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Selling Is Poverty, Buying a Shame: Representations of Work, Effective Leadership and

Market Failures on Wallis


Author(s): Paul van der Grijp
Source: Oceania , Sep., 2002, Vol. 73, No. 1 (Sep., 2002), pp. 17-34
Published by: Wiley on behalf of Oceania Publications, University of Sydney

Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/40331869

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Oceania

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Selling is Poverty, Buying a Shame:
Representations of Work, Effective Leadership
and Market Failures on Wallis

Paul van der Grijp


Università de Provence

ABSTRACT

This paper seeks to answer the question why there is no central market on the Polynesian
island Wallis, and relates the answer to indigenous representations of work and to cultural
constraints on leadership. The title of this paper - Selling is Poverty, Buying a Shame -
contains the answer in a nutshell, requires contextualisation in relation to the main cultural,
socioeconomic and political features of the society on this island. More specifically, it raises
the following questions: What do we mean when we speak about a market? Have there been
markets in the past? Are there (other) market-like structures today? And what do we mean
by representations of work?

Ergon d'ouden oneidos, aèrgiè de fornidos (Hesiod: Opera et dies 311),


i.e. work is not a disgrace, it is idleness which is a disgrace.

In a research proposal on work and its representations, Maurice Godelier reminds us that w
such as 'work', 'to work' and 'workers' have different meanings in different historical pe
and cultures. The ancient Greeks, for example, did not have a term to indicate work-in-gen
but used ponos for painful activity, and ergon for tasks in the domains of agriculture and
fare. They used verbs such as poein for to-do and protein for to-make or to-act (cf. the
contemporary concept of praxis). In ancient and medieval China, another example, lao wa
word for both the intellectual and manual work of the ruling class and the class of peasants
diers. As in ancient Greece, the Chinese peasants were also warriors, but they did not l
cities and had no citizen rights. All these kinds of work (lao) were intensive and difficul
honorable. In contrast to lao, the Chinese word ch'in indicated the work of artisans and
chants, and presupposed skill and patience in order to create artificial goods, which were
considered especially deserving or meritorious. All female activities belonged to the cate
ch'in, and were thus without particular merit or honor (Godelier 1980:171-173). The Pol
sian society on Wallis Island ('Uvea) shares such gender based distribution of forms of wo
distinction is made between male and female work in terms of gaue a te tagata and gau
fafine or, shorter, gaue fakatagata and gaue fakaf afine . The principal tasks for Wallisian
are the production of food in the form of root crops, pigs and seafood (fish), whereas w
produce tapa and mats. Aside from this, some men engage in politics (chieftaincy), whe
most women give birth to children, care for them as well as for the household. For the last
and a half centuries, (local) warfare is past history, or is transformed into the performan
war dances accompanied by songs in which maleness is expressed in a dramatic way. Both
and women are implicated in formal as well as informal gift-giving, although the most for
presentations and discourses, usually around a kava bowl, are executed by men.

Oceania 73 ,2002 17

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Selling is Poverty, Buying a Shame

POLYNESIAN FEATURES AND RESTRICTED FRENCH CAPITALISM

Wallis is an island of 23 square miles to the north of Fiji and west of Tonga and Sam
present, 9,500 people live on Wallis (INSEE/ITSEE 1996:1), whose original, Poly
name is 'Uvea. In 1888, Wallis obtained the status of a French protectorate and, in 1
that of a French overseas territory (Territoire dy Outre-Mer) . With this, the politic
imposed from the outside with the island of Futuna (at 230 km distance and with 4
inhabitants) became a fact. These are, however, two distinct Polynesian societies wit
fering cultures (Burrows 1936, 1937). At present, Wallis is still part and parcel of the
seas territory of Wallis-and-Futuna, a French variant of American Samoa, since 190
unincorporated territory of the USA and also to be found in Western Polynesia. We s
add here that, for France, the political-economic interest in the territory of Wallis-an
na is relatively small compared to the two other French overseas territories in the Pa
French Polynesia and New Caledonia. Apparently, however, such interests exis
Aldrich 1993; Chesneaux 1991; De Deckker and Lagayette 1987; Guillebaud 1976
ningham 1992; Laux 2000; Rensch 1983; Roux 1995). Apart from the typically Polyn
political-juridical system of chieftaincy, Wallisians as well as Futunans participate in
mentary politics and there exists a form of French administration of justice (droìt com
parallel to the Wallisian one (droit coutumier) (see Aimot 1995, Trouilhet-Tam
Simete 1995).
The Wallisian version of Polynesian identity or, in short, Wallisian identity, is com-
posed of a specific socioeconomic, political and ideological system which, analogous to
the situation in other western-Polynesian societies such as Tonga, Futuna, Samoa and
Rotuma, may be defined as a configuration of the following four features: (1) a para-
mount chieftainship and corresponding system of asymmetrical ideology based on the
mana-taboo complex; (2) the dominant role of cognatic kinship in the social relations of
production, distribution and politics; (3) a form of land ownership which is structured by
principles of both chieftainship and (cognatic) kinship; (4) a subsistence-, barter- and gift
economy in which pigs, root crops, seafood, kava, mats and tapa play a predominant part
(Van der Grijp 2001 and n.d.a). Typically Wallisian social process is not the incidental co-
occurrence of these four features, but its combination (configuration). Wallisian identity
has both material dimensions (e.g. production) and ideational dimensions (ideas, values,
norms, etc.). In spite of the changes in the above mentioned features throughout the
course of history, they still form the nucleus of the identity of Wallisian society. The para-
mount chief (or sau) Lavelua, for example, is assisted by several other chiefs such as the
council of six high chiefs (kau 'aliki), three district chiefs (faipule) and about 20 village
chiefs (pule kolo). Many Europeans - English and French speaking alike - mistakenly
call this paramount chief 'king' (or 'roi'). Unlike Tonga, however, in Wallis a Western
style state formation process never took place, with a king as head of state. At the end of
the 19th century, the Roman Catholic mission introduced a constitution prohibiting
among other matters the selling of land. Land tenure at present is still exclusively con-
trolled by Wallisian kin groups and chiefs, this is also the case on Futuna (see Panoff
1970), Tonga (Van der Grijp 1993), Samoa (O'Meara 1990) and Rotuma (Howard 1964;
Rensel 1994). On Wallis (and Futuna) a land-register is non-existent. The French admin-
istration tries to maintain control over the indigenous political system through subsidies
to the Wallisian chieftainship as a whole (under the label 'circonscription') as well as
through monthly allowances to the different chiefs. In December 2000, the monthly
allowance for the Lavelua was 200,000 CFP, for his ministers ('aliki) 100,000 CFP, and
for the village heads (pule kolo) 46,000 CFP (18 CFP equals 1 French franc, and 67 CFP
would be about 1 Australian dollar).1 Recently, the village heads had asked for a rise in
their allowance, but the Lavelua disagreed with their claim because it would make them
over dependent on the French administration.

