Ceremony of raising posts

A most important feast takes place at the commencement of the work, when the main posts have been erected. I was fortunate enough to attend the feast connected with Misa's house at Ofu. The erection of the posts is termed fa'atunga, and the feast receives the same name. The day is arranged beforehand to permit of food preparations. We travelled from the island of Tau to be present on the day appointed.

The fa'atunga ceremony includes the actual erection of the posts and three meals, lavata'i, fa'atunga, and fui'ava. The lavata'i is an early morning meal cooked by one member of the taufale's family. He lights the fire, prepares and cooks the food unaided. There must be no noise of interruption. When ready, the meal is conveyed by him to the chief builder and his party, before they commence work. The lavata'i is a meal and not a feast.

After the meal the routine work of preparation is proceeded with. The three main posts are already placed in the open holes. The scaffolding has been erected. Towards noon, the posts are set perpendicular and rammed with the top ends level. The ridgepole is placed in position. By this time, the people begin to take up their positions; so the builders retire to their open shed. (See fig. 65.)

One side was formed by the working builders (Sa Tangaloa) in their shed, and the visiting builders on their left. Opposite was the taufale family (fai'oa). The left side was formed by the villagers (autapua'i). The open right side held the newly erected main posts set on the low stone platform of page 92a previous house. To the left front of the carpenter's shed sat three talking chiefs representing the Sa Tangaloa. The working builders had their hair limed for the occasion. The visiting builders (tufunga usu) consisted of those not employed on the building. All master builders within hail had no need to wait for a summons to attend the ceremony; it was their privilege as fellow craftsmen of the Sa Tangaloa to share in the food. Thus, they occupied the same side of the square as their working brethren. Their official title of Tufunga Usu means, "the builders who have come."

The taufale family sat in rows with the chief Misa and two others forming a front row. The villagers also sat in level rows with their highest talking chief occupying the middle of the front row. As the working builders were from Tau, whence District Governor Tufele and myself had just come, we were regarded as of their ainga and invited to sit in the carpenters' shed. The whole assembly sat cross-legged on the sandy soil, with trees affording shade and setting to a picturesque scene.

The ceremonial was heralded by the characteristic Samoan yell (ailao) which came from behind the trees at the back of the taufale lines. Young men appeared carrying huge roots of green kava slung from poles and still bearing branches and leaves. The presentation of green kava ('ava mata) is the highest honor that can be paid to chiefs and is thus an appropriate tribute to the guild descended from the gods. About a dozen such roots were carried across the central space and deposited on the stone platform on the right. Then came the carriers of baskets of cooked food which were piled up in rows before the builders' shed. Accompanying them was a huge pig cooked whole, and others of smaller size. Several kegs of salt beef furnished a modern note. The food laid out in a lavish heap was fitting recognition of the angai o tupu (the companions of kings).

Then Misa, the chief of the fai'oa, taufale, and autapua'i, addressed the descendants of Sao. Misa is one of the rare combinations of high chief and high talking chief termed Ali'i taufale. In his capacity as taufale he spoke for himself as ali'i. The speech was delivered from the sitting position. The titles of the head builder were enumerated with punctilious ceremony and the greatness of the Sa Tangaloa done justice to. Apologies were made for the paucity and poor quality of the food placed before, such an august assembly. The hope was expressed in terms of the contract that nothing would man the brotherly relationship established between the two parties. Cooperation between them would result in a building that would bring joy to the owner and honor to the builder. Ceremonial phrases and ancient proverbs were repeated at length. A masterly exposition of Samoan oratory concluded with a modern invocation for a blessing on those assembled.

One of the three talking chiefs named Nua had the privilege of reply, as he was the highest ranking chief of the Sa Tangaloa. The head builder page 93named Vivao sat silent within the shed, as custom dictated. Misa's titles were named; his generosity extolled. Here Misa made a ceremonial interruption. He deprecated the speaker's allusion as it focussed attention on the paucity of food provided by so large a family and filled them with shame. From the earnestness of his manner I almost forgot that he was adding to his prestige by assuming a humility that was purely ceremonial. Nua completed his remarks with further appropriate superlatives. The other two talking chiefs followed in a similar strain.

The village then took up the oratory. Their talking chief, Lia, was of the high rank termed to'oto'o. He had been a London Missionary Society's native pastor, but had resigned to take the title and duties of to'oto'o when the vacant title claimed him. He repeated the honorary titles of the Sa Tangaloa, and demonstrated his qualifications for his position of chief orator of the village. When he concluded, the villagers brought forward their contribution of cooked pigs, kegs of beef and baskets of cooked food. As they were added to the pile in front of the shed, a lesser talking chief of the villagers treated them in the laulautasi method. The contents of each basket with the name of the giver was announced. He then handed it over to a receiving talking chief of the builders who placed it in the rows he was arranging with obvious satisfaction. While the baskets were being enumerated, the villagers brought the large dried roots of kava (tungase) and laid them on the ground before another receiving chief. The talking chief who received the food rearranged the pile. He then replied to the speech of the village and enumerated the articles of food to stress their quality, quantity, and variety. He spoke standing amidst the food. The third talking chief then asked the villagers to excuse them while they divided up the food.

