Column 5--A Town Called Levuka

This is the fifth column in a serialization of PACIFIC FLASH: A Year in FIJI by Gerry Takano. Copies will be available April 1, 2010. Stay tuned for more information.

Levuka, nestled on the tiny island of Ovalau east of the larger Viti Levu island, soon became the first municipal council and capital of Fiji, then a British crown colony. As a seaport with a backdrop of magnificent tropical peaks and a fine, deep harbor, Levuka attracted foreigners eager to start new lives in this South Seas community. The political and social status as the first capital, however, lasted only until 1882. The decision to move the capital to Suva, on the larger island of Viti Levu, was proclaimed. Suva, with more available land, became the new capital. Tiny Levuka disappeared from grace and into obscurity and economic decline until the 1970s. Various interest groups confirmed that Levuka’s unique, intact historical building stock and its rural, eclectic way of life were untapped assets. Levuka, according to a heritage tourism report, had a potential as an alternative visitor destination in contrast with west Fiji, an area that capitalized on drier weather and white sand beaches, neither of which Levuka possessed. The idea of a tourist destination based on a historical precedent was common in Australia or the United States, but it was untested in the economically depressed Levukan environment.

As the Western world celebrated its revolutionary virtual online e-commerce and investment victories in early 21st century proliferation, Fiji stirred with tribal ethnic revolt. Armed rebels stormed the Fiji Parliament and seized authority in a land. The media, witnesses to the breakdown of chiefdom hierarchy, reported indigenous people battled the imported Indian mercantile class. No matter what the perspective, these events in the Fiji islands were frustrating and exhausting. For Western expatriates and visitors who ventured to the docile tourism enclaves of the Fijian shores, Fiji endured as a vivid tropical memory -- a passive and calmer place void of their own internal conflicts.

Levuka, a small town of approximately two thousand descendants of agrarian farmers, seafaring warriors and merchants, became home for a brief but provocative year. Apart from the ethnic tensions or landownership issues, what fascinated me were the European “expatriates” and their attempts to accommodate, acquire and secure their own reality and space in a foreign place. My personal observations, more specifically, confirmed the expatriate community as key players in the heritage revival of this forgotten town. The local society kept a safe distance from the enthusiastic newcomers; we were a privileged clique that was tolerated and strangely venerated. The pervasive gossip survived and lingered since the 1800s – diverse characters, visitors and locals all exposed their nefarious or compassionate roles within that short one year.

Like the reefs that protected the volcanic islands, the life of the expatriate was buff ered from volatile village rivalries or political intrigues that rarely surfaced and confronted us. In this serene and remote environment and atmosphere, expatriate contributions had less than profound implications. Post colonial gratification was restrained; in the mid 1990s European patrimony, providence, propriety and traditions lingered on. Indeed there was no shortage of heavenly afternoon tea and scrumptious and dainty cakes.

Gerry Takano was reared in Honolulu, Hawaii and received his architectural education and early training in upstate New York and Boston. Gerry served as Hawaii’s National Trust Advisor and State of Hawaii Commissioner of the Historic Sites Review Board.

He currently resides in the San Francisco Bay Area and can be reached at gertkno@aol.com