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van der Grijp

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Map 1 : Wallis Island

Wallis has a large lagoon, and combines the ecological features of a volcanic island
with an atoll (see Map 1). The fertile and flat land is easily accessible. There are large fish-
ing grounds around and there is rich agricultural diversity. For a long time, the monetary
economic resources of the islanders remained limited to the production of copra, bought and
exported by Western traders. In 1930, with the rhinoceros parasite, copra production came
to an end. In 1942, during World War II, Wallis became an important military base with

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Selling is Poverty, Buying a Shame

more than 6,000 American soldiers, i.e. more than the local population. Part of the popula-
tion was engaged in the construction of roads and an airstrip, and was paid in American dol-
lars.2 At about this time, the first Wallisian emigrants left for New Caledonia in order to
work in the booming war industry. In 1944, the Americans left Wallis and the brief mone-
tary economic boom collapsed. Until the mid 20th century, apart from the American experi-
ence, Wallis was almost autosubsistent, with a minimal copra export and a few salaried
administrators and teachers at the mission schools (Pollock 1990). Efforts to grow cotton
and cacao for commercial purposes, were a complete failure. In 1957 came the first regular
flights to Noumea. At the end of the 1960s with mass emigration to New Caledonia where
many Wallisians went to work in the nickel industry, the island gradually became integrated
into a monetary and global economy, and the islanders learned to appreciate a correspond-
ing pattern of consumerism (Likuvalu 1988). Besides the combined subsistence-, barter-
and gift economy there exists a French oriented (and protected) form of capitalism which,
however, is strongly impeded in its development by the unsaleability of Wallisian land, pri-
vate property as a means of production being one of the basic characteristics of capitalism.
At present, however, with increasing French influence, and also because of the growing
number of Wallisians receiving a salary from the French government (growing middle class
consumerism), the economic orientation on Wallis is rapidly changing. It is still not permit-
ted to sell land, but money - also in its invisible and intangible forms - becomes increas-
ingly more important on Wallis, both within and outside the local subsistence-, baiter- and
gift economy. Among Wallisians, there is growing demand for cars, concrete houses, appli-
ances and other attributes of the global economy. According to a recent report published by
the 'Service des Affaires Economiques et du Développement' (Anon. 1998), an important
and alarming percentage of Wallisians and Futunans are deeply in debt. The French admin-
istration became the largest employer - work for the French government is called in Wal-
lisian gaue i te pule aga. At present, in addition to the distinction between male and female
work, a distinction is made between work in the European way (gaue fakapapalagi) and
work in the (traditional) Wallisian way (gaue fakafenud). The latter distinction within the
dual economy is also expressed in terms of wage labor (gaue pa' aga) and work on the land
(gaue kele), comparable with a similar distinction between money work ('ohipa moni) and
farming work ('ohipa fa' apu) on Tahiti (Finney 1988:196-197). A major difference
between gaue pa' aga and gaue kele is that wage workers receive a salary at the end of the
month, and the others not. Work on the land (gaue kele) concerns mainly men, without
excluding women, because they too work on the land, e.g. producing tapa trees (tutu). How-
ever, it is the men who till and plant the soil, raise pigs, go out fishing, and make the earth
oven ('umu) (see Chave-Dartoen 1996). The principal women's tasks are caring for children
and the home, beating bark cloth (tapa), and weaving mats (see Weiner 1989).
Thus, on Wallis a distinction is made between work on the land and salaried labor.
There are, however, also mixtures. Someone with a regular job, for example, may engage a
wage laborer for two days a week to work on his land. The usual remuneration for this is
2,500 CFP per day.3 This mixture of wage labor on the land, of gaue kele and gaue pa' aga,
is current. Usually, people with a regular salary have not enough time to work on the land
themselves, but nevertheless have land and money. Workers on the land who sell their labor
in this way, often do so for different employers. In this way they may even claim a loan
from the bank.4
Most adult Wallisian men breed pigs, an activity which confirms their male identity.
Some, however, do not and the lack of pigs will incur debts during family feasts or large,
chiefly organized (and often church oriented) food distribution ceremonies (katoaga).
When there is a katoaga, everybody, or at least almost everybody goes looking for pigs
(Douaire-Marsaudon 1998; Pechberty 1998). A very large pig (puaka toho) may cost up to
300,000 CFP.5 There exists an informal market for root crops too. Yams ('ufi), for exam-
ple, are sold per basket of plaited coconut leaves (polapola) for 300 to 400 CFP per kilo,

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van der Grijp

depending on the kind of yams. When there is a feast or ceremony and a man has not suffi-
cient yams, he would buy them from more productive growers. We estimate that there is as
much money circulating in the informal market of pigs and root crops, i.e. the products of
men's work, as in that of tapa and mats, products of women's work. A roll of tapa (tekumi)
costs 200,000 CFP. An appropriate gift by a woman consists of a length of tapa and a mat.
When a woman does not have tapa or a mat, she might give one of the two, but this would
be considered as incomplete. A length of tapa plus a mat is called koloafafine, pigs and
(other) agrarian products are koloa tagata.6 Where gifts are concerned, there is no hierar-
chy between the koloa of women and those of men, solely complementarity. At the begin-
ning of this paper, we referred to the ancient and medieval Chinese distinction between
lao, i.e. honorable, intellectual and manual work by both the men of the ruling class and
peasant-soldiers, and ch'in, i.e. not-particularly deserving or meritorious work of artisans
and merchants and all female tasks. In contrast to this Chinese distinction, the Wallisian
men's work and women's work are both honorable and meritorious, as long as the work is
done by men or women respectively. A woman, for example, who is obliged to work the
land, is not highly estimated.7 The latter observation is important for understanding the
failure of the central market.8

