area, was chosen by the headquarters to represent the AOG network in the western part of Honiara. The church is active to provide services that are otherwise absent in the area, like the kindergarten. This is the only Pentecostal church in this part of the town, were Pentecostal churches concentrate.

426

Name: Salem Assembly of God Headquarters: AOG Headquarters Estimated members: ≈ 50 Year church was built: 1999 Branches: AOG Network Activities: Standard School: None Projects: None Income: Self-funded Member of SIFGA: Yes

Description: Location: Aifara (Burns Creek) This church is attended mainly by migrants from North Malaita, as suggested by the name of the area (Aifara, teasing). A new pastor has recently taken the responsibility of this church, and congregational activities are still to be improved. He is attending a training in Australia, in order to learn how to improve attendance and participation of adherents, with support provided by the local AOG network.

Name: Burns Creek Rhema Family Church Headquarters: Rhema Family Church Estimated members: ≈ 40 Year church was built: 2010 Branches: RFC Network Activities: Standard School: None Projects: None Income: Self-funded Member of SIFGA: Yes

Description: Location: Burns Creek This young local church is not very active at the moment. Although its staff can count on the support of the strong headquarters in China town, there seems to be no perspective to extend the congregation and/or to improve the provision of services to the local adherents. The building itself requires improvements, but the amount collected with tithes, activities, and offerings is still insufficient.

427

Name: Destiny Assembly Of God Headquarters: AOG Headquarters Estimated members: ≈ 20 Year church was built: 2007 Branches: AOG Network Activities: Standard School: Mercy School (prep. to Class 1) Projects: Building extension; sanitation Income: Self-funded Member of SIFGA: Yes

Description: Location: Rice Farm (Burns Creek) This young local church has a very limited attendance, partly due to the fact that another church of the same denomination is active in this area, at less than a km of distance. This church does not have its own school, but can rely on the local Mercy school, which was founded in 2009 by Beverly Komasi, wife of the AOG general superintended, pr. David Komasi. The pastor is motivated to realize some improvements.

Name: Global Harvest Centre Headquarter: COC Headquarters (Malaita) Estimated members: ≈ 70 Year church was built: 1991 Branches: Burns Creek (Honiara) Activities: Standard + Network Marketing School: Yes, from kindergarten to Grade 6 Projects: Build the new office Income: Self-funded Member of SIFGA: Yes

Description: Location: Gilbert Camp A strong relationship exists with the COC church of Sidney, which is also sending some materials to build the new school. They sing the same songs, the COC musical group is being trained by the KH one, they often have jointed services, and the members alternate their presence in both churches. Today the COC church is very much in contact with the Kingdom Harvest. They are both joining a network marketing company from Hong Kong, Qnet.

428

Name: Word Harvest Centre Headquarters: AOG Headquarters Estimated members: ≈ 100 Year church was built: 2001 Branches: AOG Network Activities: Standard + Outreach +Scouting School: Mercy School (prep. to Class 1) Projects: School, building improvements Income: Self-funded Member of SIFGA: Yes

Description: Location: Kobito After more than a decade of activity, this church is now not very active. Although the attendance is relatively high and there are ongoing activities of standard kind, the leaders struggle to implement their projects. For example, the current pastor is trying to organize a group of scouts in order to coordinate the activities of the young members of this church. But, since he could not find a scout leader, so the project has now been interrupted.

Name: Living Word Christian Fellowship Headquarter: The church itself Estimated members: ≈ 200 Year church was built: Branches: Burns Creek (Honiara), Western Province, Malaita, Makira, Choiseul, Temotu Activities: Standard School: Yes, from kindergarten to Form 1 Projects: Lessons to make and sell honey Income: Self-funded Member of SIFGA: Yes

Description: Location: China Town The Living Word Christian Fellowship (LWCF) was established in 1990 by Alfred Alufurae when he broke out from the Rhema Family Church (RFC) as a consequence of a disagreement with Fredson Fenua, the pastor of that church. Currently numerous members of the LWCF are former members of the RFC, although the LWCF has also experienced independent growth over the last two decades. It has no connections overseas.

