I made my grand debut on Fijian television last night: lingering shot of me scratching a mosquito bite on my shoulder as I sat in the audience at a media panel that Shalen invited me to observe. These panels, which are organized by the Fiji Times four times a year, feature three speakers from government and NGOs and then open the floor for questions from local journalists and the general public. The first hour is shown on Fiji One, the local television network.
They were talking about poverty in Fiji—a whole lot of double-talk, actually—but the aggressive moderator from a local radio station kept things on topic. It is a pretty remarkable way to make government ministers and MPs accessible to the public, even if they never actually say anything. The upshot is that poverty is likely increasing in Fiji, especially if one goes by the numbers on the public assistance rolls and the increasing rates of crime and prostitution.
I have received a number of warnings not to go out at night (except for in the very center of Suva, which has businesses that are open late), just like when I first visited Nairobi, although not as extreme. I wouldn’t characterize Suva as a dangerous city at all—there is a much more electrifying sense of dread walking the streets of Nairobi for the first time. That said, the warnings certainly quickened my pace at night. It was only one night that I made the walk from my hotel at the top of a hill down to the city proper. It is a 10-minute walk through a part of town that is a little seedy but bustling with shops and foot traffic. But unlike the shops in central Suva, they all close around five, making the walk a little harrowing, even to a seasoned New Yorker (albeit now in a golden age of safety in New York). My pace picked up a bit more when some sort of Indian junkie with a rag over his head walked directly toward me on the sidewalk and sort of half-heartedly tried to pin me against the wall. I pushed him out of the way (with a polite “excuse me,” strangely enough) and haven’t walked that stretch of road after 5:00 since. By contrast, I never would have even tried to walk outside in Nairobi at night in the brief time I was there. Luckily, I had no reason to go out at night there, and here taxis are abundant and cheap.
There is poverty in Fiji both rural—Indian farmers displaced when indigenous Fijians refused to renew their traditional long-term leases—and urban, where the lack of a minimum wage means that many city dwellers work hard for what is often simply too little money to make ends meet. Poverty is a problem for both indigenous Fijians and Indians, but from what I understand, the poorest of the poor are those displaced Indian farmers, while the overall rates of poverty are higher among indigenous Fijians.
There is simply no other place in the world—and anyone out there please feel free to correct me if I’m wrong here—with a situation quite like this. Two ethnic groups in roughly equal proportion. One is more financially successful, but is subject to seemingl appalling institutional discrimination—Indians essentially have no right to own land. The other has all the political power but have not done as well in business and therefore—perhaps rightfully—worry that, if Indians were given a level playing field, the indigenous Fijiana would be marginalized in their own land. Coups basically happen when Indians start to acquire more political power (at one time they made up more than half of the population, enough for a government mandate, but lost that majority to emigration following the coups).
It strikes me as odd that things are as peaceful as they are here. Imagine an America in which any minority wasn’t allowed, by law, to own land. Think about the dozens of countries around the world that have been through paroxysms of violence between ethnic groups over the last century. And here, it is not the institutionally disadvantaged people that stage coups or participate in violence, but those who hold most seats in government and have the power of the law behind them. It’s bizarre to me and I'm not going to understand it in a short time. Is there something in the Indo-Fijian character that allows it to happen? I’m quite sure that the situation is a fair measure more complicated than I am seeing it now and my American perspective certainly colors my approach. The pieces are not fitting together.
“Fiji is a paradox and a pity,” wrote Brij V. Lal, an expert of Fijian history from The Australian National University. So it is, I think.
I am going to try to go a little lighter in my last few days here in Fiji, taking some photos and commenting on cultural quirks. Also, please note that I changed the settings on the blog so anyone can comment on it, so you no longer have to sign up for a blogger account to comment. But it would be nice to know who leaves a comment.
They were talking about poverty in Fiji—a whole lot of double-talk, actually—but the aggressive moderator from a local radio station kept things on topic. It is a pretty remarkable way to make government ministers and MPs accessible to the public, even if they never actually say anything. The upshot is that poverty is likely increasing in Fiji, especially if one goes by the numbers on the public assistance rolls and the increasing rates of crime and prostitution.
I have received a number of warnings not to go out at night (except for in the very center of Suva, which has businesses that are open late), just like when I first visited Nairobi, although not as extreme. I wouldn’t characterize Suva as a dangerous city at all—there is a much more electrifying sense of dread walking the streets of Nairobi for the first time. That said, the warnings certainly quickened my pace at night. It was only one night that I made the walk from my hotel at the top of a hill down to the city proper. It is a 10-minute walk through a part of town that is a little seedy but bustling with shops and foot traffic. But unlike the shops in central Suva, they all close around five, making the walk a little harrowing, even to a seasoned New Yorker (albeit now in a golden age of safety in New York). My pace picked up a bit more when some sort of Indian junkie with a rag over his head walked directly toward me on the sidewalk and sort of half-heartedly tried to pin me against the wall. I pushed him out of the way (with a polite “excuse me,” strangely enough) and haven’t walked that stretch of road after 5:00 since. By contrast, I never would have even tried to walk outside in Nairobi at night in the brief time I was there. Luckily, I had no reason to go out at night there, and here taxis are abundant and cheap.
There is poverty in Fiji both rural—Indian farmers displaced when indigenous Fijians refused to renew their traditional long-term leases—and urban, where the lack of a minimum wage means that many city dwellers work hard for what is often simply too little money to make ends meet. Poverty is a problem for both indigenous Fijians and Indians, but from what I understand, the poorest of the poor are those displaced Indian farmers, while the overall rates of poverty are higher among indigenous Fijians.
There is simply no other place in the world—and anyone out there please feel free to correct me if I’m wrong here—with a situation quite like this. Two ethnic groups in roughly equal proportion. One is more financially successful, but is subject to seemingl appalling institutional discrimination—Indians essentially have no right to own land. The other has all the political power but have not done as well in business and therefore—perhaps rightfully—worry that, if Indians were given a level playing field, the indigenous Fijiana would be marginalized in their own land. Coups basically happen when Indians start to acquire more political power (at one time they made up more than half of the population, enough for a government mandate, but lost that majority to emigration following the coups).
It strikes me as odd that things are as peaceful as they are here. Imagine an America in which any minority wasn’t allowed, by law, to own land. Think about the dozens of countries around the world that have been through paroxysms of violence between ethnic groups over the last century. And here, it is not the institutionally disadvantaged people that stage coups or participate in violence, but those who hold most seats in government and have the power of the law behind them. It’s bizarre to me and I'm not going to understand it in a short time. Is there something in the Indo-Fijian character that allows it to happen? I’m quite sure that the situation is a fair measure more complicated than I am seeing it now and my American perspective certainly colors my approach. The pieces are not fitting together.
“Fiji is a paradox and a pity,” wrote Brij V. Lal, an expert of Fijian history from The Australian National University. So it is, I think.
I am going to try to go a little lighter in my last few days here in Fiji, taking some photos and commenting on cultural quirks. Also, please note that I changed the settings on the blog so anyone can comment on it, so you no longer have to sign up for a blogger account to comment. But it would be nice to know who leaves a comment.
posted by Samir S. Patel at 8:57 PM
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