The lectures from Tuiavii from Tivea (I)

[Guest guest]

Introduction by Erich Scheurmann

(I translated some excerpts from German into English)

The lectures of Samoan chief Tuiavii from Tiavea to the

members of his tribe

The palm tree will cast off its leaves and fruits when they

are ripe.

The Papalagi (literally foreigner, meant is white man) is

living as if the palm tree would want to hold on to its leaves

and fruits: "They are mine! You are not allowed to have them

or to eat from it!"

How could the palm tree bear new fruits?

The palm tree has much more wisdom then the Papalagi.

 

It was never Tuiavii's intention, to publish these lectures or

to have them printed at all; they were exclusively meant for

his compatriots. If nevertheless, without his knowing and

certainly against his will, I am transmitting the lectures of

this native to the world of Europe's readers, it is happening

in the convincement, that it also for us whites and illumined

ones is worthwhile, to experience, how the eyes of someone

close to nature are looking at us and our culture. With his

eyes we experience ourselves from a perspective, we ourselves

never can have.[...]

About the stone boxes

The Papalagi is living like a sea mussel in a fixed housing.

He is living between stones, like a centipede between the

cracks of lava.

[...]

This way, in Europe as many people are living, as palm trees

are growing in Samoa; yes, even many more. Some do have a

yearning for woods , sun and light; however, generally this is

looked upon as a disease, one has to conquer oneself. If

someone isn't satisfied with this stony life, it is said: he

is an unnatural man; what has to be meant as: he doesn't know

what God has ordained for man. These boxes of stone are

grouped together closely in large numbers, no tree, no bush

does separate them, they are standing like people, shoulder to

shoulder, and in each one as many Papalagi are living as in an

entire Samoan village. At a distance of a stone's throw, at

the other side, there is an equal series of boxes of stone,

again shoulder to shoulder and here too people are living. So

between both rows there is just a narrow crack, called

"street" by the Papalagi. This crack often is as long as a

river and covered with hard stones.

[...]

The noise is huge. Your ears are stunned, because the horses

are slamming their hooves on the stone floor, the people are

slamming with the hard skins on their feet on it. Children are

crying, men are yelling, out of joy or out of horror, all are

yelling. You cannot make yourself understood other than by

yelling too. There is a general buzzing, rattling, stomping,

droning, as if you are standing at the steep surf of Savaii on

a day a heavy storm is raging. And yet that raging is lovelier

and doesn't take your sense away as the raging in the cracks.

Now this all together: the boxes of stone with the many

people, the high cracks of stone coming and going like a

thousand rivers, the people inside them, the clamoring and

raging, the smoke over everything, no tree, no blue sky,

without fresh air and clouds is this, what the Papelagi is

calling a city. His creation, at which he is very proud.

[...]

Between all islands of stone is the real land, is that, what

one calls Europe. Here, the land is partly beautiful and

fertile, like with us. There are trees, rivers and woods, and

here also are genuine villages. Even if the huts are made from

stone, they are surrounded with many fruit trees, the rain can

wash them from all sides and the wind can dry them again. In

these villages other people with other senses are living than

in the city. They are called land-people. They have bigger

hands and dirtier loincloths than the people from the city,

although they are having much more to eat than these. Their

live is much healthier and more beautiful than that of the men

from the cracks. But they themselves don't believe it and envy

anyone they are calling do-nothing, because those don't have

to touch the earth and to put fruits in and out. They are

living in enmity with them, because they have to give food

from their land, have to pick fruits that the men from the

cracks are eating, have to guard and raise the cattle until it

is fat and give him half of it. Anyhow, they are having the

trouble to produce food for the men from the cracks and they

don't see, why those are wearing more beautiful loincloths

than they themselves are and having more beautiful white

hands, not having to sweat in the sun and to freeze in the

rain than they are.

The man from the cracks don't care a bit about this. He is

convinced to have higher rights than the man from the land and

that his work is more valuable than fruits putting in and

taking out the earth. This battle between both parties isn't

such, that there would be war between them.

[...]

However we, who are free children of the sun and the light,

want to remain faithful to the great Spirit and not burden his

heart with stones. Only confused, sick people, not holding

God's hand anymore, can live happily between cracks of stone,

without sun, light and wind. Let us grant the Papelagi his

doubtful happiness but stamp out any effort to build boxes of

stone on our sunny beaches and to destroy our joy with stone,

cracks, dirt, noise, smoke and dust, as is his objective.