429

Name: Destiny Glocal Church Headquarters: COC Headquarters (Malaita) Estimated members: ≈ 170 Year church was built: In progress (2012) Branches: COC Network Activities: Standard + Rice to members (10% profit), saving and loan School: Yes, kindergarten to Standard 6 Projects: Influence politics, improve education, business activities, water supply Income: Self-funded Member of SIFGA: Yes

Description: Location: Green Valley The global perspective of this local church originates its name. Following the KHMI, also this church is establishing a strong connection with the Malaysian ministry of Jonathan David. The business-minded pastor registered a retailer activity as Destiny Corporate Society, which sells rice and an NGO, the Destiny Development Agent, with the aim of improving water supply and sanitation. There is also a loan scheme, applying a 1% interest.

Name: Rhema Family Church Headquarter: The church itself Estimated members: ≈ 200 Year church was built: 1989 Branches: Makira, Western Province, Malaita, Gela Activities: Standard School: Kindergarten Projects: Bible School and a small clinic Income: Self-funded Member of SIFGA: Yes

Description: Location: China Town The Rhema Family Church was founded by Alfred Alufurae, following the breakaway of youth group from the Anglican Church of Melanesia, as a consequence of the charismatic activities the group had developed over the 1980s. After the election of Fredson Fenua, the church established connections with churches in Auckland, Perth, in Port Vila, and in Port Moresby.

430

Name: Kingdom Harvest Ministry International Headquarter: The church itself Estimated members: ≈ 400 Year church was built: 2000 Branches: None Activities: Standard + School Of Prophet + Financial literacy programs School: Yes, primary Projects: Secondary school and university Income: Self-funded Member of SIFGA: Yes

Description: Location: Henderson While remaining a strongly Pentecostal church in terms of type of worship and theological basis, Barko has recently established a strong link with the Apostolic ministry of Jonathan David. He presents David as his spiritual father, and regularly attends international meeting in Malaysia. Members from all denominations attend the activities of this church, and also, some prominent members of the government.

Name: Bible Way Centre Headquarter: The church itself Estimated members: ≈200 Year church was built: 1990 Branches: Malaita and Guadalcanal Activities: Standard + Radio +Rehabilitation School: Bible School Projects: N/A Income: Self-funded + donations from NZ churches, AUSAID, Member of SIFGA: Yes

Description: Location: Borderline A strong relationship is established with churches in New Zealand. The church was on the frontline to address the problem of criminal activities and violence for which Borderline has become infamous during the ethnic tensions. Laufilu emphasizes the church role as a service provider, especially in terms of education and health. No effort is put in evangelistic activities.

431

Name: Agape Full Gospel Church Headquarters: The church itself Estimated members: ≈ 70 Year church was built: 1997 Branches: No Activities: School: Kindergarten Projects: Primary School, outreach Income: Self-funded Member of SIFGA: No

Description: Location: White River This church was created by a Korean businessman and some former members of the AOG church of Solomon Islands. Today, it maintains an affiliation with the Yoido Full Gospel Church of Cho Yong-gi. However, no financial helps is sent by the Korean, and the church is today in need of support. The current pastor would like to develop some projects, but cannot find the resources. Now, he is doing training to strengthen the membership.

Name: Neil Thomas Ministry Headquarters: The church itself Estimated members: ≈ 180 Year church was built: 1999 Branches: Isabel, Malaita, Rennel Activities: Standard School: NTM Bible College Projects: Bakery, bricks, gardening Income: Self funded Member of SIFGA: No

Description: Location: Lunga Probably due to the isolate location, this church is attended by people from a vast variety of ethno-linguistic groups of South Pacific, including a couple of waitman. A noteworthy feature of this church is the regular practice of Eucharist, celebrated with pieces of bread and red syrup diluted in water. The style of worship is very enthusiastic, and mainly centered on songs, dances, healings and ‘miracles’. It is connected with the NTM HQs in Melbourne.

432

Name: Christian Revival Crusade Headquarter: The church itself Estimated members: ≈ 250 Year church was built: 2010 Branches: Kakabona (Guadalcanal), Malaita Activities: Standard + outreach School: Bible School Projects: Kindergarten, clinic Income: Self-funded Member of SIFGA: Yes

Description: Location: Henderson The CRC begun its activities in Solomon Islands during the 1980s. In Honiara, the first congregation used to meet in the Honiara High School., As a member of the SIFGA, this church is connected with many other Pentecostal churches. Through such connection, many joint activities are organized, like pastoral visits, shared services, and interchange of musical groups. Many members feel free to worship in other churches, such as the nearby KHMI.

