Showing posts with label German colonies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label German colonies. Show all posts

Friday, 31 July 2015

Solomon Islands - Welcome to the Happy Isles!

The first time I remember becoming aware of Honiara, the capital of the Solomon Islands, was when I was living in Thailand in 2004 and I used to watch the weather reports on Australian TV.  I'd never heard of this interesting-sounding place, although I probably had a vague awareness that the Solomon Islands existed.  Ever since then, I've had a mild fascination with this small nation, in the western Pacific Ocean and, it goes without saying that I'd love to visit sometime although, for now, a virtual journey to the Solomon Islands will have to do!

The quest for El Dorado

As I've started my research into the Solomon Islands, I'm already making connections to places I've blogged about previously, namely Oaxaca in Mexico, Yemen and Fiji.

When I was blogging about Oaxaca, I learned about the arrival of the Spanish in central America - the disastrous first contact with Mesoamerican people, such as the Aztecs and the bloodthirsty greed for gold that led the Spanish to Peru and the search for the Golden one or El Dorado.

Beach near Havalo by Jenny Scott
The story of European contact with the Solomon Islands very much starts in Peru.  Having failed to find the fabled El Dorado in the Amazon jungle, the Spanish listened to Inca legends about Tupuc Yapanqui and the discovery of a fabulously rich kingdom of Terra Australis in the Pacific ocean.  In 1567, Álvaro de Mendaña de Neira, the nephew of the governor of Peru, managed to convince his uncle to fund an expedition in the Pacific ocean, which ultimately brought him to what we now call the Solomon Islands.

The expedition was a disaster but, rather than admit this and in the hope of funding a second, more successful expedition, Mendaña returned to Peru with stories of a wealthy Pacific kingdom, which soon became known as the Solomon Islands, named after the wealthy Biblical King.  Mendaña eventually died in the Solomon Islands, on his equally disastrous second expedition, but the name has survived to the 21st century - a strange Middle Eastern reference, in a faraway place.

The Queen of Sheba and the man-eating myth

In 2011, I blogged about the Queen of Sheeba and her visit to King Solomon, a prototype of subsequent diplomatic missions.  Mendaña's tales from the Pacific also set in stone a pattern of cultural interaction, where Europeans began to believe that cannibalism was widespread amongst the people of the Pacific and this reminded me of the research I did when I was blogging about Fiji in 2012 and Obeyesekere's study of the man-eating myth.

The Lost islands and World War Two

House in Havalo village by Jenny Scott
After two unsuccessful attempts by the Spanish to colonise the Solomon Islands, they pretty much remained lost in time, as contemporary maps of the Pacific were so inaccurate, that the Solomon Islands was believed to be much further to the east than they actually are.

Despite this loss of contact between Europeans and Solomon Islanders, the European memory of the islands remained and, even today, many of the main islands Santa Isabel, Santa Cruz and Guadalcanal still have the names that were originally given to them by the Spanish in the 16th century.

Guadalcanal is probably the most well-known of the islands and became a theatre of the Pacific war in the 1940's, when the US army fought the Japanese to gain control over this strategic island group, so close to Australia. The British first started getting interested in the Solomon Islands towards the end of the 18th century, but it wasn't really until the 1890's that they established a protectorate over the island group and the British Solomon Islands joined the world stage.

British interest in the Solomons was mostly linked to their fledgling colony in Australia, but also the fact that, in the late 19th century, the Germans were muscling in on (what is now) Papua New Guinea.  A strange anomaly in the Solomons' story is that Bougainville, one of the islands in the Solomon group, is now part of Papua New Guinea rather than the modern-day nation of Solomon Islands.

Man in canoe by Jenny Scott
Islands adrift in time

The Solomon Islands has a couple of nicknames; the Happy Isles and the islands adrift in time.  I'm looking forward to finding out more over the next couple of months, reading, listening, cooking and watching movies associated with the Solomon Islands.  I do hope you'll join me on my virtual journey to this remote corner of the Pacific!

Image credits:

For this first blog post, I wanted to highlight the photos of Flickr member Jenny Scott, a.k.a. Adelaide Archivist.  Jenny took these photos in Halavo village, which is on the Nggela Sule island in the Solomons' central province.  Thanks Jenny for sharing these images using the creative commons license.  

