Conference 2000 - 25th Annual Conference
Association of Social Anthropologists of Aotearoa/New Zealand

ANTHROPOLOGY IN TIMES OF RISK

 

Presented Paper

Bougainville: A time of uncertainty

Rachael Hinton
University of Waikato.

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Over the course of a month this year, I had the opportunity to make an exploratory visit to South-West Bougainville due to an association I had with the Bougainville Community Water Supply Project. This project is based in the district of Siuai and has the goal of establishing a community-based rainwater catchment, to provide safe water for communities in South-West Bougainville and to contribute towards the peace process through the restoration of basic services.

The incident I will now refer to took place on completion of the 3rd day of a 6 day village-based women's workshop. I had over the previous three days, observed and participated in a programme which, as part of the Water Supply Project, provided practical training to women in the construction of cement water jars and also combined the discussion of community topics of particular relevance to women. The workshop was facilitated by three local women, Veronica and Vincencia, both 24 and Eileen, a 45-year-old woman recently employed by the Project for her experience, leadership and her valuable contacts throughout the district.

The women were in very high spirits as they believed the first 3 days of the workshop had been a success and having spent 2 nights away, they were looking forward to returning to their villages. Therefore, having packed the vehicle, we commenced the hour-long journey to the Project base, stopping after a short time to give a group of women a lift to their village. As we did so, two men also approached our vehicle wanting a lift. It was clear however, one was extremely intoxicated, probably on Jungle Juice, the local spirit or homebrew made from fermented pineapple, coconut or watermelon.

Over the previous weeks, I had continuously heard about Jungle Juice, its harmful effects and the disapproval that much of the community had towards its consumption. Not only did people believe it caused those who drank it serious physical and social problems, they also recognised that the associated drunkenness had a negative impact on the community at large. Therefore, quite a long exchange took place between our driver, a very hesitant Eileen and the two men and I felt there was a sense of unease at the prospect of having the men along for the ride. However, our driver and Eileen finally succumbed, the men clambered on the back of the vehicle and we continued. Eileen reassuringly asserted that it had been agreed that the men were allowed a ride only if they looked after our belongings on the back.

It then started to rain heavily and visibility on the pot-holed road became increasingly difficult. (I use the word 'road' freely. What used to be a double lane asphalt road was reclaimed by the jungle during the Crisis and therefore is now in a state of disrepair, barely wide enough for one vehicle). Suddenly a hand started banging on the window to the left of Veronica, reaching so far as to hit my window a number of times. The banging continued and no one said a word to each other. Instead, Eileen started praying aloud, "dear god take control, we are in your hands, please look after us, we trust you to take control".

It was about this time that I began to get nervous and my mind was racing: "why is she praying? This must be really bad if she is praying". We finally stopped, only to see the man who was drunk stumbling beside the vehicle with Veronica's bag. Veronica quickly opened her door to grab it but instead he gave the bag to her and continued passing her others off the back of the vehicle. "It's ok" she said, "he is looking after our bags so he doesn't want them to get wet". We were all very relieved.

Our trip resumed after he got back on the vehicle and Eileen started to sing a hymn, loudly. Her song was abruptly interrupted by a knock on the roof for the vehicle to stop. The man who was drunk fell off the side of the vehicle into the bushes, just avoiding impaling himself on his 1 1/2 foot long bush knife. The next instant he stumbled to the front of the vehicle and in what I assumed was an attempt to block our way, stood there, threateningly holding his bush-knife out in front of him. His friend went to get him out of the way but he angrily shook him off.

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© Rachael Hinton
Not to be downloaded or quoted from without the author's permission.