Planning in Paradise — Fiji
By Marc Schlossberg
Cultural Barriers to Planning
Being a planner in today's world is not always easy. Competing forces demand our attention and thought — environmental protection versus economic prosperity, individual property rights versus collective social responsibility, and citizen participation versus top-down planning. Trying to accommodate these tugs are especially difficult under increasingly limited economic resources and greater demand for accountability. But perhaps the newest, significant emerging potential barrier for planners is to know, and be trusted by, the unique community cultures of the people we serve. Community-based projects often fail if the community is not involved, but negotiating our entry into a new community can be difficult, time-consuming, and frustrating. Yet, I believe that the key for sustainability in community-based projects lies in the mutual trust and respect developed between neighborhood citizens and planners.
The following account is of my experience identifying cultural barriers in Fiji. I went to Fiji as a Peace Corps Management and Planning Advisor to the Ministry of Regional Development. That role consisted of transferring skills to local counterparts on how to identify, manage, implement, and evaluate rural development projects, how to develop a long-term planning vision so that development is consistent and uses resources more efficiently, and how to integrate GIS into the planning and project management process. I believe that my observations have relevance to most planners who are working within new environments and new communities whether abroad or at home.
My focus is not on Fiji's built environment or traditional planning topics such as land use, transportation, environment, and so on, but on the potential cultural barriers to planning. The aim is to highlight the environment in which planning is to take place — the pre-conditions prior to the planning process.
Fiji — Brief Overview
Fiji is divided into about 300 inhabited islands with the total land mass equaling the size of Massachusetts. On an American-centric world map, Fiji is a tiny dot in the South Pacific (on less exact maps, Fiji sometimes falls in the nowhere zone that is lost as the Pacific ocean is cut to fit on a flat page), but living on the main island in the country itself, the land seems to go on forever. Most of the islands were formed volcanically and thus contain high, steep mountains, lush vegetation, and rich soil. Some islands are mere atolls, rising only meters above sea level. About 70 percent of the people live in rural areas, some in the interior of the bigger islands, and some in beautiful coastal locations. The other 30 percent (and a growing percentage) live in urban and semi-urban areas with Suva, the capital, being the largest urban center. Suva stands in contrast to the tropical image with its tall buildings, smog belching vehicles, and general urban feel.
The population of Fiji is split almost equally between indigenous Fijians and Fijian-Indians (or Indo-Fijians), descendants from Indians lured to Fiji by the British over a century ago. About 5 percent of the population is made up of Chinese, other Pacific Islanders, and expatriates. Fiji achieved independence from Britain in 1970, but in 1987, racial tensions climaxed in a bloodless military coup which installed an Indigenous Fijian government to replace the democratically elected Indo-Fijian parliamentary majority.
Besides the political significance, the coup also had a direct impact on planning in Fiji. The current government, still led by the coup's leader, runs under a new racially biased constitution which favors the indigenous population. As such, the government has developed special programs to assist the indigenous people in many ways, including development, the ability to secure financial resources, and access to education.
One other significant impact of the coup was to enforce a dual system of rural development. Under this system, there is one path for Indigenous Fijians to seek development aid and another path for every citizen, including the indigenous people, to follow. Thus there are parallel, concurrent government systems for development of the rural area, creating issues and difficulties in coordination, allocation of resources, delineation of responsibilities, consistency, and priorities. Perhaps more importantly, there is a growing sense of government entitlement from the rural indigenous community because the military coup and the new affirmative action programs were created on their behalf. It is no surprise then, that there is also a growing resentment within the Indo-Fijian population (again, almost 50 percent of the people) because government policies overtly discriminate against them. Combine all of the racial issues with a growing rural-urban migration problem, increasing crime problem, increasing urbanization, an increase in cash dependency by one-time self-sufficient communities, and an economic shift toward an export economy with its associated debt and dependence on foreign aid, and you have an interesting climate under which to be a rural planner.