THE CENTRAL MARKET IN THREE EPISODES

The history of Wallis records three efforts to create a central market: in 1976, 1980 and
1987. In 1976, the director of the agricultural department of the French administration, Jean
Michon, inaugurated a market which lasted only two weeks. For sale were mainly products
of women's work such as tapa and mats, but also of men's work such as root crops and pigs.
Previously, Michon had been active in stimulating and distributing female handicrafts. In
1970, he had started to work on Wallis in the agricultural department (Service de V Agricul-
ture). His predecessors were agronomists who stimulated the production of pepper, coffee
and other tropical cash crops, technically speaking successful, but not culturally so. The
Wallisian soil was suited to an excellent quality of pepper, and New Zealand was willing to
buy, but Wallisian men were not willing to harvest pepper grains while sitting back on their
haunches, because they viewed this as women's work. They preferred the cultivation of
large root crops, which presupposes strength and knowledge, and eradicated all pepper
shrubs throughout Wallis and planted giant taro (kape) and yams ('ufi) instead. Jean
Michon: 'We had to take logical steps after these well-intentioned efforts of good techni-
cians who didn't succeed in exporting any pepper. But we also had to think about the
women and, then, we planted tapa trees on the old terraces of the villages' (pers. com.
16-1-1989). Initially, planting tapa trees (tutu) did not result in problems with the (male)
Wallisian employees of the agricultural department because it was a large-scale project. Ten
tapa trees behind a house (fale) would have been women's work, but four hectares between
the volcanic rocks in the ancient villages in Muli appeared interesting. In several villages,
also on Futuna, Michon founded cooperatives (kautahi) for manufacturing and selling
female handicrafts, bark cloth (tapa) in particular. This system presupposed a new type of
management, which contrasted with the traditional Wallisian form of barter. Tapa was also
sold in Noumea. On the reverse side of the tapa the name of the producer and its price was
inscribed, and the proceeds sent to Wallis by diplomatic mail. Michon handed over the
money to the women, who distributed it among themselves:

This distribution was accompanied by much discussion, but there were never real
problems apart from the men with whom I worked, who claimed a percentage of
the proceeds. They said: "We plant the tapa trees and those women keep all the
money." The men, however, received salaries from the agricultural department and
not the women (ibid.).

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Selling is Poverty, Buying a Shame

In 1977, Michon re-launched the market, which this time lasted a month (see full dis-
cussion of failure in next section). This market too was held in buildings of corrugated iron
which, when the experiment failed, were demolished. Michon's successors, French develop-
ment workers, did not continue this tradition because for them it was 'not sufficiently tech-
nical' and adapted to their idea of development 'progress'. The fact is that Jean Michon's
well-balanced leadership gave a new impetus to the fabric and commercialization of female
handicrafts, but with his retirement, the first development of a central market on the island
came to an end.9
A second episode may be cited from 1980. The French territory had instituted a devel-
opment project to be signed by Giscard d'Estaing, who visited Wallis in 1979. The follow-
ing years, this project was realized in the form of a large j ale, an oval building measuring
22 by 11 meters in the village of Aka'aka constructed under the supervision of Soane-Pati-
ta Lakina, a traditional woodcarver. The aim of this/a/e was to reorganize manufacturing
in Wallis and Futuna and to stimulate the commercialization of its products. In 1980, via a
kava ceremony the j ale was inaugurated by the Groupement d' Inter et Economique (GIE)
Ta'ofima'u, i.e. 'to safeguard as it should be'. This promising initiative by local handicraft
groups supported by village chiefs and the French administration did not last long. In the
middle of the 1980s, parallel to the GIE Ta'ofima'u and instigated by the South Pacific
Commission an association of women of Wallis and Futuna was founded. Within this asso-
ciation rivalry existed between Rassemblement Pour la République (RPR) and Union pour
la Democratic Francaise (UDF) women - at the time there were no socialists. The rising
youth in the Giscard d'Estaing mode was organized in the UDF, whilst the RPR was the
right-wing party of the influential local trader and politician Benjamin Brial. In the
women's association, which was linked to the South Pacific Commission, the UDF women
held the majority.10 The re-election of the RPR candidate Brial in 1986, which coincided
with the 25th birthday of the territory, resulted in a certain triumphalism in which the foun-
dation of a museum, of cultural centers in all the districts and the re-launching of a central
market were proclaimed. This also implied the idea that RPR women did not wish to coop-
erate any longer with UDF women. The RPR preferred constructing a concrete building
close to the j ale in Aka'aka especially for the association of RPR women of Wallis and
Futuna.11 Their next president was Esitela Lakalaka, an outspoken RPR woman. Between
1986 and 1990, there were associative and (RPR) political meetings in this new building,
but no exhibitions of handicrafts. If this could be called a market experiment, it was a
complete failure. Also, no cultural centers or museums were ever founded on Wallis and
Futuna.
In June 1987, the Wallisian cultural department (Service Territoriale des Affaires Cul-
turelles) co-organized with woodcarvers such as Soane-Patita Lakina and Soane Hoatau an
exhibition of Wallisian and Futunan art and handicrafts in the cultural center Kowekara in
Noumea. After this, President Flosse, in charge of francophony in the Pacific, paid a visit to
Wallis. There was a parade in front of the palace, and a ceremonial lunch with 500 people in
honor of Flosse, his ministers, and the territorial council of Wallis and Futuna (Assemblee
Territoriale) on the grounds of the fale in Aka'aka built in 1980. In this large fale was an
exhibition and several smaller stands were constructed on the premises. After the feast, the
group around Soane-Patita Lakina decided to re-launch the market in order to create a
source of income for Wallisians without salaried jobs.12 This was the third episode, and also
the most successful one. The large fale in Aka'aka had been empty for a number of years.
Soane Hoatau took on the role of market superintendent and divided the fale in three, corre-
sponding to the three districts of the island: one part for the sellers from Hihifo, another for
Hahake, and a part for Mu'a.
In the beginning, the market was held twice weekly, on Saturdays and Sundays and,
when the market appeared to be running well, Wednesdays were added to this. Initially,
there were ten stalls, later 25, which were placed also outside the large fale. The most suc-

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van der Grijp

cessful sellers had a turnover of about 100,000 CFP per week. In particular on Sunday
morning the sellers came with food cooked in earth ovens {'umu) which also turned out to
be good merchandise. The market was only for local products. When a regular seller had
sold all his goods, he was obliged to buy goods from others in order to sell these, if not
commerce would stop for him. Kusitino Toa, for example, one of the market vendors, had
an old pickup truck, and farmers from Vailala and the neighboring village of Vaitupu came
over to him with their products.13 They would be ashamed to sell the products themselves,
and wanted Kusitino to do this for them. They arrived at 5 AM and shared expenses, hand-
ing him 200 CFP for petrol for example. Kusitino employed two sales women. Usually, he
returned at 11 AM, at which time the farmers were waiting for him in front of his house in
order to be paid for what he had been able to sell for them. There used to be a crowd around
his house at such times. It was profitable for both parties but, time and time again, he had to
explain to them how the market system worked (pers. com. 8-2-2001).
The Wallisian market superintendent Soane Hoatau exacted from his sellers a disci-
pline of quality, quantity, and a maximum price. He could mark down the price of pork
from 1,000 to 800 CFP per kilo and, later, even to 600 CFP. Soane: 'In the beginning this
was difficult, but ultimately the producers preferred to liquidate their pigs' (pers. com.
19-12-2000). He could mark down the price per kilo of taro and yams from 800 to 300
CFP. He fixed the price of smaller fish (i.e. smaller than 20 cm) at 300 CFP per kilo and that
of larger fish at 400 CFP. He reduced the price of 5 kilo bags of rice, which cost 500 CFP in
the shops, to 400 CFP. In cooked and baked {'umu) food he forbade imported industrial
products such as deep-frozen chicken and noodles. The market, as he explained, was not
there to support the regular shops.
Twice a week after the market Soane organized a meeting (fono) with the sellers and
said to them, for example: Today, this product was sold for this price, but I don't agree
because the quality is lacking.' He also discussed cooked food not being well done.14 Thus,
giving the sellers a lesson which was usually well understood. Some, however, believed that
he proceeded too fast. A local politician, for example, who had himself direct interests in
local commerce, asked him in public the pertinent question: 'Who determined those maxi-
mum prices and by what right?' Soane's answer: 'I did that and my criteria is the quality of
the goods.' Soane Hoatau also made efforts to improve the market building and extend it.
He continued for one-and-a-half years but, by the end of 1988, passed on his role as market
superintendent to a market seller who excelled for some time, Kusitino Toa, who also con-
tinued for a year and a half, after which the central market ceased definitively.15