Name: Four Square Church of Solomon Islands Headquarters: The church itself Estimated members: ≈ Year church was built: 2010 Branches: Odou (East Fataleka) Activities: Standard School: None Projects: Kindergarten, dormitory Income: Self-funded Member of SIFGA: Yes

Description: Location: In 2006 Pastor Titus Luta came from PNG formed this congregation, in the house of a relative who married a Solomon woman. The attendance grew and so they moved in a classroom in White River Community High School in 2007. The following year, they moved to another school in Kolale, and in 2010 to the current location. At the moment, members of this church regularly visit the SDA church in Savo, with the prospect of a long-term collaboration.

433

Name: World Outreach Christian Centre Headquarters: The church itself Estimated members: ≈ 80 Year church was built: 2012 (in progress) Branches: None Activities: Standard School: None Projects: Complete the church building Income: Self-funded Member of SIFGA: No

Description: Location: Lunga This is a new church that originated from a congregation created in 2001 as part of the evangelistic activities of pastor John Vailala missionary from Port Moresby (PNG). Formerly known under the name “Revival Flame”, the congregation gathered in the Marine School, then in the College in Panatina, until the leaders bought the piece of land upon which the new building is being built. The services are held on Saturday.

Name: Christian Mission Fellowship Headquarters: The church itself Estimated members: ≈ 80 Year church was built: 2007 Branches: Guadalcanal, Western Province, Malaita Activities: Standard + Business training School: No Projects: Build a church, discipleship training Income: N/A Member of SIFGA: Yes

Description: Location: Lunga The first congregation was created in 2006 by pastor Sakiusa, sent in mission by the Christian Mission Fellowship in Suva (Fiji). Initially, the services were held under a tree, but later a land was made available in the area where their tent currently is. This group organized income-generating activities, ranging from bakery training to the building of a small store. The church is attended mostly by people from the East Honiara.

434

Name: Kobito United Pentecostal Church Headquarter: UPC Headquarter Estimated members: ≈ 50 Year church was built: 1983 Branches: None Activities: Standard School: No Projects: No Income: Self-funded Member of SIFGA: Yes

Description: Location: between Gilbert Camp and Kobito This church was originally an AOG church. In 1992, Dausabea, the man who had built it, was visited by Rosko Seay, who convinced him that the Trinitarian view was wrong. Thus, he got converted to the unitarian view and followed the American in the US. Back in Gilbert Camp, he converted his AOG church into UPC. This church is small and still crippled by local interests and claims. As a consequence, its activity and impact are affected.

Name: Komovatu United Pentecostal Church Headquarters: The church itself Estimated members: Year church was built: 1992 Branches: Burns Creek, Kobito, Koa Hill, Malaita Activities: Standard + outreach + funding of 4 students to USP in Suva School: Yes, Bible School Projects: Evangelization and networking Income: Self-funded + gifts from US, NZ Member of SIFGA: Yes

Description: Location: Komovatu This is the second UPC church in the Solomons, built by pastor Rosko Seay, the first UPC missionary. He left in 1997, and the church is now going through a transition of official responsibilities. The local pastor Hennessey Maetala and his wife Ruth Maetala are very active missionaries. In Loufelo (Kwaio), they have recently converted a group of 6 families, some from a non-Christian background. They built a Bible School in 2003, with funds from a UPC in Jarrod, US.

435

Name: Burns Creek United Pentecostal Church Headquarters: UPC Headquarters Estimated members: ≈ 50 Year church was built: 2003 Branches: UPC Network Activities: Standard + outreach missions School: None Projects: Improving the church building Income: Self-funded Member of SIFGA: Yes

Description: Location: Rice Farm (Burns Creek) This is the oldest Pentecostal church in the Burns Creek area. The standard activities are habitually practiced. It is well established also thanks to the support it receives from the other local churches of the UPC network, who are regularly visiting. Fund- raising activities, especially those organized by the young members and the women group, generate money to fund activities, outreach missions, and the current improvements of the church building.

Name: Green Valley Prayer Centre Headquarters: N/A Estimated members: N/A Year church was built: N/A Branches: N/A Activities: N/A School: N/A Projects: N/A Income: N/A Member of SIFGA: N/A

Description: Location: Green Valley Unfortunately, it was not possible to collect any information about this church, because I could not find any reliable informant when I had the chance to visit it.

