At home in FijiGordon Cumming, C. F. (Constance Frederica)
History
At home in Fiji
Gordon Cumming, C. F. (Constance Frederica)
Fiji; Folklore -- Fiji
So far it simply answers to calico. If gorgeous apparel or handsome
furniture is required, it has next to be converted into painted _tappa_,
and this is the prettiest part of the process, and requires considerable
taste and skill. The patterns produced are exceedingly rich and handsome,
generally in shades of brown, sometimes with black or deep red. I have
seen pieces imported from Samoa in which a great deal of yellow is
introduced; but though the Samoan cloth is much stronger, it is less
tasteful. To sketch the design, the artist arranges thin strips of
bamboo upon a convex board, and between them the pattern is indicated by
curved bits of the midrib of a cocoa-nut leaf. The cloth is laid over
this board and rubbed with a dye, which displays the pattern below, and
thus the ground-work is prepared. Then the borders are very elaborately
painted by a sort of stencil-work, the pattern being cut out of a banana
leaf, heated over the fire, and laid on the _masi_. Then with a soft pad
of cloth, dipped either in vegetable charcoal and water, or red earth
liquefied with the sap of the candle-nut tree, or any other dye that
takes her fancy, the artist does her work with deft neat fingers. I have
succeeded in buying several small pieces of very beautiful design. The
larger ones are generally being made by the order of some chief, or for
some especial festivity.
Another process which I have watched with considerable interest is that
of the girls preparing _mandrai_, which is bread made of bananas and
bread-fruit. A Fijian baker’s oven is simply a pit lined with plantain
leaves and filled with bananas or bread-fruit, on which the girls tread
to compress them into a pulpy mass: this they then cover with a thick
layer of green leaves and stones, and leave it to ferment, a process
which begins about the third day. The indescribable stench which poisons
the air for half-a-mile round on the day when these dreadful pits are
opened is simply intolerable,—at least to the uneducated nose of us, the
_papalangi_ (_i.e._, foreigners); but the Fijian inhales it with delight,
therein scenting the bread and puddings in which he most delights.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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