THERE are different meanings of tattoos on a person’s body. And one may wonder why they choose certain symbol or its significance.
While some may consider it improper to wear a tattoo, there is a need to understand its significance and its meaning to those wearing it.
To the Pacific Islanders, tattoos and tapa are linked because of their designs which signify different perspective of life.
Some of us have tattoos done because we see our friends with tattoos, others wear them as a memory of the school they attended while some had them inked on their bodies just for fun.
Dr Frances C Koya Vaka’uta of the University of the South Pacific explained at the TED (Technology, Entertainment, and Design) conference in Suva that the designs used in tapa and tattoo, whatever the occasion, whether imprinted on bark cloth or on skin depicts different symbols as a a means of communication — which allowed the individual, and community to negotiate relationships, roles and responsibilities.
Dr Vaka’uta said these visual graphics acted as a stimulus to evoke a particular emotional and behavioural response.
“Each design points to an origin story — a cosmology — a historical event; and genealogies for example,” Dr Vaka’uta said.
“We might theorise that the limitations of an oral culture led to the development of the use of symbols to help us remember important aspects of our belief system.
In both sites, tapa had functional and ritual uses.
“As a textile, it was used as clothing, bedding, curtains and medicinal treatments, as a cultural item of wealth, tapa is used in ceremonial gifting at birth, marriage, and death.”
In addressing the hundreds of audience, the USP lecturer revealed her research journey taught her about being, belonging, knowing and learning — the four basic elements of sustainable living from an indigenous perspective.
She then focused her examples on two art forms: bark cloth, known as tapa and tattooing, in two Polynesian islands, Samoa and Tonga.
“I chose Samoa and Tonga because I had access to these two cultural communities — through my maternal heritage and my husband’s Tongan lineage.
“Even though I am a Fijian by nationality, I didn’t feel I had the right to research into the closed knowledge systems in the indigenous Fijian context.
“And so I focused on the knowledge bases that I have rightful access to.
“I wanted to find out about the kind of cultural teaching and learning spaces that surround tapa and tattooing.
“And I wanted to know about possible cross-cultural connections, given a period of Tongan occupation in Samoa, which historians believe lasted around 200-300 years.” Because of her curiosity to find out what similarities may exist between the two cultural groups, she was also excited to find the basic building blocks for many motifs in Lapita pottery.
“The Lapita peoples are considered to be the early settlers of the Pacific islands, having travelled through the region around 3000 years ago, therefore, we can see some basic similarities.”
Between Lapita, Dr Vaka’uta explained that Tongan tapa designs or kupesi and Samoan upeti, designs on wooden tapa boards was possible to identify by name 32 distinct Tongan designs and 16 Samoan designs each of which held meaning, and captured a narrative, or multiple narratives.
She explained that in both communities, the designs can be clustered in three main categories: land, sky and sea, which feature abstract symbols of plants, animals and birds.
In Tonga, however, a fourth category of symbols relate to nobility.
Dr Vaka’uta said that while most people believed that all forms of written communication were introduced through contact with the outside world, through colonisation and christianity, she said this was not true.
“Our motifs are not just pretty designs.
” While they are admired for their aesthetics, they are in fact part of a complex system of graphic communication.
“A form of cultural literacy which means, each symbol can be read and understood.”
She also shared the story of her late maternal grandmother who was the eldest daughter of a paramount chief from Sale’imoa and Nofoali’i, in Samoa and she had obtained a traditional tattoo when she turned 19.
While her grandma loved to tell stories about her life, Dr Vaka’uta said she still wondered what the symbols on her grandmother’s tattoo meant and her explanation was that her tattoo was a unique one and one that could never be found on any other person.
“Flash-forward 20 odd years to 2012: I embarked on a research journey that would transform the way I see the world and my place in it.
“There are also a number of shared designs and meaning in both Samoan and Tongan tapa.”
She said both the Samoan and Tongan versions began when there was nothing but darkness and ocean. With variations, the basic storyline was the same.
“In the beginning, numerous Tangaloa deities began their respective tasks in creating the universe. Setting out on a journey to explore the new world, the plover flew across the great expanse of ocean and after a long period of flight, grew tired. The bird called out for a place to rest so, Tangaloa – the builder, threw down some rocks from his work station. By this time, the sun had been created so, a vine began to grow – providing cover.
“It was from a decaying creeper that a worm emerged. The bird pecked at the worm which broke into pieces becoming the first humans.”
“In the Tongan version, the plover was the manifestation of one of the Tangaloa deities, while in the Samoan version the bird was a messenger.
