An oral history
p. 51 · Read in the full issue
Literature
...brings back the feel of early 20th century Nukua’alofa
By Nicolas
Rothwell
The nostalgic press of his tory upon the present: the constant, unquiet heart beat of memory visitors to the Kingdom of Tonga recognise these sensations. They are abroad everywhere in Nuku’alofa, one of the rare Pacific capitals where tradition is not being wholly swept aside by the onrush of modernity. Memory forms the central strand, the structuring theme of “Malo Tupou,” an unusual, and unusually charm ing, oral history of a remarkable Tongan woman, Tupou Posesi Fanua.
Her recollections, from the vantage point of 81 years, recounted to the ever diligent Lois Webster, bring back the tex ture, tone and colour of early 20th century life in Nuku’alofa.The reader, at first star tled by the vividness of her memories and their almost casual presentation, eventual ly becomes familiar with the twin attributes of the narrative; its episodic style - things turn up, just as in life - and its crys talline, wondrous clarity.
Well connected, spirited, quick-think ing and much loved, Tupou was steeped in both Tongan and western cultures. She was by turns student and teacher of nursing, interpreter, legal practitioner, broadcaster, United States Peace Corps trainer, and
member of the Tongan Traditions Committee - but all these achievements came after the days recollected in this vol ume, which gives us the flavour of child hood and adolescence as lived by an extremely unconventional young woman: a self-described “spoilt brat” with an enthusiasm for genealogies (but not dates), an inquiring cast of mind and a pro nounced penchant for reading. The story begins on the first of November 1913, and ripples outwards swiftly to embrace a range of other tales and characters.
Daughter of an eminent Tongan teacher, and niece of the Premier, Polutele Kaho, Tupou received her nickname from the Queen. In her early years, her life inter sected with a wide range of both Tongans and Europeans: the anthropologist A.R.
Radcliffe-Brown has a surprising walk on part to play in the dramas of her child hood. Tupou’s mother dropped dead in front of her when she was only five years old. The funeral and the impressions of the loss made are poignantly described, only to give way eventually to an enraptured account of the making of Tongan oils.
Tupou’s father, gifted and elegant, liked to tell his only daughter mythological stories that now live on in her imagination: “My father’s ways took hold of me, as his father’s took hold of him. I became inter ested in knowing about history, about the stories of the past and the people of those times, just like my father. And, like my seafaring ancestors, I became interested in something else - roaming.”
Her education involved repeated changes of institution, until Tupou settled at the European school, as the only full Tongan there until the arrival of the future king, whom she befriended (“He was a funny little boy, you know”) - she even helped him with his visits to the bathroom, a favour still remembered with a flood of giggles by the King at their encounters much later in life during a Royal visit to Australia.
Way-stages of change marked Tupou’s equally unconventional adolescence. She spent a year in Brisbane living with the family of Ragnar Hyne, the principal of Tonga College, who, together with his wife, acted almost as foster parents to the young girl, whom they were keen to adopt.
Hyne’s departure to enter the British diplo matic service saw Tupou asserting her independence: she began working for Bums Philp, took up amateur dramatics
and discovered the difficulties of wearing lipstick without smudging it. Much of the sweetness of these reminiscences stems from the very distance of the remembered event form the narrative present; much, too, from the almost archival presentation, complete with photographs of early 20th century Tonga, footnotes on the historical background and copious, well-annotated street maps.
Even without such aids as these, though, the central adventures in this colourful coming-of-age drama would have a specific, highly charged resonance.
One hears, for instance, the authentic tone of status and lineage-conscious Tonga emerging in the concern of Tupou’s family over her early romantic dalliance. “They probably began to realise,” she says, “that, since I was the only one of my kind, that it was important to keep my particular ‘’blood’ running through what they saw as an appropriate marriage.”
Perhaps a more tragic victim of the
Kingdom’s liking for arranged marriages
was “the beloved Princess Fusipala”, Tupou’s friend, who was “so very upset about the marriages that had been planned for her” that she ran away and hid with one of Tupou’s family. How sadly does the evanescent personality of this young and ailing character illuminate the tale: “The very last time I saw Fusi was at a celebra tion, a jubilee made for Tonga College.
Fusipala was there representing Her Majesty. She didn’t look at all well. You know Fusipala was always a thin girl, but this time she was very, very thin ... very frail. It was very soon after that concert that Fusi left for Australia. She died there, you know.” The next, unbearably sad pages tell of her funeral and of the all-night vigil held in the palace on the occasion of her death.
Tupou herself, however, true to type, is bursting with robust health as this volume ends; so far from being forced into an unwanted marriage, she elopes with the husband of her choice: “One thing, for sure, I was at the side of my husband, Posesi, and the world and everyone in it was kind from my eyes and from my heart ...” Such were Tupou’s first, youthful years. How much they call out for a narra tive continuation - and, in the meantime, 'Malo’ - thank you - “Malo Tupou.”
Malo Tupou, an oral history’ - by Tupou Posesi Fanua, published by Pasifika Press,