FAILURES OF THE CENTRAL MARKET

In this section, we try to answer the question why these three efforts failed. During the first
market effort, the initiative of Jean Michon in 1976-77, Wallisians came with their produce
to the market, but were not yet ready for the system. When they arrived with two baskets
(polapola) with agricultural produce in the morning, they were afraid that others would
ridicule them because their produce was not the best. When they did not sell their produce,
they were not pleased and, again, feared being made fun of. Potential buyers too feared
being ridiculed because buying implied that they could not cultivate the produce on their
own plantation. It was a matter of embarrassment (matagafua). A farmer from this period:
'I felt embarrassed when I didn't sell my produce, and also when I bought items myself
because, then, I demonstrated that I hadn't the land or that I wouldn't work on it. In both
cases I didn't meet the norms.' Another: 'I felt awkward when I was obliged to buy manioc
because I didn't cultivate it myself. This, indeed, was strange. We had to get used to a dif-
ferent way of thinking.' A third: 'In the past, we gave, we took, and we reciprocated in
other ways, but we never sold' (pers. com. 8-12-2000). Soane Hoatau, who played a cen-
tral role in the third market experiment, looks back:

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Selling is Poverty, Buying a Shame

At the time, selling was a sign of poverty and buying a sign of laziness. A Wal-
lisian man had to breed his own pigs, cultivate his own taro and yams, and catch
his own fish. As well as this, he had to have his own money and shouldn't ask for
this elsewhere, that would be considered dishonorable. Jean Michon had underesti-
mated the Wallisian mentality (pers. com. 19-12-2000).

Michon's organizing activities, however, were of importance because he laid the basis for
later efforts in this direction, including the ones by Soane Hoatau. The second market
experiment, the Groupement d'Intérèt Economique Ta'ofima'u in 1980, failed because the
persons in charge appeared to be incompetent. Siole Pilioko, the director of the Service Ter-
ritorial d' Affaires Culturelles:

Ta'ofima'u was managed by nuns, who added St Joseph as patron saint to the
name. In the villages, the nuns bought tapa and mats in order to help 'poor fami-
lies'. These products, however, were often of inferior quality and appeared to be
unsaleable. There were exhibitions, there was a familiar, not a commercial spirit,
and no marketing. At the end of the year they were left with all the unsold com-
modities (pers. com. 29-12-2000).

Concerning the initiative of the Association Of Women of Wallis and Futuna in 1986 Siole
Pilioko says: 'This evidently was a political group, whilst they knew very well that one
shouldn't have party politics in this kind of organization' (ibid.). Although this initiative
resulted in the construction of a building, there was no actual market activity due to, as we
may conclude, ineffective leadership.
From the outset, the third market effort, in 1987, was interpreted in political terms, but
here at least one may speak of a real market. A market, indeed, is not a politically neutral
institution, as has been noted by others: 'It is a socially constructed, politically maintained
institution functioning according to rules stemming from collective decision-making. The
values it reflects are culturally specific, not naturally given' (Apostle et al. 1998:342). At
the time, Soane's brother Mika Hoatau was in opposition, and the senator, Benjamin Brial,
believed that the market project had political motivation supporting Soane's brother, his
political rival. Brial blocked all government aid. From the start, Soane was motivated by the
fact that he was president of Fimalie, the Association des Sculpteurs de Wallis- Futuna, but
in the end he was unable longer to produce woodcarvings, because he spent all his time in
the market. Another problem was that he did not wish to continue as a volunteer. The mar-
ket project had never been subsidized by the French administration and as a market superin-
tendent Soane Hoatau received no payment. He was the one who introduced a market toll of
500 CFP per stall per day. Not everybody agreed with this and he was sharply criticized.
For some stalls he received money, for others he was paid in remainders of unsold goods
but, as he sighs now, what should he do with the contents of two earth ovens ( 'umu) per day ?
It cost him more money than he earned. Once he saw that the market worked, he decided to
leave in order to 'concentrate on his family', in other words to mind his own business.
On the market, Kusitino Toa, Soane Hoatau's successor as market superintendent, saw
that the sellers were not happy with the market toll introduced by Soane, and he never asked
for the market toll himself. Soane Hoatau said that he made ends meet for maintenance, but
the sellers were not willing to pay for this any longer, they did not see it as reasonable.
According to them, the market fale belonged to everybody. Soane Hoatau is rather critical
about his successor:

Kusitino Toa owned a car and motivated his own producers from (the northern dis-
trict of) Hihifo. Due to his market activities he was appointed conseiller
territorial. His producers and buyers belonged to his electorate. On the market,

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however, he sectorized his own corner. He didn't deal with people from the two
other districts, Mu'a and Hahake (pers. com. 19-12-2000).

At the time, Kusitino Toa was still timid, according to Soane, and was not at ease in playing
the authoritative role of market superintendent in this difficult inaugural period - although,
later, he would be promoted to village chief and high chief (see Te Ferma Fo'ou 2000c).
Sioli Pilioko: 'Soane visited the people, Kusitino didn't do so. In the end, the market
declined because the sellers had nothing left to sell' (pers. com. 29-12-2000). In the village
of Vailala, for example, there were only about ten producers who supplied Kusitino with
goods. At the market there were too many buyers for the small number of sellers. Moreover,
when they saw that the market was a success, many producers started a sales point in their
own village, which reduced the supply to the market. In Mata'utu, the priest Tornasi com-
menced selling agricultural products on the premises of the Roman Catholic mission. All
this undermined the central market. In 1990, the tropical cyclone Ofa destroyed the roof of
the market fale, which meant the end of this third and last central market experiment to
date. In actual fact, however, the market (place) hardly functioned any more. Now and
again, Kusitino Toa carne with some sympathizers to occupy one or two stalls. At the same
time, the recently elected senator Kamilo Gata launched his Groupements d' Inter et
Economique in the three districts. Thus, the idea of a central market was translated to - or:
recontextualized into - the districts.