Thursday, 30 September 2010

Togo - the Village of Waiting



The first book I've read about life in Togo is ex-Peace Corps volunteer George Packer's The Village of Waiting.

A frank, vivid account of contemporary African life

During my time in Central Asia, I became friends with several Peace Corps volunteers and have, since then, really admired the fortitude of the volunteers and their determination to learn something about this amazing world of ours, rather than live in the bubble of 'the West'.  I'm sure lots of Peace Corps volunteers have written books about their eye-opening experiences, living in countries, like Togo, that are otherwise forgotten about and misunderstood by the rest of the world.  I really enjoyed reading Packer's book and it was, as the subtitle says, an incredibly frank and vivid account of life in Africa, as he experienced it.

What I liked about Packer's book is that he didn't romanticise his experience in Africa, nor did he shy away from being brutally honest about his experiences in the Togolese village of Lavié.  He also didn't get bogged down in more 'challenging' aspects of his life in Togo, nor was the book a list of grievances about the inadequacies of the Togolese government or the society around him. 

Customs and traditions
 
As can be expected, Packer mentions some of the customs and traditions of the Ewé tribespeople and I found these very interesting, for example:

- the fact that it's customary in Ewé tribes to keep the chief's death a secret for one year.  Even if everyone knows that he is dead, they go on talking about him, as though he is still alive.
- He also mentions a pretty horrible tradition that, when a newborn baby dies, one of its hands is cut off before it's buried, to prevent it from crawling back into its mother's womb and starting the life/death cycle all over again.

Packer writes about animism and the villagers' fear of the forest, about the evil spirit Sakpaté and how it's taboo to say his name aloud at night.  Packer comes to the conclusion that the villagers belief in animism is a logical by-product of the lack of electricity in Lavié.  In the dark night of the forest, one can fantasise about the vulnerability of humans in a world ruled by supernatural forces.  It reminds me of something I read somewhere that pointed out how ghost stories died in England with the invention of the electric bulb.  Shadowy corners and creaky floorboards seem less threatening in the glare of artificial light. 

An African Bildung

Like a lot of Peace Corps volunteers, Packer ends up in the village school teaching English.  He makes some important points about the history of European-style education in Togo, starting with the German missionaries and their desire to educate the Togolese well enough, so they could read the Bible, but not well enough to think for themselves or became anything other than labourers in their Müsterkolonie.  The French took over with their model of education, establishing a bureaucratic system of formation that continues to hinder the development of Togo, well into the 20th century. 

I've never been to Africa and can't claim any expertise on the subject, but I can see the logic in Packer's argument that a European educational system is one steeped in failure for African students.  The entire system served to make the European colonisers feel superior and helped them impose their culture on their African 'subjects'.  Rather than breaking with an unnatural, European education system on gaining independence from France, Togo, like many other African nations, continued to use this system as a tool to control and contain the various different tribes making up their country.  It makes as little sense now, as it ever did and, from Packer's experiences, it's obvious that an African child, especially a girl, has the odds stacked against her.  Even if he/she does get an education, it will prove useless in a country that toes the line, idealogically and intellectually.

Le petit nordiste and Authenticity

Like far too many countries that I've blogged about, Togo lived for many years under the shadow of one man, Gnassingbé Eyadéma.  Elevated to the status of demi-God, after surviving a plane crash in Sarakawa, Eyadéma maintained a stranglehold on Togolese politics that lasted 38 years and is continued today, in many ways, by the current Togolese leader, also Eyadéma's son, Faure Gnassingbé.  Eyadéma was very much an opportunist, having fought for the French in Algeria in the 1960's, he was one of the many disgruntled soldiers from the northern Kabye tribe, dubbed les petits nordistes by Togo's first president Sylvanus Olympio.  In the first coup d'etat of the newly independent African nations, Eyadéma dramatically deposed (and apparantly murdered) Olympio, eventually replacing him as President of Togo.

