Saturday, October 13, 2012

Tapa cloth

Kaeliann Hulett
       My boyfriend was born in Hawaii and each of his family members have a tapa cloth. My boyfriend calls his a "Kapa" cloth, wich is the more commonly used term in Hawaii, which translates to 'the' 'hit', as they literally beat the bark into cloth. Here is a picture of his mother's, which she said is specifically a Tahitian 'Tapa' cloth. Patterns and the decoration the Tapa is used for are unique to each place. In some places, such as Samoa, making Tapa is a majorly active form of art. Most of the Polynesian Pacific Tapa displays geometric designs, which has me wondering if her is Tahitian. The Tapa in Tonga is like a tapestry, where it depicts events in the designs. It plays a large role at the center of folk art, story, religion, and ritual.
      The designs of the Tapa can be very simple and archaic, to elaborate and profound. It seems as though design of the Tapa has been the most influenced aspect of the cloth by Europeans and Western Civilization. In Hawaii the Tapa, or Kapa, changed drastically in design and production method. Even though they brought the plants, tools, and methods from their founders of Tahiti and other pacific islands, over the next generations they changed it into something noticeably different. Artistically speaking, design elements were most likely influenced by things the islanders were familiar with and their personal interpretations of these items or events. It is thought that even the patterns on Western-introduced materials such as paisley and calico influenced later tapa design.
      Motifs of the sea, mountains, gods, and animals were all widely common, and they always seemed to vary in geometrical design. In freehand methods, repetitive linear patterns work best for covering the often extremely large tapa. Differences range from distinct and intricate stenciling, done in Fiji, to the illusive repetitive use of a bamboo stamp, in Hawaii, to delicate pressings of a fern dipped in dye on Tahitian Tapa. Making use of their surroundings seemed to be the general idea for making a Tapa.

            Here is the story in Pacific Passages that describes a brief cultural value behind the cloth:
"Because sharks save men in times of peril, protect them when other sharks try to devour them, and are useful in other ways in saving lives at sea and own the deep ocean, some people were made into shark 'aumakua, or guardian gods.' This process involved offering a deceased relative's body (or his or her bones wrapped in a tapa cloth) to a priest who would accept various payments in the form of pigs, tapa cloth, and 'Awa and would ensure the transfiguration from human to shark form over the course of a few days. As proof of the transfiguration, the shark would take on the physical attributes of the deceased relative (or the markings of the tapa in which the bones were wrapped) and would then be considered a family pet honored through daily food offerings." -William Westervelt Pg29


     Although, it is no where nearly as prevalent and popular today as it were a few hundred years ago, one can still find native women working on the tapa cloth in the same ways as their ancestors to this day. Though there is no way of knowing where and how the production and use of tapa began, the mulberry tree, a main source of the bark used to make tapa, was brought to the Pacific from Asia more than 3,000 years ago.
     The use of tapa became less prevalent by the 19th century when the more practical and readily available clothing such as cotton became available. Tapa making has been slowly reviving, claiming its cultural heritage by many islanders. One of the things that set Hawaiian Tapa, or Kapa, apart from all others in the pacific was the use of a very wide range of colors. Although the first Polynesians to Hawaii came with the raw plant materials and knowledge of how to make tapa, the time and distance away from Tahiti, Fiji, Tonga, and many other islands, produced a very different type of cloth, both in design and function; they created the "Kapa" cloth. The main use of bark was, and currently still is, for day-to-day and ceremonial clothing. It has been used for practical items such as shawls, loincloths, and headdresses. Tapa was also traded in the Pacific and used as a form of exchange with Europeans, especially during colonial times. Another one of it's uses was for household items, such as mats, room dividers, and mosquito netting. 
      A more important function of the Tapa was for burial shrouds, dowries, birthday's (which what each member of my boyfriend's family received one for), and special gifting. It has also been used as a symbol of status and wealth. The amount of decoration and style of apparel indicated rank and class. Upper-class Tahitians. for example, wore a shawl-like garment that covered their shoulders, while lower-classes wore a triangle around their waist exposing their shoulders. Men of Fiji wore longer tapa loin cloths; the shorter the length, the lower their rank. For these reasons, it might have even been considered royalty to wear more than one Tapa cloth.
      










treaty of reciprocity

King Kalākaua and members of the Reciprocity Commission

Free trade for Hawaii in the US market was obtainted by trading land to the US that ultimately ended up becoming Pearl Harbor...King Kalākaua (center) was criticized greatly for participating in this treaty.