The pigs were quickly cut up and the food divided into heaps under the direction of the talking chiefs. It is for occasions such as this that professional talking chiefs are appointed by the builders. They have to have quick judgment as to the quantity of food, and the number of people to be supplied. If any party gets less than they think they are justly entitled to, no hesitation is evinced in showing their dissatisfaction. As a protest a party may refuse to accept the share allotted to them. Such action shames the builders, who know that public opinion will condemn them as parsimonious. The food was divided up into large portions for the house family, the villagers, the visiting builders, and the Fale Tolu (ceremonial title applied to the village of Tau as represented by our boat crew). Smaller special subdivisions were set aside for the local pastor, District Governor Tufele, and myself. The green and dried kava were also divided up among the heaps. The various articles were arranged by men working under the direction of the officiating talking chief. The division complete, the talking chief retailed the quantities in the various heaps and his assistants quickly carried them over page 94to their respective groups. My share was carried up to our guest house, where it joined the general house supply. However, I had been publicly acknowledged, which is what most of the world seeks.

A ceremonial complication now seemed to take place. The villagers sent back a keg of beef to the builders. The Sa Tangaloa were immediately on the alert. The officiating talking chief demanded an explanation of their sign of dissatisfaction with the division of the food. He sent the keg of beef back without waiting the reply. The village talking chief replied that the portion had been returned not as an indication of parsimony, but of excessive liberality. The portion of the Sa Tangaloa had been depleted too much in their liberality to others. Once again the keg of beef traveled across the open space, and was hurled down beside the food heap of the Sa Tangaloa. The builders' talking chief called, "That being so let the surface of your minds be unruffled like a calm sea (Ia malu le vai o lou finangalo); we are the best judges as to whether we have been too liberal." He waved his hand towards the keg. One of his assistants picked it up, carried it across the open space and hurled it down beside the villagers' food pile. On this pile reposed the head of the large pig. The village talking chief, not to be outdone in spectacular liberality, waved his hand in turn towards the keg. As it recrossed the open space he called, "Enough, keep it. If you persist in arguing we will send the head of the pig over to join it." This ceremonial threat settled the argument. Honor on both sides was satisfied. The different groups set to work and divided up their shares into individual portions. This done they feasted where they sat. The fa'atunga feast was on.

The fui'ava is the ordinary evening meal preceded by ceremonial kava drinking (fui'ava a tufunga). It is here that the first cup of kava to the head builder with the reciting of his titles, gets full display. It forms a ceremonial ending to the day's proceedings with full accentuation of the prestige and status of the building craft. Unfortunately the full ceremony was abandoned owing to another ceremonial complication that had occurred. This, however, merits description as a further example of the Samoan psychology expressed in custom.

When I arrived the stage was set in groups as before. In front and to the side of the village talking chiefs, a man sat cross-legged with a fine mat spread out over his knees. The talking chief was apologizing to the Sa Tangaloa. One of the older builders with a show of indignation explained to me that the Sa Tangaloa had been insulted. The village orator went on to say that the incident was quite accidental. Everyone, most of all the villagers, knew the high traditional origin and the present prestige of the builders. He begged them to forgive the accident and not let it interfere with the smooth building of the house; to let the surface of their minds remain unruffled. The old builder here informed me that in olden page 95times the Sa Tangaloa would have immediately embarked in their canoes and gone home. His voice quavered with emotion.

"What was the trouble?" I asked.

"It was terrible," he replied.

Here the builders' talking chief replied, pointing out that such things were not done. However, as he had their assurance that the incident was purely accidental, the builders were inclined to overlook it in their generosity of heart. They were the descendants of gods, the companions of kings and the family of Sao. Nothing of like nature must occur again or they would not be so lenient. The village apologist redoubled his protestations. The bearer of the fine mat rose to his feet, advanced across the plaza and laid the mat before the Sa Tangaloa. It was the self-inflicted fine of the village, and a recompense for guilt. Such having been publicly made manifest, the honor of the builders was satisfied. The mat was accepted and the incident closed. During this time Misa sat silent in his lines. He had personally made his apologies during the whole afternoon. The speeches took so long that the shades of evening were fast falling and the kava ceremonial was abandoned.

"What was the incident?" again I asked the old builder.

"Well," he replied touching his throat, "among the fowls that were in our share there was one that did not have this taken out."

A psychical storm requiring two hours of oratory and a fine mat to calm, had been produced by a careless cook not removing the crop of one fowl. I smiled.

"Would you eat it?" asked the old builder.

"Certainly not," I replied indignantly.

"Neither would the Sa Tangaloa," he said.

A seeming triviality endangered the building of the largest guest house in Manua. Analysis reveals, however, that an important principle was involved. The prestige of the Sa Tangaloa was at stake. An introduced foreign culture is gradually undermining the foundations of the guild. To overlook and thus condone an infringement of their rules, trivial in act but important in principle, would open the way for other infringements and bring the social side of the edifice toppling to the ground. The guild had my sympathy. At the same time, it was a pity that the uncropped fowl had fallen to the share of the only group to which it could have made a difference.

Between the erection of the main posts and the completion of the house, a number of lesser feasts take place. They are celebrations of the completion of various stages. One such feast takes place on the erection of the middle arch (fau tu) of the rounded end.