Eyadéma believed his aircrash to have been a ploy by the French to get rid of him and he emerged from the ashes of the crash with a renewed determination to legitimise his authority and suppress any opposition to his regime.  He introduced a period of Africanisation, called Authenticity, banning the use of (French) Christian names amongst other things.  Interestingly, despite his criticisms of the Togolese regime, Packer does mention the fact that Eyadéma didn't really have the resources, as President of such a small country, to engage in excessive repression as was so common elsewhere in Africa, like Idi Amin's regime in Uganda, or the Apartheid regime in South Africa.  He points out that the Togolese regime, although inwardly oppressive, didn't really engage in the wider politics of West Africa and was only ever vaguely supportive of the leftist politics of its neighbours, Benin, Ghana and Burkina Faso (Upper Volta). 


Reverse Culture Shock

Something I could really relate to in Packer's story was the intense reverse culture shock he felt coming back to the West.  I imagine most of us don't really realise what we're taking on when we decide to live in another country, especially one with extreme poverty and daily hardship.  Nor do we expect the infectious joy of life lived in a way that doesn't revolve around greed and money-making.  It's obvious that Packer really came to feel part of the community that he lived with, so much so that, when he went to Barcelona for a Christmas break, he felt displaced and could relate more to the Africans he met there, than the European culture so similar to his own.  It was also interesting when he went to visit the north of Togo, a region that is very culturally and ethnically different than Lavie, he also felt a kind of 'culture shock' and the unfamiliarity of a different people than the ones he was living with.

I experienced something similar, returning to Uzbekistan after a week in neighbouring Kyrgyzstan, everything in Uzbekistan suddenly felt so familiar and it really felt as though I was coming home. 

The Cicada's Life


An overarching theme of Packer's book is the wasted lives of some of the people he met in Togo.  He writes three really touching portraits towards the end of the book, about three different men he had become friends with and how they had each failed to acheive their full potential, in a country that, despite being their country of birth, was holding them back in so many ways.  It's the travesty of an intellectual mind, in a regime that cared little for independent thinking.  The concept of the Cicada's life for an intellectual in an oppressive regime is based on the premise that if you want to live happily, you need to live hidden. 

The significance of the title of Packer's book was not lost on me.  Amongst the joy and horror of life in the village, he also explores the monotony of life for the villagers, which is a constant round of toil and hardship, interrupted by occasional funerals which, far from being mournful, acted as a good excuse for a knees-up. 

The Ewe word for tomorrow is etso, which is the same as the word for yesterday or any day which is not today.  Other words I learned from Packer's book were: yovo, kazoo, baché, prestidigitation, kapok, iroko.

Image credits:

The image of the book cover was taken by me.

The photos of Togo were taken in 1984, around the same time that George Packer was living there, and have been provided copyright free by flickuser Paul-W - thanks Paul for sharing these images using the Creative Commons License. 

Sunday, 19 September 2010

Togo - Woezo!

It's more than 3,000 miles (or 5,000 kilometres) from the Saudi capital to Lome, the capital of my next country, Togo!  I'm quite excited to be blogging about Togo as it's a country I know practically nothing about.  Until I started researching this blog, I didn't even know what the capital of Togo was and I would have been hard pushed to pick out the Togolese flag from the range of similar flags of West African nations.

I've just started learning about Togo and I know now that it is a small slither of a country sandwiched between Ghana and Benin.  Togo is approximately the same size as Croatia, less than half the size of England and slightly smaller than West Virginia.  It has a population of over 6 million people and is made up of various different tribes and languages, the main one being the Ewe people of the south coast (including the capital). 

Something that fascinates me about Togo is that it was colonised by (the newly unified) Germany during 'the Scramble for Africa', one of two German colonies in West Africa (the other one being Cameroon).  Germany's colonial ambitions came to end after the First World War and the German Togoland was divided between Britain and France, British Togoland being incorporated into their neighbouring colony in Ghana, French Togoland becoming an autonomous country within French West Africa.  I'm not sure how much of a legacy the Germans left behind, as French is now the lingua franca, as in most of West Africa.  It's something I'm interested in exploring. 

I've got a couple of books lined up, have already spotted a Togolese dish I want to cook and I've started listening to some Togolese music.  So sit back, relax and enjoy the ride - the video I'm posting is from YouTube and fascinates me, just watching the coast glide past, you get a sense of what life is like in downtown Lome.  The artist is called Yawo and I really like the song Mi La Woe, which translates something like 'let's keep pulling together'.



Image credits:

The map of Togo is from Wikipedia, but originally came from the CIA's World Factbook and is in the public domain.