COOPERATIVES AND OTHER MARKET EXPERIENCES

There are, however, other forms of market experiences which do not necessarily presup-
pose a central market. In this section we will give examples of a fair, of cooperatives (kau-
tahi) and semi-cooperatives which are known in Wallis by the name (and have the corre-
sponding legal status of) Groupements d'lnteret Economique. In 1996, Savelina Tuifua,
the later owner of a successful fish shop, stood with a fish stall next to the post office,
where she sold fish from the spit, fish with fried breadfruit, fish salad, and all kinds of
other fish products. This happened on the occasion of the (French) national holiday, the
14th of July which, on Wallis, used to be prolonged until the holiday of the territory of
Wallis and Futuna on 29 July. The stall was open day and night. They were four couples:
Savelina and her husband Sosefo, and three other fishermen with their wives. Savelina also
engaged her younger brother to shred coconut meat for the fish salad, while the other men
went out fishing. After having paid the costs, they were left with 1 million CFP, i.e.
120,000 per person.16 Savelina: That was worthwhile. It was also a way to show those
three other couples that they weren't obliged to be salaried in order to earn money. In addi-
tion, it was a way of making publicity for our fishing group' (pers. com. 21-12-2000).
Savelina and her group of fishermen and women were not the first to have a stall. The fair
had existed already for ten years. The other six stall holders that year, however, were regu-
lar shop owners who supplemented their turnover with a stall once a year and sold mainly
beer and sandwiches.
Later, Savelina started a small fish shop where she sold her husband's catch and that of
three other fishermen. Savelina was aware that her own small fishing group by itself would
be insufficient as a basis for a viable fish shop which legitimizes the acquisition of expen-
sive appliances. She explained to her four fishermen (tagata gelu) that she also needed to
buy fish from elsewhere. They did not agree, but Savelina pursued her project. She con-
vened all the fishermen of Hahake, the central district of Wallis, in order to discuss with
them the project of a common outlet for fish in the form of a Groupement dy Inter et
Economique (GIE), a kind of cooperative or joint venture for which she proposed the name
Sifisifi, a fish species. In Hahake, there were ten groups with a total of about 100 fishermen.
During a general meeting in 1995, they agreed on the acquisition of a cold store and an ice

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Selling is Poverty, Buying a Shame

machine, but it was unclear who would finance these. Every group had to sign a contract
and pay 10,000 CFP towards the material. She obtained the signatures from three groups
only. During six months, she received monthly contributions but, after a year, Savelina's
own fishing group was the only one to continue paying money regularly. Meanwhile, the
construction of the shop continued. The carpenter-bricklayer received what he asked for,
one time a pig, another time a fine mat. Savelina: 'Finally, I repaid the other groups their
money. In so doing, matters were clear, and they weren't even displeased with it' (pers.
com. 21-12-2000). It also meant the end of the fishing cooperative (kautahi tagata gelu) in
Hahake. Savelina continued with her own group of Sosefo and the three other fishermen
and started a successful fish shop (see Van der Grijp n.d.b).
In the previous sections, we mentioned Kusitino Toa, who had a stall at the central
market and, later, became the market superintendent. After his market experience, in 1991,
Kusitino founded a cooperative of fishermen {kautahi tagata gelu). For this, he built a sales
outlet in the form of a traditional house (fale) on the seafront of the northern village of
Vailala - he was still a member of the territorial council. At the time, the fishing coopera-
tive was still the only one in the territory. Initially, each of the 20 fishermen of the coopera-
tive paid 10,000 CFP as entrance fee, not in cash but in kind:

In the beginning, we went out fishing in order to sell the fish without receiving
direct payment ourselves. In this way, the cooperative was triggered off. We
bought five freezers of 600 liters each. Moreover, we had a display case, the only
one in the territory. The Fisheries Department (Service de Peche) of the French
administration appeared to be interested in our initiative - although they never
came over to see us - and advised us to adopt the fishing techniques promoted by
the South Pacific Commission. However, we didn't want to fish in the open, out-
side the barrier reef, because we hadn't the right equipment for doing so (pers.
com. Kusitino Toa, 8-2-200 1).17

The fishermen of the cooperative had a large outrigger canoe (kalia), fished in a traditional
manner with nets and caught about 350 kilo of fish a day on average. To begin with, Kusiti-
no was in charge of selling and thus had a small capital to pay the other fishermen after
each fishing expedition straight away. They received 500 CFP per kilo. Included in the sell-
ing price was a small profit of 50 CFP per kilo to pay for the electricity of the freezers and
other costs. For two years, the cooperative had a monthly turnover of almost ten tons of
fish, i.e. 66 million CFP per year. The many other cooperatives which opened in their wake,
however, caused too much competition (Kusitino: 'When you have a successful affair on
Wallis, everybody will copy it. That's the problem'). During the elections in 1992, several
local politicians claimed responsibility for the existence of one or other cooperative, which
did much damage to the cooperatives according to Kusitino. For selling the fish, he had
recruited a young man who had to be paid, the electricity bill was rising all the time, and
there were high maintenance costs for the boat engine. All these factors made Kusitino and
his colleagues decide to put an end to the cooperative. Among the fishermen in Kusitino's
cooperative there was not one salaried person in contrast to, for example, the cooperative
Moa-Folau (see next section), which unites almost all civil servants of the northern district
of Hihifo and which stands surety for the business with their salaries. After the break up of
the cooperative, the fishermen continued fishing, but they now sell their fish mainly via reg-
ular shops.