Cultural Differences
Understanding cultural differences are necessary before attempting to be a planner, or even to transfer planning skills in this environment. These unique cultural characteristics are not only differences, they are actually barriers to an American approach to planning. Therefore, it was imperative for me to understand the culture first, before attempting to modify my knowledge and experience from the United States to be culturally appropriate and effective. This is an important point for any planner, whether in the United States or abroad. Each community has its own culture, and if the planning process proceeds without understanding and respecting that culture, then there is a high likelihood that new projects will fail.
There are four primary aspects of Fijian society which influenced how I worked: the planning spirits, the Pacific way, the top down approach, and communalism. My discussions center mostly on the Indigenous Fijian population because my office and the communities my office served were mostly indigenous and rural. Also, most of the government positions within the Ministry of Regional Development that have a planning element in it were held by Indigenous Fijians. I have tried to view the system and culture in Fiji as different, not better or worse necessarily, to that of the United States. It is important to recognize this point because in working with communities which have different values, it will be fruitless to try to convert their values at the same time as trying to implement planning and development. The cultures must be respected as legitimate on their own and be worked with to meet mutual goals.
The Planning Spirits
The whole professional field of planning gets off to a bad start in Fiji because in some communities planning is essentially taboo. The history of this taboo can be illustrated by a short myth. In one village, two women were talking one evening. After a while, one woman started to ask questions about going fishing the following day. She asked where they should go, what time they should meet, and what things they should bring with them — essentially she was trying to plan for her fishing trip. In so doing, the spirits overheard her and were not happy. So the next morning at the time the two women were supposed to meet, the spirits made the one woman who was doing the planning keep sleeping and the spirits took the shape of her body. The spirit woman met the other village woman and they went down to the fishing grounds which were usually abundant with fish. This day however, due to the presence of the spirits, all of the fish were scared away and the women were not able to catch anything.
The moral of this story, and one that is common throughout Fiji, is that to plan is to spoil things; rewards come to those who live for the day. There are obviously implications of this type of belief as it relates to the professional field of planning and to the stated government goals of regional development. Such as how can development be effective, consistent, coordinated or appropriate if it cannot be planned? When has an haphazard approach toward development, especially in an increasing economically developing nation ever led to anything other than a poor use of natural and financial resources, an ineffective use of space, and just poor long-term decisions?
The Pacific Way
The entire South Pacific already has a reputation of taking things easy, moving slowly, and to not worrying about anything but today. Fiji definitely echoes this style of life. And why not? Fiji is incredibly fertile and lush. Food grows wildly everywhere and planting something new only requires placing a seed in the ground; within a few days the seed will have sprouted. Additionally, the weather is generally very nice, never getting too cold in the winter. There is no problem of food scarcity or any worries about remaining safe in inclement weather — so why worry about tomorrow? Why plan for it?
Top Down Approach
The third impediment toward planning, at least American styled, is the pervasive top down social hierarchy. From birth, Fijians learn to respect authority and withhold action unless sanctioned by that authority. There are three social institutions which create and reinforce this top-down mentality: the chiefly system, the church, and the educational system.
The chiefly system is very strong in Fiji. Most Fijians are still brought up in the village, but even those who live in urban or semi-urban areas still closely identify with the village of their father and the chiefly decisions made there. Most people cannot speak to the chief unless they are spoken to first. It is not even allowed for people to physically rise above the chief's head because it is taboo to think that you are better (or above) the chief in any way. The chief has his advisors, mainly the village elders, but the chief's decisions are final. This is a hierarchy clearly established and reinforced throughout village life.
The church is the second arena where the top-down social hierarchy is established. Fijian communities are extremely religious, mostly following a branch of Christianity which was introduced to Fiji by missionaries in the 1850s. (The missionaries were able to influence such a great number of people by converting the chiefs first. Once the chiefs converted they told their villagers to convert as well, which in general they did.) Fijians often attend church three times on Sunday and two additional times during the week. While high church attendance does not make someone a good follower of religious teachings, it does reinforce the role of the minister as an authority figure to obey. Many sermons concentrate on the faults of the congregation, thereby reinforcing the need for people to listen to and to follow the minister, the church authority figure.
