And overall, the Fijian people have
done well to meet the demands of this growing Tourism
industry. The traditional Polynesian way of hosting
visitors is much the same here among the Melanesian
Fijians. But with the conflict created when tradition
and economics meet head on, one observes what happens
to the general quality and craftsmanship of traditional
arts and crafts when produced solely for the purpose
of sale to tourists.
In the case of the tapa cloth, the results
are poor at best. The cloth is thick as if no attempt
has been made to soften it. The pieces are glued together
rather than being blended together with the pounding
of the ike mallets until the fibers mesh together.
The patterns are poorly planned and crudely painted.
This is not the art form of the tapa cloth created
for use within the Fijian culture and society. This
is a crude imitation to be handed off to tourists for
a quick dollar.
But strangely enough the tourist, though
unimpressed, skeptically accepts it. One who has come
from North America and spent thousands of dollars to
experience the mysteries of Fijian culture while still
maintaining a few comforts of home is not likely to
accept that the pieces offered are anything less than
traditional art. While looking at the finer pieces
on display in a hotel lobby, or the Fiji Museum, or
publications, one can only shrug off the disappointment
and dismay at the apparent lack of pride in the workmanship
of these castoffs.
I cannot help but agree, in one
sense, with an earlier observer of the effect of
Western
culture on traditional Pacific art forms when Alberto
Cesare
Ambesi stated that they "have been plunged into a
crisis of sterility and commercialisation" that could
possibly be attributed to the introduction of modern
tools.3
But he then declared this to be "yet another demonstration
that the growth of material benefits may bring about
an impoverishment of spiritual life..."4
On this point I wish to disagree.
Instead, this may be seen as only a tentative experimentation.
That a protective shield has been cast over the
finer work, either consciously or unconsciously,
which,
in order to preserve its spiritual presence, must
actually be denied to the outsider's possession.
This may not be a conscious act, for many women look
upon
their
creation as simply a craft of minor consequence
but necessary to everyday life like sewing or cooking,
and of only occasional importance in itself. The
creation does indeed take on a presence beyond
its
simple existence
and the unconscious protection remains apparent.