THE COOPERATIVE MOA-FOLAU

After discussing the short-lived fishing cooperative in the northern village of Vailala and the
failed effort to launch a similar cooperative in the central district of Hahake, we will now

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analyze a cooperative which had a longer life and which, even now, still exists. Shortly after
the election victory of the left-wing senator Kamilo Gata in January 1989, after a long peri-
od dominated by the political right (the RPR represented by senator Benjamin Brial), Kami-
lo Gata re-launched the idea of the Groupement d Inter et Economique (GIE) and, as a
result, in the northern district of Hihifo a GIE, named Fiu-Vave, was founded for selling
handicrafts. The foundation of this GIE was clearly politically inspired.18 Initially, there
were 67 members but, after only six months 26 persons left the GIE. The remaining 40
members (another member had died in the meantime) built a traditional^/^ in the village of
Vaitupu which was inaugurated by the French Premier Rocard during his visit to Wallis in
1989. After this, another 14 members left the group, and 26 remained. In 1994, the remain-
ing group started a grocery shop to supplement the selling of handicrafts (tapa and wicker-
work), which did not generate much money at the time. They replaced the traditional fale
with a concrete building. In 1995, the legal status of the GIE Fiu-Vave was transformed into
that of a cooperative (kautahi) which continued under the name Moa-Folau. The bank pro-
vided the 26 remaining members with ten shares each. Once again, they had internal prob-
lems, this time with six women who withdrew from the cooperative.
The remaining 20 members are men and women, sometimes couples, originating from
different villages in Hihifo. Among these 20 members are seven persons who receive
salaries from the French government (gaue i te pule aga): school teachers, customs officers,
and (other) civil servants. In the beginning of 1999, next to the shop the cooperative started
a petrol station which provides the whole northern district of Hihifo with petrol and diesel.
The handicraft sales are now relocated to a small shop in the airport, also in Hihifo. At
every arrival and departure of an airplane, the shop is opened and handicrafts are sold, also
garlands of flowers or little shells - these sell like hot cakes.19 The cooperative itself is no
longer able to respond to the demand. Now, also women from outside the cooperative may
sell their handicraft products via the cooperative shop in the airport. The groceries shop
serves as a collecting point for handicrafts and one cashier is in charge of its administration
and transport to the airport. The petrol station is manned by three young men in turn. In
addition, there are cashiers, cleaners and night guardians.20 The cooperative pays 15 people
a salary and five of these, all mothers with children, officially. In 1999, the shop alone had a
turnover of 5 million CFP. Up till now, the cooperative has not distributed any of its profits
and is still paying off the investment debts.
In 1989, on the same day as the official opening of the GIE Fiu-Vave, the French Pre-
mier Rocard also inaugurated the satellite of France Intercom and the new high school
('college') in Hihifo. The members of Fiu-Vave organized a meal, but not a large-scale food
distribution feast (katoaga) as took place during the inauguration of GIEs in other districts.
A katoaga, indeed, did not correspond to the commercial spirit aimed at by the members of
Fiu-Vave. Another marker in the history of this GIE took place in 1992 when Fiu-Vave sent
a group of 50 dancers to Noumea. For this, they obtained a loan of one-and-a-half million
CFP from the bank, for which the seven civil servant members stood surety. Two weeks
before their own arrival, they sent five youths to Noumea in order to sell the Wallisian deli-
cacy hua. The fabrication of the hua was a public performance and, simultaneously, they
were able to sell 80,000 CFP worth.21 On Sunday, they organized a cultural day. Siole Pil-
ioko, a member of the group and also director of the Service Territoriale des Activités Cul-
turelles of the French administration, recounts:

We invited fifteen local Wallisian dancing groups, which received public money
which was customary. Subsequently, we received half of the money. From our side
we gave them a pig and a basket of food. Next morning, we were able to pay off
our debt to the bank. It was a great success, also because everybody was afraid of
a tropical cyclone which was announced for that day but, fortunately, did not hit us
(pers. com. 8-12-2000).

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Selling is Poverty, Buying a Shame

The groceries shop of Fiu-Vave, actually more a small supermarket, constantly met compe-
tition from new shops in the neighborhood. A strong resistance to this competition was the
petrol station, the only one in the northern district of Hihifo. Its inauguration was a race,
because one of the local chiefs also intended setting up an enterprise with a petrol station.
Initially, the petrol station had two tanks for petrol and diesel of 5,000 liters each. Recent-
ly, a third one was added for petrol. The station is not only of interest to car owners, but
also for those owning lawnmowers and motorboats. In the near future, the members of the
cooperative would like to rent an extra plot of land from the Roman Catholic mission in
order to open a bakery, a fish shop, and a hardware store. Furthermore, they have a tourist
project, and also a taxi company seems to be within its reach. Instead of earning cash the
aim is to create jobs for the youths who return with diplomas from New Caledonia. The
cooperative is now able to stand surety with the bank for the starting capital and, subse-
quently, the individuals concerned have to manage on their own. According to the mem-
bers, this is a successful strategy for not having to constantly beg for money from the
French administration.22

CULTURAL CONSTRAINTS ON LEADERSHIP

This paper started out with an analysis of Wallisian representations of work within th
text of the traditional subsistence-, barter- and gift economy, in particular the distin
between men's work (gaue tagata) and women's work (gaue f afine), and propose
hypothesis that the failures of the central market are related to these representations and
responding praxis. Other important factors are the complete absence (apart from so
handicrafts) of the export of local products, and the general economic situation on
island. Wallis may be defined in terms of having a configuration of Polynesian feat
however, it is also an affluent central part of a French overseas territory (Territoire d' O
Mer Wallis-et-Futuna) with a relatively high standard of living for the South Pacific,
for those Wallisians who have access (directly or via kin networks) to government sal
Moreover, Wallis has considerable reliance on migration, remittances, aid, and bureauc
and may thus be categorized as one of the Migration, Remittances, Aid, and Bureau
(MIRAB) economies, a model introduced by Bertram and Watters in the mid-1980s (
ters 1984; Bertram and Watters 1985, 1986; Bertram 1993, 1999).23 In this paper, we
several initiatives to organize a central market and market-like structures such as coo
tives and Groupements d' Inter et Economique (GIE) founded for commercial purpos
major reason for the market failures was already indicated in the title, 'Selling is Pov
Buying a Shame'. A Wallisian man feels disgraced (matagafua) when he buys yams or
elsewhere, because a true farmer - a real man - is supposed to do everything well: c
vate yams and other agricultural products, breed pigs, and go out fishing regularly. K
Toa, now a high chief ( ' aliici) with the title Uluimonua, formulates this as follows:

In our village meetings around the kava bowl, we show our wealth and force
When 200 people gather there, there are always four or five of us who give most.
These are the big guys who have the right of speaking out. The words of someone
who gives away many yams count more for us than those of others. The credibility
of such a person is large. If you perform a lengthy discourse with many good
ideas, but people know that you don't cultivate your fields well, then you make
poor show. Then, you better keep your mouth shut. You've to prove the value of
your ideas through gaue kele, your work on the land (pers. com. 8-2-2001).