The final main reinforcer of a strict social hierarchy is the educational system. In the schools, principals are essentially the law. Most schools are owned by the local community or by religious institutions, so the principals usually have community support. Most mornings there are school assemblies where the principal often highlights student deficiencies. And when a student does misbehave, it is common for that student to be sent to the principal and be hit with a stick. Again, this system reinforces the rightness of the authority figure over everyone else.
The result of all these hierarchical institutions is that people do not usually make decisions without the sanction of an authority figure. Obviously not everyone falls under this category, but it should be no surprise that when people enter the work place they wait for their boss to tell them what to do. If there is nothing to do or a particular assignment is completed, people generally do not initiate work for themselves on their own. This attitude is inherently against the notion of planning which requires a great deal of individual and independent thought, the ability to dream and reason and use logic. Thus, getting people to work together and to share individual ideas and opinions is a major barrier to developing a plan of action that is supported and has individual investment.
Communalism
The fourth cultural barrier toward planning is the collective nature of Fijian society. While initially this may sound like a plus for planning since collaboration and coordination are critical for effective plans, it is not advantageous. In the Fijian village, everything is owned by everybody, even if an individual purchased an item with his own money from his own private job. Private ownership of materials (or ideas) does not exist. Similarly, people do not like to stand out in any way. To be viewed as an individual is to be an outcast and this includes expressing individual opinions.
While communal-based societies are conducive to easily identifying development needs (and they may be a preferred lifestyle in general), the communal way of thought means that people working in the planning or development fields usually do no take individual initiative. The result is that people who should be involved in planning are really only a group of followers leaving decisions to the boss or an outside consultant. Obviously then, ideas are limited to a single individual, and if that person has neither the skills nor the interest in planning (which is often the case since the bosses are usually politically installed) then the whole process breaks down.
There are other barriers to planning in Fiji, but I believe the environment described above provides a basic illustration of the deep-rooted cultural differences which can get in the way of planning if they are not understood. While the examples may in some ways be unique to Fiji, in other ways they are probably very similar to situations in other developing nations as well as some situations in the United States. What is important about the experience is that it is worthwhile to understand the environment in which we attempt to plan before we try to introduce any grandiose ideas rooted in our own viewpoint. The one recurring reason for development failure in Fiji is the imposition of an idea by an outsider. This lesson is probably universal in that without the support of the people a development will affect, that project will most likely fail. And not only does failure result in a waste of time and resources, but it weakens the ability to build trust with the community and any long-term, sustainable relationship. Identifying and acknowledging these differences, and working to overcome them, is a key for planners to be effective in our multi-cultural, multi-lingual society.
Recommendations for Working with New Communities
Above, I highlighted some of the cultural barriers that I encountered in being a planner in Fiji, namely the planning spirits, the Pacific Way, the social hierarchies, and communalism. Now I want to describe the differences in our cultures. Again, one of the major reasons that community-based projects fail anywhere is the community is not properly involved. And a major reason why communities do not participate further is due to the cultural differences of the community and the planner. Negotiating our entry into a new community, however is key for the sustainability of our endeavors.
These recommendations are equally directed to those considering working abroad and to those who work directly with their own communities. Notice that the items below do not refer in any way to how to be a planner. The topics only discuss how to establish a favorable environment within which work can be done. The rest is up to you, your flexibility, your humor, and your attitude.
Take time to understand the culture/community.
As a planner from the United States in Fiji, I had immediate respect from the community. That did not mean, however, that I had people's trust. One way to build the trust was to understand the culture and to try as much as possible to become part of it. I did have a unique advantage because as a Peace Corps Volunteer I was given two months of cultural and language training. More importantly, I acted on what I learned. In my situation that included wearing a sulu, essentially a mid-calf length skirt, every day. In some cultures it may be offensive for an outsider to dress like locals do, but in Fiji it is a symbol of respect. Other examples from Fiji include: eating with my hands, saying a prayer before meals and meetings, not stepping over someone's outstretched legs, and walking behind rather than in front of people. There are many more examples, however the basic point is to take time, observe the culture, and try to adapt to it as much as possible.