436

Name: Koa Hill Fellowship (UPC) Headquarters: UPC headquarters Estimated members: ≈ 50 Year church was built: 2012 Branches: UPC Network Activities: Standard School: No Projects: Church building extension Income: Self funded Member of SIFGA: Yes

Description: Location: Koa Hill Being the first and only Pentecostal church of the Koa Hill area, members of the local community (mainly Anglicans and Catholics), initially accused the pastor to be servicing the ‘debol’, as they associated glossolalia with ungodly practices. The church is still not very active, but it recently experienced a high rate of growth. In September 2012, 4 members of this church took part in a mission in Malaita, organized by the headquarters.

Name: New Methodist Christian Fellowship Headquarters: NMCF Suva, Fiji Estimated members: ≈ 10 Year group was created: 2011 Branches: None Activities: Fasting School: None Projects: Building a church in Burns Creek Income: Self-funded Member of SIFGA: No

Description: Location: Burns Creek This religious group is added following the categorization used by Newland (2011:1), who studied the birth (in 2000) and development of the New Methodist Christian Fellowship in Suva. This local group began its activities in 2011, following the invitation of pastor Bale, who came from Fiji to evangelize. At the moment, the congregation is still far from reaching the number of people and amount of money sufficient to build a church.

437

Name: House of Grace Headquarter: COC Headquarter Estimated members: ≈120 Year the group was created: 2009 Branches: None Activities: Standard + fasting School: No Projects: Building a church Income: Self-funded Member of SIFGA: Yes

Description: Location: Multi-purpose hall After pastor Edy Osifelo came back from Australia, where he attended a Bible College in Brisbane, he was asked by COC national coordinator, pastor Livae, to form the group. Finding it difficult to buy a plot of land where to build a church, he began with renting a room in the Multi-Purpose Hall, where normally sports are practiced. The service is on Sunday morning, whereas the weekly church activities take place in the houses of the members.

Name: Potter’s House Christian Fellowship Headquarters: The congregation itself Estimated members: ≈ 80 Year group was created: 2003 Branches: Auki (Malaita), G.Pol Activities: Standard School: None Projects: Shifting from mission to local church Income: Self-funded + funds from PHCF, US Member of SIFGA: No

Description: Location: The Potter’s House Christian Fellowship moved into its current location in 2010, after three years in another building rented further down the Mendana Avenue. The current pastor, Mel Montoya and his wife took charge of the congregation in May 2012.. They have experience as missionaries in other Pacific islands where they were sent by the PHCF Australian HQ in Perth. Mel believes that “what I’m doing works, because I saw it in other nations”.

438

Name: Solomon Islands Revival Fellowship Church Headquarters: The congregation itself Estimated members: ≈ 75 Year group was created: January 2012 Branches: None Activities: Standard School: None Projects: Build a church Income: Self-funded + funds from Australian RF Member of SIFGA: No

Description: Location: White River This congregation was initiated by Malaitan named Salvatore, a former Catholic. He was making and selling necklaces in PNG, when he was approached by two local members of the RFC of Port Moresby who proposed him to join their church. After becoming a member and being ‘blessed with provision’, Salvatore returned to Solomon Islands. This group meet up in different parts of Honiara, like Rove Police Station or the house of the pastor.

Name: The Redeemed Christian Church of God Headquarters: The church itself Estimated members: ≈100 Year the group was formed: 2010 Branches: Gpol Activities: Bible studies + faith clinic + power service School: No Projects: Build a church, a charity, a school Income: Self-funded + gifts from Melbourne Member of SIFGA: No

Description: Location: St. John School This church has branches in North Africa, Europe, Australia, and in many other parts of the world. The members gather in the St. John School, where strongly charismatic services are organized. Beside the standard activities, they also hold a ‘faith clinic’, which is intended to prevent cases of ‘backsliding’. The Power Service is another service that this church provides, involving the treatment of ‘special cases’ such as health and financial issues.

439

Name: Victory Family Centre Headquarters: Singapore Estimated members: ≈15 Year the group was formed: 2003 Branches: No Activities: School: None Projects: create branches in other provinces Income: Self-funded Member of SIFGA: No

Description: Location: Mbokona Community High School This congregation was created as part of the missionary activity of pastor Roy Chan, from Singapore. Today this connection is still strong, ! as the members are expected to send of !" their tithes to the headquarters. However, financial constraints make this impossible at the moment. Services take place in the Mbokona Community High School. Other activities are held mainly in the house of the current pastor and other members.