Missionary Rhetoric


One aspect that I found especially interesting in Pacific Passages is the rhetoric surrounding swimming and surf-riding, specifically in the Missionary section. These accounts from missionaries tend to categorize the Hawaiian’s relationship to both the water and surfing as something purely playful or leisurely. These accounts seem to disregard any deeper significance that surf riding and the ocean itself most definitely exemplified to the native Hawaiians. For example, in his essay “Mission at the Sandwich Islands” (1822) Hiram Bingham makes an assumption about surf-riding, stating  that surfing was “a favorite amusement” (84) and a surf board as “…the instrument used in playing in the surf” (84). Although I have limited knowledge of the undoubtedly deep cultural ties for native Hawaiians to surf-riding, I suspect it is far more than just a “favorite amusement”.  Similar rhetoric can be found in William Ellis’ “Polynesian Researches” (1829) in which he refers to surf-riding and swimming as “…only some of the principle games, or amusements, of the natives” (92 and in W.S.W. Ruschenberger’s “Narrative of a Voyage Round the World” (1838) in which he discusses the missionaries influence on the disappearance of surf-riding, questioning, “Would these games have been suppressed had the missionaries never arrived at the islands?” (95).
            The significance of this language used to describe the native Hawaiian’s relationship to surf-riding, swimming, and the ocean is significant because of the undoubted acceptance of these missionary reports. Missionaries could, and did, get away with fabrication and alteration of many events, and no doubt surf-riding was one of them. By reducing surf-riding to nothing more than “amusement” or water play, the significance of the missionary suppression of this important social, cultural and religious practice is made to seem far less offensive, something  the missionaries surly wanted to achieve. We must always be aware of the original source of an account since the author has ultimate control over creating whatever illusion he or she desires – whether or not it is true.

Sarah Eastland 

Friday, October 12, 2012

Ruschenberger's Argument Against the Influence of the Missionaries

       From the "Narrative of a Voyage Round the World", we are able to grasp a further understanding of the toll the missionaries were taking on the surf-riding tradition the native's had. Not only was the tradition being suppressed, but also were the spirits of the Hawaiians. Ruschenberger points out how it is in the nature of the Natives to spend more of their time in the ocean than at work, "Now, simply desisting from labour is not rest, particularly in young subjects; people, to enjoy life, require more; they want amusement, without which they flag, the spirits drop, disease follows, and they drag on a miserable, misanthropic existence, till death closes the scene," (95). To further the Calvanistic influences, the Native Cheifs were taught by missionaries that if they were to continue to ride the waves like they do, they would be displeasing heaven directly themselves, and upsetting God, and which point the Natives had no choice but to consider "customs so hazardous to their vassals." I also find it interesting that the word "vassals" was specifically used here to describe the both the founders of the land whom brought surf riding with them, and to describe the new "founders" of the land; the missionaries.
      Ruschenberger goes on to compare the Hawaiian culture to that of Western Civilization; the working-for-worth society. Hawaii is nothing like the continent in its culture, ideologies, ethics, religion, and practices, "the practice in the middle and northern sections of the country, must not be taken as a rule, for there is perhaps no civilized people on earth, with the same opportunities, who spend so little time in sports and amusements...when the vivacity and elasticity of mind and body have already disappeared, and the organism is no longer sensible to pleasure" (95). It has been made very clear that the two cultures do not mesh, and cannot survive together, one would have to submit; the less aggressive greed driven culture of the Natives.

-Kaeliann Hulett

"When you’re itching for the waves, the only lotion is the ocean."


Jessica St. Martin:

Personally, I wanted to look at the specific words used in the “mele”, or chant, of Hono-kau-pu on page 28 of Pacific Passages in order to understand the Hawaiians’ mood associated with the ocean. Some of these words (translated into English) include mist, dear, friend, good, love, smooth, fine, games, lover, and belong. The calm and comforting adoration that the Hawaiian natives showed towards the sea is evident in the adjectives found in many ancient legends. There is a strong parallel between their connection to the ocean and the bond between lovers. I also took a look at page 44 and the chant written to commemorate the annual surfing festivals and competitions that took place between royalty. It states that, “Beloved is the wave of Kamoana, as it waves and beckons as if a loved one.” The feeling of freedom associated with surfing is written down as if recalling an exhilarating and youthful romance. The chant continues to say, “It is inviting your desires,” “Thrilled by the splendor that you see,” and “my longing for cannot be quenched.” Without a noun to specify the object of such endless desire, Hawaiian chants would take on an air of such romance and connection that one might question if it is directed towards a lover or the beauty of nature. However, I found it interesting to find another side to such fascination  balancing the native Hawaiians deep love and unquestionable respect held for the ocean. The chant on page 44 also states lines such as, “You constantly struggle for breath,” “The furious curl is what is loved,” and “the power and majesty of the sea.” There is no hint of fear or hesitation when the power of the ocean is spoken of, only an acknowledgement and deep appreciation of such terrible beauty.

