Tavalui: The Divided World

When Codrington first noted the pervasiveness of the idea of ‘sides’ as a socio-linguistic category linking the islands of northern Vanuatu, he argued that the extreme cultural and linguistic diversity that he found to be characteristic of the region must have emerged from a more unified source. [19] Thus he wrote of the Banks Islands:

The identity of the language is conspicuous, however mutually unintelligible the dialects may be; and wherever a native of one of these islands may land he may find his due place in the gamal, the clubhouse of the Suqe. What is chiefly remarkable as showing how comparatively modern are these diversities, even of language, is the identity in all these Northern New Hebrides of the division of the population into two ‘sides of the house,’ which obtains in the Banks Islands. (Codrington 1881: 291; see also Wilson 1932: 65)

The notion of duality is also a pervasive feature of the Sia Raga conceptual universe in which it is considered that all things should have two ‘sides’ (tavalu), and that everything must have a ‘partner’ (also tavalu). [20] While in some instances such duality is considered in terms of hierarchical opposition—a person’s strong, ‘good’ right side is distinguished from their left side, which is weak and ‘bad’—it is more often the case that the two are seen to form an ambivalent yet productive complementarity. [21]

The division of the entire population into two exogamous matrilineal moieties, Bule and Tabi, provides the most powerful example of how dualism works as a productive organising principle within Sia Raga society. The two moieties are commonly referred to as tavalu, which has the basic meaning of ‘opposite’, ‘side’, ‘half’ or ‘partner’. [22] An individual’s sense of belonging to either one of the two major social divisions—of being either Bule or Tabi—is inscribed from birth as one of the most basic elements of social identity. Inclusion in either of the two moieties provides the basis of one’s social categorisation, and for this reason strangers who arrive to stay in the area for only a few days are quickly defined accordingly. Conversely, to suggest that someone belongs to neither tavalui is considered the most serious of insults. One turn of phrase for such an accusation, matan gai halhala, is translated by Hardacre as ‘son of a floating stick’ (Hardacre n.d.: 40). This reflects the arboreal ‘land-tree’ images of kinship and social organisation described above. It also clearly resonates with Jolly’s discussion of the privileging of different kinds of movement amongst the Sa speakers of South Pentecost. In North Pentecost, also, whereas rootedness and motivated movement are highly regarded, ‘mere wandering or floating is deplored’ (Jolly 1999: 284).

One of the many important characteristics of the distinction between one’s own moiety members and those of the ‘other’ lies in the way it permeates the ceremonial and ritual duties that punctuate Sia Raga life. At such occasions, through performing those duties and obligations that are so important in the creation of the social identity of people, matrikin and patrikin ‘become’ interminably embroiled within a process of reckoning, delivering and receiving.

Like the role of hands in the making of string figures, tavalui construct the division across which meaningful hala (ways, roads, trajectories) can become linked. Indeed, tension and interplay between the moieties is considered to be essential to the maintenance of efficient and harmonious social relations and production. A strict rule dictating that a person may not marry a person of his or her own moiety is maintained, while major prestations in large part follow a cross-moiety trajectory. Intra-moiety marriages, called bona, are said to sometimes occur despite ridicule and ostracism. Such unions are, however, very rare, and only one was evident during my visit.

As Wagner found among the Barok people of New Ireland, the moieties contain their own and nurture the other, and thereby ‘stand in a relation of asymmetrically and perpetually unresolved hierarchy to one another’ (Wagner 1986: 49). In this way, Layard noted a ‘creative tension between the moieties, which are at one and the same time necessarily opposed to one another and also essential to one another’s existence’ (Layard 1942:103). Whether performing transactions with the other world, abanoi, or in prestations between kin, all ritual action is concerned ultimately with the redefinition of differentiation and the relationship between tavalui (sides). The relationship between sides therefore appears as a separation and a binding together. Between them the Sia Raga, anxiously negotiate strategies by which to sustain a perilous equilibrium; to stop the sides from falling away from each other, but also from merging into confusion.

In North Pentecost, as the result of this creative tension, the two social divisions are perceived as entangled, or ‘stuck’ to one another. This ‘entanglement’ (cf. Thomas 1991) is described by the word wasi. Being wasi is itself considered a two-sided predicament, with good and bad qualities. It implies difficulty and costliness, but perhaps more importantly, strength, tenacity and security. For this reason, Sia Raga social life is considered to be inescapable, a situation that may give rise to feelings of resentment as well as assurance. In particular, like a severe case of ‘tall poppy syndrome’, the tension of otherness is seen to act in such a way as to negate assertions of individual difference. People complain that it is hard to get ahead, that they are constantly swallowed up by society. As one person told me, to be man Raga is like being trapped in the jaws of a clam shell. [23]