For the Samoans, the story reinforced beliefs about the connections between gods, nature and humans.
For the Tongans, the message was about social status and place. The descendants of gods became the nobility. The descendants of worms were soulless commoners born to serve.
From a sociological perspective, these narratives were created with purpose. They reinforced basic ideas about the social network.
The story of the plover was an example of a genealogical narrative captured in symbols.
Samoan tapa and tattoos carry motifs which feature the worm and the bird.
Tongan tapa, does the same but the plover design bears the Samoan name for the bird, rather than the Tongan name — reinforcing the cultural ties between the two groups.
So what about tattooing?
In Tonga, tattooing was banned by the Vavau Code of 1839, which was published in the Wesleyan Missionary Notices of 1840. The code outlawed circumcision, tattoo practice and other “idolatrous ceremonies” because of their spiritual and religious rituals.
Of course, some Tongans rebelled making the journey to Samoa to obtain the traditional tattoo. This rebellion tells us that their value for the traditional tattoo outweighed the consequences and penalties which awaited them when they returned home.
Over time, the impact of the code meant that many Tongans I spoke with did not know that tattooing was once a cultural practice. They associated tattooing, with Samoans and other Polynesians, hooligans, bikers from movies and criminals.
In Samoa, traditional tattoo practice continues today. It comprises the pe’a (male tattoo), the malu (female tattoo), tapu lima (hand tattoo) and the arm band (which is said to have been created as a souvenir for homeward bound peace corp volunteers). Some say the tapu lima or sacred hand tattoo was for medicinal purposes in the treatment of arthritis, while others say, it rendered the young woman, worthy of serving kava, the traditional drink of ritual.
The male tattoo, the pe’a spans the lower torso, thighs, and partial pubic region.
Early accounts say that the Tongan peka was similar.
The female Samoan tattoo, the malu, spans the thighs.
Tattoo practice in Samoa refers to a coming of age, a readiness to take on cultural roles and responsibilities, imprinting the status of a young chief, the village virgin, and warriors.
William Mariner provides one of the most comprehensive pre-Christian accounts of Tongan culture and politics. He records tattoo practice associated with male warriors. Other early accounts describe Tongan men with full body tattoos and the peka.
Tongan women are said to have had scarification in concentric circles on various parts of the body, as well as tattoos between the fingers, on the thighs, face and legs.
The loss of tattoo culture in Tonga meant that the current tattoo renaissance has seen the revival of the peka, using these old images, or stylised versions of the Samoan pe’a.
The most common practice, in Tonga is to use tapa designs in tattoo. Young people say they chose these designs as a cultural reference to their heritage and identity.
It is also common to see shoulder tattoos and sleeves, with designs derived from the Samoan male pe’a and tapa motifs, as well as mixing of other Polynesian designs such as NZ Maori, Marquesas and Tahiti.
In Samoa, we see a reversal of this. Tattoo designs are now found on both tapa and fabric prints.
This cross-over is a contemporary re-imagining of identity continuing a tradition of graphic communication.
It is an example of re-creating our narratives and while this may be seen as cultural continuity, some big questions emerge.
Male tattoo designs refer to a man’s place and cultural responsibility.
Now through contemporary tattoo and fabric prints, these are widely used and worn by women in Samoa and elsewhere in the Pacific.
If you think about the design as a symbol, the placement of these within a tapa or tattoo is significant.
While the tattoo may look similar in its overall design and placement, the select designs within each is specific to the individual — telling a story.
Traditionally, whether in tapa or tattoo, designs may be ranked — some were reserved for chiefs, for a particular family, and others, were gendered symbols.
Each design is considered a vessel, endowed with mana (a spiritual energy or life force) that is given to the individual.
We may argue that mana is lost by a change in beliefs and the indiscriminate use of symbols. So what does it mean for women to wear male symbols or vice versa?
What does it mean to appropriate a cultural symbol that has spiritual significance to a particular group of people?
The cultural practice of tapa and tattooing and their symbols, point to a shared life philosophy —that of the va — simply defined as relational spaces.
The sacred space tells of living in balance — within the self, in community, with the gods, the ancestors, and nature.
The motif as symbol in graphic communication presents a powerful repository or lexicon of indigenous knowledge and values.
Whatever reason may be, a tattoo is often a symbol of a story, waiting to be told. It may be skin-deep, but its significance sometimes goes deeper. The messages sent by body art are cultural identity or an individual’s self-expression, and there are motifs that can reveal something about the wearer.