I also found some of Tito’s Ancient Hawaiian Quotes from Rocket Power:
Ancient Hawaiians Say:
  •  Never drink milk from a coconut you have found in the dark
  •  Blood is thicker than water... but not as refreshing.
  •  Sometimes a bird sings. Sometimes, it coughs up a worm.
  • He who carves himself in stone, has rocks in his head.
  • Seagull who flies a crooked path has a tough time flying home.
  •       The coconut is always greener on a palm tree you can't reach.
  •  Lie about the size. I can see it in your eyes.
  • Sometimes a little bit of nothing means a whole lot of something.
  •       Fly the kite. It must not fly you.
  • When you’re itching for the waves, the only lotion is the ocean.
  • When the sea turtle retreats into its hardened shell, just give it time. It'll show up... especially with       some teriyaki barbecue chicken.
  • When surfers don't ride, potatoes ain't fried.
  • The best surfer is the one having the most fun.



Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Ocean Admiration




         One of the things I've found the most interesting in Pacific Passages so far is the amount of respect and admiration that the native Pacific Islanders show toward the ocean. One place in the text where I found this particularly evident is the story of “Ka-ehu”(the little yellow shark of Pearl Harbor.) According to Samuel Kamakau, “sharks, are useful in other ways in saving lives at sea and on the deep ocean, some people were made into shark ‘aumakua, or guardian gods.”(p29) In the story Ka-ehu learns of a man-eating shark that has been attacking surfers off the shore of Waikiki. Ka-ehu and a few of his shark friends trick this shark into getting stuck in a coral hole where he is then caught and killed by the people on the beach. I think it’s really interesting that within their culture the sea is considered such a thing of beauty and honor that they think of sharks as friends and honor them as gods and the guardians of men. 

         Sharks, generally from a western perspective are considered incredibly dangerous and frightening. It’s also common in the English language to refer to somebody who’s very cunning and deceiving as a shark. Shark's are not to be trusted. Obviously films like “Jaws” and ‘Open Water” have only furthered the western notion that sharks are a villain and a threat to all of mankind. The Hawaiian/Polynesian culture however seem to have no fear of the ocean or of any of its creatures.
         The Explorer’s journal entries are another spot in the text where the Pacific Islander’s sheer joy whilst being in the ocean is highlighted. William Anderson recalls watching a Tahitian man paddling his canoe so eagerly that Anderson assumed that the man had stole something from one of the boats. After Anderson realizes that the man is simply partaking in a type of canoe surfing known as ehorooe he’s astonished that the natives can obtain such bliss by simply riding the waves.  The fact that he assumes that the man has stole something is indicative of the western ideology that the ocean is a treacherous and unforgiving place and that the people who inhabit it are quite savage. In his journal he writes that the surfing gives the natives, “as much pleasure as skating, which is the only one of ours, with whose effect I could compare it.”(p66) The closest activity that Anderson could relate to the fun that the natives enjoyed in the ocean was that of ice-skating. The Anglo/American's felt much safter when the bottom off a boat or a sheet of solid ice was between them and the water, they didn't see the appeal of playing in it. 
-Alec Brooks

Isabella Bird & the Holiday-Making Hawaiians

One passage I found particularly fascinating can be found near the end of Isabella Bird's "The Hawaiian Archipelago" (pp. 120-122 in Pacific Passages). Bird, who has travelled to Hawaii in the face of a chronic illness, seems to find temporary respite from her sickness in enjoying the culture of Hawaii. However, despite the passage's seeming innocuousness, it carries many subtle hints of a more condescending Anglo-American delusion. Much like many of the other observers literature in this book, Bird's musings are dripping with fantastical representations of the Hawaiian lifestyle. In one particularly telling sentence, she depicts Hawaiian women swimming in the sea as "maidens...with garlands of flowers round their heads and throats" (Bird 121). On first glance, it appears that she is merely painting a lush and peaceful portrait of the women. But in using diction like "maidens," a thoroughly condescending term, and by casting them as these quasi-mermaid figures, Bird is establishing a stereotype. She is placing an admittedly subtle hegemonic structure around the figure of the Hawaiian female.

The final section of this passage concludes as such: "There was no toil, clang, or hurry. People were all holiday-making (if that can be where there is no work), and enjoying themselves, the surf-bathers in the sea, and hundreds of gaily-dressed men and women galloping on the beach. It was serene and tropical. I sympathize with those who eat the lotus, and remain for ever on such enchanted shores" (Bird 122). Again, Bird dramatically fantasizes over the Hawaii forever (dis)placed in her imagination. These "enchanted shores" are only magical because a white, Anglo woman has deemed it so. Instead of picking beneath the surface (or should I say the shore?), Bird pretends that the only concern of the island is this "holiday-making." She presents the citizens as glorified retirees with permanent smiles painted across their faces. In short, she assists in (mis)representing the island as an oasis, an Eden, a place of definite relaxation and free from all quotidian cares. She plays a role, as with many of the other visiters, in typifying the outsider's lust for the escapism that Hawaii seems to offer. But buried beneath the layers of sand, the oily paint coating of those surfing borads, the billowing waves of the surf, existed a whole underground of untapped sources, of more complicated histories, of conflict and suffering, of a culture engrained in a complicated story. But I guess it's easier to just kick back and observe the surf than to peel back the supposedly ideal surface of Hawaii's sandy coat.

-Jon Vorpe