For women the same rule applies but, then, the focus is on products of women's work
as tapa and mats. Today, in the gifting during katoaga, but also on the level of the firs
munion and other more family oriented feasts, there is an inflation in the gifts. Wal

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van der Grijp

are supposed to give increasingly more and larger pigs and the like. This inflation is stimu-
lated by money being more widely used on the island and by the attitude of the chiefs. Pele-
sio Hoatau, a highly educated civil servant, has a critical stance:

The chiefs may say that custom (fakafenua) doesn't exist to make slaves of the
people, but when you arrive with a small pig during the feast of the Assumption or
that of St Anne (the patron saint of the village of Mata'utu), you would be
ridiculed by the entire village. And the first one to turn his back on you would be
the chief who says to the others: "How dare he come over here with such a small
dog ?" or: "He is able to arrive here completely naked !" or, "With such a pig he
would have done better to hide somewhere else !" or: "He specializes in cats !"
Wallisians are afraid of being ridiculed like this (pers. com. 7-2-2001).

The latter stance may be seen as an illustration and confirmation of Stephen Henningham's
(1992:190) thesis that 'greater assertiveness and the beginnings of an inclination to question
the established order [of church and chiefly authority] is present among the younger genera-
tion, encouraged by improved education, by increased contacts with the outside world, and
by the temporary or permanent return to the home islands, of Wallisians resident in New
Caledonia.' The attitude criticized in the words by Pelesio Hoatau quoted above also
explains the importance of pigs, yams and taro for men and that of tapa and mats for
women. Many youths, however, consider work on the land {gaue kele) as inferior, in partic-
ular after they have tasted a Western life style, as Penisio Tialetagi, a successful, Futunan-
born Wallisian businessman witnesses:

From their fifth birthday, Wallisian children attend school in a Western manner and
this until their 16th or 18th birthday. After this, we expect from them that they will
cultivate the land, because there are no paid jobs. These youths say: "I'm not a
fool, I've studied." They aren't motivated to breed pigs or cultivate the land. They
do have the Wallisian stature, but with a Western mentality. Many older Wallisians
see this as a big problem (pers. com. 5-2-2001).

We could also make a comparison with Tahiti where, according to Finney (1988:197), 'most
[Tahitians] denigrate farming as being dirty, difficult and unexciting. Money work ... is
positively valued as the modern and exciting way to earn a living, ... which provides funds
for car and motorcycle installment payments, for the daily diet composed of imported food-
stuffs, for beer and entertainment.' Tahiti may have pulled ahead of Wallis in this respect
because of a different, more intensive degree of (neo-)colonization and globalization, but
there is no reason to believe that Wallis would escape from this tendency in the dialectics of
progress. Tahitians make a distinction between slow money {moni taerè) from cash crop-
ping and- fast money (monVoi'oi) from weekly salaries. In contrast to neighboring Tonga,
where money from the booming squash pumpkin export to Japan may be relatively slow -
four months to grow this crop - but for local standards quite important (see Van der Grijp
1997), monetary yields from cash cropping and other 'land' related activities {gaue kele) on
Wallis still seem to be extremely slow.
A favorable condition for the third central market on Wallis was the strong personality
with a certain authority of Soane Hoatau, who dedicated himself as a pioneer of the market
adventure. It is, however, not only a matter of personality, but also of effective grassroots
leadership in the form of the introduction of a new idea within the local context, a set of pro-
cedures for implementing it, and a continuing dialog with producers about the idea and how
it should work. The vision of the central market was continually communicated so that idea
and experience were joined on an everyday basis. This is a clear characteristic of an efficient
leader as a change agent, to be compared with the pule on Rotuma (Howard 1970, 1996): the

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Selling is Poverty, Buying a Shame

followers expect much help and service in return for honor and prestige. After 18 months,
however, Soane Hoatau, receiving no (within this context) reasonable money compensation
for his organizing efforts, was burned out. His successor was a less effective communicator
and, therefore, a less effective leader at this stage. He lost two-thirds of his producers and the
money to continue the central market. Thus, the (central) market failure cannot be reduced to
personality only, but was also a matter of cultural constraints on leadership.
This paper demonstrated that the central market may have disappeared, but the concept
of the market has not, neither have market strategies. Nowadays, people organize small
markets in the villages in order to collect money, for example to build a school. Moreover,
in the villages there are mini-markets with one or two stalls after the harvest, but these mar-
kets remain incidental because of the lack of constant provision (see Te Fenua Fo'ou 1996,
1997a, 1997b, 1998a, 1998b, 1998c, 1998d, 1999a, 1999b). In this way the idea of a market
was re-contextualized in the villages, an example of what Homer Barnett (1951, 1983)
would have called recombination. Fania Toa, the wife of Kusitino: 'One of the positive
effects of all these market experiences is that people are less ashamed to sell their products
in public' (pers. com. 8-2-2001). Previously, the three efforts to organize a central market
were unsuccessful because there was a pride in giving, during katoaga and family events, a
pride which was complemented by the shame (matagafua) of not giving enough and the
shame attached to buying or selling. Kusitino Toa tells of his experiences in the central mar-
ket: 'This shame was important. Far away, I saw a car stopping and a child coming out of it.
The child was sent to buy something from us on the market. Apparently, the parents were
too ashamed to do that themselves. Now, all this is more accepted, although the shame still
exists.' Concerning the attitude of Wallisians towards the market Kusitino says: 'Wallisians
are not like the Chinese, who earn every day a little bit. The ideal for a Wallisian is to earn a
big sum one day and then have a rest for many days. Here, people are only motivated to
work when they haven't any money left' (pers. com. 8-2-2001). Kusitino still notices this
in his shop in the village of Vailala, where he also sells other people's agricultural products.
Then, he asks these farmers to bring their produce only after the 25th of the month and
before the third of the next, because this is the period when people have money and he is
able to sell. However, he comments, 'then they come already after the 15th and I'm left
with all those unsold baskets of manioc. This is the period of the month that they need
money, but it is also the period in which potential buyers are without' (ibid.).
On Wallis, there is no longer a central market but, as we have seen in the early sections
of this paper, there is an important informal market for pigs, fish, tapa and mats. All this
exists, but not in a central place in the form of a public market. Apparently, the French
administration has no interest in spending energy and money on the organization of a cen-
tral market. The French administration, indeed, earns far more money from its taxes on
imported goods from outside the EEC. In 1994, when Kusitino Toa was village chief, he
organized in Vailala a mini-market between Christmas and New Year. Kusitino: 'More
important than the actual sale is that the produce of the farmers come to the fore. When peo-
ple need yams, taro or manioc later, they know to whom they should go' (ibid)™ Thus, the
central market may have failed for reasons we mentioned, the informal market for pigs and
other local products is very dynamic. Here, an important amount of money circulates. The
(central) market experience stimulated many Wallisians to sell their products beside the
roads or in the villages, a form of recombination. The fundamental problem remains that
one is afraid of being ridiculed when one displays one's own products. This feeling of
shame related to the acts of buying and selling, however, is changing.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Fieldwork on Wallis in 1988-1989 was funded by the Royal Netherlands Academy of Art
and Sciences (KNAW) and, in 2000-2001, by the (French) Centre National de la Recherche

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van der Grijp

Scientifique (CNRS) as well as by my present research laboratory Centre de Recherche et


de Documentation sur V Oceanie (CREDO) in Marseille. For this paper, I would like to
thank all Wallisians mentioned as informants, in particular Pelesio Hoatau, Soane Hoatau,
Sioli Pilioko, Kimi Seo, Kusitino and Fania Toa, Savelina and Sosefo Tuifua, the Futunan
Penisio Tialetagi, and a Frenchman, the late Jean Michon. I received constructive comments
on earlier versions of this paper from Angele Dorfman, Fran9oise Douaire-Marsaudon, and
two anonymous reviewers of Oceania.