In America, ask yourself who are the people you are serving. Do they have a unique culture? What are the community institutions and how can you approach those institutions in a respectful way? Are there significant groups of people of different racial backgrounds than you? How can you learn about the respect those differences?
Build trust.
Building trust is closely linked with understanding the culture, but is a more active endeavor than passively observing and understanding. Trust is the key to successfully performing job responsibilities. Without the trust of colleagues, efforts will not succeed. At least in Fiji, having a good relationship with coworkers can help assist in navigating through the bureaucracy of this foreign system. And also, when traveling out to communities, having the trust and confidence of colleagues can be the deciding factor in whether or not the villagers will listen.
There are two primary ways of building trust in Fiji. The first includes drinking yaqona with anyone who offers it. Yaqona (pronounced yahng-goh-nah) drinking is definitely unique to the South Pacific and thought it may not have direct relevance to planning in America, it is an interesting cultural characteristic. Yaqona is a cultural, social, and semi-professional drink, depending on the situation of office. It is made by combining the crushed roots of the kava plant with water. Yaqona is mixed in a tanoa, a large bowl made from a tree trunk, and served using half coconut shells called bilos. The drink is served one at a time in order of chiefly or government rank using the same cup. It is sometimes mildly intoxicating, but usually it just numbs the mouth.
The use of yaqona is widespread in Fiji and it almost always accompanies meetings of any importance. During meetings, it is served formally, out of respect to the people participating in the meeting. When the meeting ends, however, people usually hang around and continue drinking the grog. Sitting around the tanoa during this informal after-meeting time is often when the real work gets done. In a village situation, this informal time can literally last all night, especially if it is the final night of a multi-day visit. In my office, yaqona was sometimes prepared for meetings or when special visitors come in from the outer islands. For me to sit down and drink with everyone else was an instant way to build trust with complete strangers. And because everyone seems to know everyone else in Fiji, pretty soon many people knew that I "keep up with the locals" while drinking yaqona. In a way, Fiji offers this easy, if somewhat bitter, way to build trust which may not be available in other cultures.
The other main way to build trust is to sit with people. This sounds rather obvious since in America it is also necessary to build trust through actually being with other people. However, it is different in Fiji for two reasons. First, job performance will not always contribute to how much people trust you, which is opposite in America where being good at something is a precursor for someone to trust you. Secondly, actual verbal communication is not really needed; what really builds trust is to be in the presence of someone else. Sometimes this is done in complete silence. Staring down at the floor in silence with someone else is a good thing because it demonstrates that among all of life's possibilities for that moment, the choice is being made to be with that other person. Again, in America, silence is viewed as a bad or awkward time and we often feel the need to stimulate the conversation. Again, that is why it is necessary to understand the culture first, so that subtle aspects can be discovered which will help in the job later on.
In America, how can we build trust with the community we serve? Is it only through our work, or are there some extra-curricular activities which may help? Are there opportunities to informally interact with the community, perhaps at a fundraising event or a community cleanup?
Learn the language.
Nothing builds trust as much as trying to speak the local language; it show that you respect the local culture and are willing to adapt to their way of life. This does not mean that you need to be fluent; it just means that you should be interested enough in the local culture that you are willing to try to learn. Even if you are only facilitating a one week workshop, knowing how to say a few things in the local language will go a long way.
Is there a local language in your community? Spanish? Chinese? Hindi? What about professional languages, such as engineering or computing?
There are many lessons to be learned, but these recommendations should hopefully offer some insight into some of the cultural differences in Fiji. More importantly however, there are lessons from this experience which can be applied to other planning situations whether in rural Africa or urban Los Angeles. The thoughts here are not specific tips as to how to develop a land use plan or an environmental impact assessment in a foreign environment. What will help you to possibly achieve your goals however, is to appreciate the differences between people and to respect the citizens that your planning will ultimately impact. Remember that people no matter where they are wish to improve their standard of living. The key as a planner is to find a common language and respect in which we can do it together.
Marc Schlossberg is a doctoral student in the Urban, Technological, and Environmental Planning Program at the University of Michigan (schlossb@umich.edu).