Name: Desert Ministry for Urban Drifters Headquarters: The Ministry itself Estimated members: ≈ 80 Year the group was formed: 2009 Branches: Auki, Gizo Activities: Sunday service and weekly ‘cell groups’ School: No Projects: Building a church Income: Self-funded Member of SIFGA: No

Description: Location: Solomon Islands Christian Association The group started as an NGO and continued as a faith-based organization in order to avoid the dangers of denominationalism as well as accusations of ‘sheep stealing’. Pr. George Tafoa’s mission of is to provide ‘holistic’ help to urban workers with training in financial skills, computer literacy, and psychological support. Beside the weekly Sunday service, this congregation operates in ‘cell groups’ in areas such as Koviloko and Zion.

440 APPENDIX J –TIME ALLOCATION

Table 1 Time allocation of an employed husband

h MON TUE WED THU FRI SAT SUN 6 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” 7 Commute Commute Commute Commute Commute “Sit” “Sit” 8 Work Work Work Work Work “Sit” Church 9 Work Work Work Work Work “Sit” Church 10 Work Work Work Work Work “Sit” Church 11 Work Work Work Work Work “Sit” Church 12 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” 13 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” 14 Work Work Work Work Work “Sit” “Sit” 15 Work Work Work Work Work Garden “Sit” 16 Work Work Work Work Work Garden “Sit” 17 Commute Commute Commute Commute Commute “Sit” “Sit” 18 “Sit” Garden “Sit” Garden “Sit” “Sit” Church 19 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” Church 20 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” Church 21 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” 22 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” 23 Sleep Sleep Sleep Sleep Sleep Sleep Sleep

Table 2 Time allocation of an employed wife

MON TUE WED THU FRI SAT SUN 6 Cooking Cooking Cooking Cooking Cooking Cooking “Sit” 7 Commute Commute Commute Commute Commute Commute Cooking 8 Work Work Work Work Work Work Cooking 9 Work Work Work Work Work Work Church 10 Work Work Work Work Work Work Church 11 Work Work Work Work Work Work Church 12 “Sit” Market “Sit” Market “Sit” Market Church 13 Market “Sit” Market “Sit” Market “Sit” “Sit” 14 Work Work Work Work Work Work “Sit” 15 Work Work Work Work Work Work “Sit” 16 Work Work Work Work Work Work Garden 17 Commute Commute Commute Commute Commute Commute Garden 18 Garden Washing Garden Washing Garden Washing Washing 19 Cooking Cooking Cooking Cooking Cooking Cooking Church 20 Washing “Sit” Washing “Sit” Washing “Sit” Cooking 21 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” 22 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” 23 Sleep Sleep Sleep Sleep Sleep Sleep Sleep

441 Table 3 Time allocation of an unemployed husband

MON TUE WED THU FRI SAT SUN 6 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” 7 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” 8 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” Church 9 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” Church 10 Work Work Work Work Work Work Church 11 Work Work Work Work Work Work Church 12 Work Work Work Work Work Work “Sit” 13 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” 14 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” 15 Work Work Work Work Work Work “Sit” 16 Work Work Work Work Work Work “Sit” 17 Garden Work Garden Work Garden Garden “Sit” 18 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” Garden Church 19 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” Church 20 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” Church 21 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” 22 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” 23 Sleep Sleep Sleep Sleep Sleep Sleep Sleep

Table 4 Time allocation of an employed wife

MON TUE WED THU FRI SAT SUN 6 Cooking Cooking Cooking Cooking Cooking Cooking “Sit” 7 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” Cooking 8 Work Washing Work Washing Work Washing Cooking 9 Work Work Work Work Work Work Church 10 Work Work Work Work Work Work Church 11 Work Work Work Work Work Work Church 12 “Sit” Market “Sit” Market “Sit” Market Church 13 Market “Sit” Market “Sit” Market “Sit” “Sit” 14 Work Work Work Work Work Work Garden 15 Work Work Work Work Work Work Garden 16 Work Garden Work Garden Work Garden “Sit” 17 Washing Garden Washing Garden Washing Garden Washing 18 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” Washing 19 Cooking Cooking Cooking Cooking Cooking Cooking Church 20 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” Cooking 21 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” 22 “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” “Sit” 23 Sleep Sleep Sleep Sleep Sleep Sleep Sleep * “Sit”, is the most common way of expressing the condition of having free time. During “sit”, one can take care of the house, play cards, smoke, chew betel nut, eat, wash clothes or dishes, etc.

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