Tuvalu

Earlier this year I read about a Japanese photographer that has taken on the project of photographing every member of the Tuvaluan population: both size and population-wise Tuvalu is one of the smallest countries in the world. Moreover, the country is under treat of submersion due to its extremely low elevation (the highest point is 5 metres above sea level): obviously we’ve been hearing about rising sea levels for a while. The photographer wants to capture this entire nation now, in case it becomes necessary for them to evacuate in the future. Evacuation? Most likely to New Zealand, Niue or the Fijian island of Kioa. These days, though, they’re still in Tuvalu. I hope they don’t have to give up their islands (capital: Funafati) too soon… In the mean time, let’s celebrate the 1 October 1978 independence of Tuvalu from the United Kingdom.

The islands of Tuvalu have been inhabited for about 3000 years, with settlers arriving from Tonga and Samoa. Historically 8 of the 9 islands that make up Tuvalu were inhabited, and that’s where the name comes from: it means “eight standing together.” If you want to add a little mystery, in 1986 the Caves of Nanumanga were discovered by divers. There was a local legend of a “large house under the sea” and, yes, scuba divers found the cave more than 40 metres down the wall of a coral cliff. Apparently dark patches on the cave’s walls and roof, as well as blackened coral fragments suggest the use of fire. Apparently there’s a scientific problem because the cave couldn’t have been used in the last 8000 year, due to what we know of sea levels—but other evidence points to occupation of that region of the pacific more recently than that. It’s a delightful mystery, though.

Even when Europeans did start careening around the Pacific, they didn’t stop in at Tuvalu too often—the surrounding atolls made it difficult to land, and no settlements were set up. It wasn’t until the second half of the 19th century that the London Missionary Society took it upon themselves to Christianise the Tuvaluans. Apparently this process was complete by the 1920s. I’m going to restrain myself on that.

While Tuvalu didn’t see any large-scale colonisation, it was the victim of blackbirding. Peruvian slave raiders came in the years from 1862-1864. Over 400 were taken—none returned. Blackbirding from the Pacific islands continued until the very start of the twentieth century—I’m ashamed that Australia, too, was guilty of blackbirding, and find it awful that I was never taught that in school.

As a British protectorate for most of the twentieth century, Tuvalu was known as the Ellice Islands, and grouped with the Gilbert Islands. In 1974, though, the Ellice islands voted for separated from the Gilbert Islands due to ethnic differences. The Gilberts became Kiribati, while, yes, the Ellices became Tuvalu.

Tuvalu has no military, and spends no money on military accoutrements. There is a police force. Australia gave it a Pacific-class patrol boat. That way, they can use it for maritime surveillance and fishery patrol.

Subsistence farming and fishing are pretty much the backbone of the nation, with most income coming from foreign aid—alongside they revenue they still get from their “.tv” internet domain name, which they leased, in 2000, for a 12-year period.

I had trouble finding a poem by a Tuvaluan poet, but I did find a piece by a poet of partly Tuvaluan descent. The author, Selina Tusitala Marsh writes of herself “Talofa lava. I am the daughter of Lina Vaelei Tusitala Crosbie and James Crosbie. I am of Samoan, Tuvaluan, English, Scottish and French descent.” I found the poem online here.

‘dancing pili’ (for Lemi Ponifasio)

sipping bitter ava swooped before hesitant hands 

fa’afetai tele lava – may God bless Mau 

and those who partake in their creativity 

appropriate solemnity spotlight 

highlight this performance within performance 

cupped with both hands 

shell to mouth 

eyes and eyes and eyes 

rank and recognition 

a Herald article, Samoa Observer, Samoa Times 

Gulf News and Waiheke Weekly 

rank and recognition and eyes and eyes and eyes 

she only half knows

but Carol Hirshfield doesn’t believe in half and part 

‘afa’ mirrored in ava 

I am Maori Hirshfield stated 

Its like being a little pregnant – you can’t 

quoted the Herald 

‘afa’ in ava 

like siva except steps are copied not known 

and hands mimic borrowed stories 

stiffness a traitor 

like a pili caught in head lights 

white powder crouched man 

naked in knowing 

half wall crawl of black 

jet engine noises drum in foreign in primal meaning 

caved water droplets hollowing sound 

mau dancers slow dance and sweat as 

suited puppet natives jerk their siva too 

others march in blue and white mau lavalava 

white shirt curt hands stands attention 

to Master’s voice 

Lemi’s leading and pili’s pleading ignorance of this dance of death 

of life of light of paradise

the ceremony ends 

centred ava bowl moves into shadows
spotlight dims

she has a pili dancing in her heart


—Selina Tusitala Marsh