NOTES

1. In January 2001, 1 CFP equaled 0.00838 Euro. The CFP, an abbreviation of 'cour franc pacifique', is also
used in French Polynesia and New Caledonia.
2. French money has been used only since 1932. Previously British money was used, as well as the British met-
ric system.
3. A typical working day on the land is from 7 till 1 1 AM and from 2 till 4 PM, i.e. six actual working hours.
4. They then require a form to be signed by their several employers with an attestation of the number of hours
per month they work for them as well as the hourly wage and the starting date of the labor relationship. In so
doing they may become eligible to obtain a loan for the acquisition of a Vespa or car, for example. The com-
bination of a number of attestations of this kind of partial but regular employment is for the bank a sufficient
guarantee for supplying a (modest) loan.
5 . Small pigs cost 1 ,500 CFP per kilo, medium sized ones 1 ,300, and large ones 1 ,000.
6. Literally, koloa means 'wealth' and 'treasures', more recently also 'trade goods' (for example in fale koloa,
i.e. shop) but, by extension, the term may for example, also refer to children.
7 . This happens increasingly often because of male labor emigration .
8. For the more successful market ventures in neighbonng Tonga see Brown and Connell 1993a and 1993b
Hau'ofa 1979, Morgan 1985; in Samoa: Lockwood 1969; in Fiji: Belshaw 1964; in Tahiti Pollock 1988; see
alsoBelshaw 1965.
9. After his retirement, Jean Michon revealed himself as the regionally famous painter of voluptuous Polyne-
sian women. He died in 1998.
10. In 1986, during the elections for the legislative assembly in France, the right won over the socialists and Presi-
dent Mitterand was obliged to appoint RPR ministers, among others Chirac as the Premier (the first Cohabita-
tion). During the same elections on Wallis and Futuna, there were three candidates: Benjamin Brial (RPR),
Basil Tui (UDF) and Mika Hoatau ('non-inscrit'). After Basil Tui was beaten during the first round, he did not
give advice as to how to vote during the second round in favor of his previous political ally Mika Hoatau, which
provoked a definitive rupture with Mika Hoatau and his party members (the later socialists) and the UDF.
1 1 . This building or 2Ü by 7 meters cost D million err, nnancea oy tne circonscnption wains, ana is noi useu
anymore at present.
12. At the time, Soane-Patita Lakina was no longer the president of the Assemblee Territoriale, but he supported
the group of artisans. Soane-Patita Lakina came from Futuna and, in 1976, he was the president of the As-
semblee Teritoriale and was thus obliged to live on Wallis. He is also a woodcarver.
13. In 1954, Kusitino Toa was born in the village of Vallala. His father originated in Vaitupu, his mother in
Vailala.
14. We should remember that, on Sundays, also the contents of earth ovens ( 'umu) were sold.
15. Soane Hoatau himself started woodcarving again and, later, built a disco in his yard ( api) on the coast ot
Liku. This disco, which is co-managed by his wife Malia and their three grown-up children, still exists in
2001.
16. Savelina's younger brother was not paid for his labor. This corresponds to the cultural characteristic or mutu-
al support and, in particular, economic assistance of sisters by brothers on Wallis.
17. Like Savelina's husband Sosefo Tufui, Kusitino knew the specialist Tongan fisherman Tevita who was sent
on a mission to Wallis by the South Pacific Commission, and even went out fishing with him twice. Kusitino:
'He was an expert fisherman, but this was in the 1980s, long before our cooperative' (see also Van der Grijp
n.d.b).
18. According to the Wallisian high school teacher Kimi Seo, who remained the president of the GIE and, later,
the cooperative, Fiu-Vave had actually started in 1987. The first initiative came from the left- winged political
movement around Kamilo Gata. From the start, the members asked Kamilo Gata not to interfere directly in
this experiment. Should this fail or if there were other problems, he would be held politically responsible and
suffer the negative effects. This, they wished to prevent' (pers. com. Kimi Seo, 9-2-2001). Compare also the
earlier remarks (in the previous section) about the negative effects of the interference by local politicians in
cooperatives.
19. On their arrival at the airport, family members, friends and other relations receive flower garlands (kahoa
kakala). This also occurs on departures. With the exception of the short flight to Futuna, however, the air
company (now Aircalin, a subsidiary of Air France) does not accept flower garlands in the plane. These have

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Selling is Poverty, Buying a Shame

to be put in a dustbin on entering the airplane. Passengers are allowed to carry garlands of little shells (kahoa
figota) which are increasingly sold nowadays.
20. In 1999 there was a burglary. The burglar was apprehended and put in jail, he is still now paying back the
200,000 CFP of damage and debts. Burglars, usually youths, are not so much looking for money as for food
and, especially, alcohol. Now, the business is guarded day and night (pers. com. Kimi Seo, 9-2-2001).
21. Hua is dough of taro and giant taro (kape) cooked with hot stones in a large, long wooden container (kume-
te), together with ripe bananas and coconut milk. To neutralize the fat, usually some salt water is added. The
dish is hua, but is also called toko, after the handling of the dough with two long sticks in the container. In
Noumea they do not add salt, but sugar. The mixture with the hot stones results in a sticky dough that contin-
ually has to be moved back and forth playfully but with force (toko) in order to prevent it from setting.
22. For more details on this cooperative see Van der Grijp (n.d.b).
23. For criticism concerning the French territories in the South Pacific see Blanchet 1998; Poirine 1994, 1998;
for the Tongan case see James 1991, 1993; and Van der Grijp 1997, 1999.
24. Nowadays, according to Kusitino the Wallisian mentality has changed, and a central market would appear to
be viable. This need not necessarily be a large building, but there should be water and electricity. There
should also be a guardian, so that sellers may leave their goods over night. Then, the market could operate
every day: 'When I see that agriculture is prospering one day,' Kusitino Toa concludes, 'I'm stubborn enough
to start another central market' (pers. com. 8-2-2001).

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