Kirstin M. Johnson and Dr. Julie Hartley, Socio-Cultural Anthropology
Thousands of years ago the ancestors of the Tongan people brought with them a tree that would harvest bark prime for making cloth. Since then, Tongan women have exploited the resources of the paper mulberry tree (Broussonetia papyrifera) to produce a bark cloth they term ngatu. Today, fewer and fewer women make ngatu, yet, all women are perpetually in need of it since the cloth itself socially, ceremonially, and sometimes economically supports their lives. Women work endlessly to produce and give this honored fabric due to ingrained feelings of duty to fulfill cultural norms that retard change and leave no room for threats of ngatu’s extinction.
My research focuses on the way in which ngatu supports, represents, and relates to the life of a small sample of women who produce it, and includes a glimpse at the relationship between ngatu and those women who do not produce it. After examining the women’s habits and opinions surrounding the production and utilization of ngatu, it is evident that ngatu acts as a fortification of position, an article of social exchange, and an instrument for economic perpetuation. The ethnographic base of this article is founded in four months of field research in which I conducted two separate trips to Tonga in the summers of 2002 and 2003. The bulk of my findings are a result of multiple formal and informal interviews, surveys, and my own participation in the Tongan way of life. Upon arriving, I nestled myself into one of the small suburbs of the capital city of Nuku’Alofa and began my attempt to understand the women behind the ngatu. At the end of my first week in Tonga I wrote,
I heard the sounds of the pounding of the tutu this morning like every morning since I’ve been here. It’s like a tapping of life. It lives in collaboration with the barking dogs, grunting pigs, crowing roosters, insects, and not to mention the sounds of church bells and choir songs in the distance. Today, being my seventh day here in Tonga, I decided to be bold and venture out to find the source of the sound. (Johnson 2002: 8-9)
It was this venture that led me to meet some of the local women who make this fabric on a daily basis. Today, I consider them all dear friends. I have worked with them, laughed with them, and cried with them and I attribute all my understanding of ngatu to those kind women who so patiently explained their seemingly simple, yet vital, way of life to me. As a result, my final thesis includes a large sum of raw ethnographic material to allow others to “hear” these women explain the way ngatu relates to their life the way I did.
Fulfilling social, economic, and ceremonial purposes ngatu acts as a function and manifestation of Tongan society subject to—and perhaps a catalyst for—the changes that may occur in society. Particularly, ngatu presents itself at all major occasions including rites of passage, political ceremonies, and traditional celebrations and acts as a visual and tangible symbol of “the Tongan way”. Simultaneously, ngatu helps to sustain the economic life of the women who produce it and those who sell it by being subjected to a minimal degree of commoditization and, therefore, becoming a manifestation of, and even a vehicle for, manipulation and alteration of “the Tongan way”.
Socially, through the act of presenting ngatu to persons of rank and position, the Tongan people silent show their respect and appreciation to their leaders as well as recommit their obedience and devotion. It is the way that the people tangibly honor their superiors. Thus, ngatu bolsters kinship rank and stratification by providing a material symbol of the reciprocal relationship of position and authority. Today, it is the social obligation of all women to provide koloa (gifts of mats or ngatu) for social and ceremonial purposes to fortify ritual institutions, kinship rank, and social standing amongst peers. Notably, modern women have retained traditional techniques of production on the whole; it has only been in the past couple of decades that women have adopted ever so slight manipulations of an ageless method.
Economically, ngatu plays an important, but delicate, role for the women of Tonga. The tourist market for “functional traditional arts” has been “slow to materialize” in Tonga. (Kirch, 1984: 109) As a result, the sale of ngatu in and outside of Tonga is fostered mostly by other Tongan women not tourists. Yet, producing ngatu solely for sale is not accepted. As one woman proclaimed, “Very few women go to the koka’anga with the objective of selling it. The family will fall into some financial difficulty and then they’ll sell the ngatu. It’s not our goal to make it to sell it.” (pers. comm. Aug. 21, 2003). Still, the production and marketing of ngatu materials is booming and most women who make ngatu today participate in the buying and selling of ngatu materials in every stage of the ngatu-making process. What’s more, those who choose not to make it are forced to enter into the domestic market for completed ngatu. Thus, ngatu is now an important factor in financially supporting and/or straining the Tongan household.
Overall, I have gained invaluable information in my pursuit of understanding of the Tongan way of life in regard to a complex and fascinating item of material culture. Still, my research has only scraped the surface. My recommendations for future study include a more detailed analysis of the rising domestic market for ngatu and its affect on the Tongan household. More research and analysis on Tongan household statistics, especially in regard to women’s work, is long overdue.
Additionally, the process and use of ngatu is changing. A more detailed account of the current trends for those women who do not produce ngatu is in order. Finally, a study of the ranking and stratification of ngatu would be beneficial to truly understanding this type of material art. Fig. 1: A ngatu pattern.