Where Two Rivers Meet: An Analysis of Trance and Ritual Practice in Fiji

Fiji has a reputation worldwide as being a country that welcomes tourists with open arms. Though much of Fijian society has been influenced by Western thought and philosophy, its indigenous culture still thrives. It is this connection to ancestral tradition and ritual practice, along with its beautiful landscapes and vistas, that makes Fiji such a popular tourist destination. Fijian eco-tourism has become increasingly popular in recent years due to the high demand for “indigenous knowledge” on the part of the Western tourist (Mulcock 50). I got the privilege to spend a week in Fiji in April of this year. Western, (though culturally conscious) tourist that I was, I decided to embark upon an eco-tour to a village called Namuamua. I found that Fijian ritual was permeated with emotion and trance-inducing practices, which were aimed at establishing a sense of community and shared experience.
Namuamua (‘where two rivers meet’) is hidden deep in the mountain rainforests located on the southern coast of Fiji’s main island, Viti Levu. Though Namuamua is accessible by car, the most efficient way of travelling there is by boat. I began my journey with a large group of tourists in the town of Navua, where we boarded our wooden longboats in pairs. Our Fijian guide sat at the back of the boat, guiding the motor that propelled us down the river. With each metre we travelled, the river narrowed and the mountains grew taller. As I noticed the cascading waterfalls and complete wilderness that surrounded me, I realized that this boat trip held much importance in itself. It was making all of us acutely aware of the depth and significance of our surroundings, so that we would have a context within witch to place the ritual we were about experience.
The sevusevu, or welcoming ceremony, commenced the minute we disembarked the boat. A longstanding part of Fijian culture, the sevusevu is a ceremony designed to bring communities together through the consumption of kava (Brisonb 48). Kava, an integral part of many Fijian ceremonies, is a root that is crushed into powder and steeped in water, like tea. It acts as a muscle relaxant, and often induces a mild state of euphoria. For Fijians, kava is what Hume (21) refers to as a “correspondence”: it connects this world to another spiritual realm. Specifically, kava connects “ancestral spirits of a particular location with a human community connected to that location” (Brisona 316). Through the sevusevu and kava ceremony, villagers affirm their positions as “guardians of a sacred tradition” (Brisona 326).
Directly following the chief’s welcome speech, the kava ceremony began. Every aspect of the ceremony was ritualised, from the way the kava was mixed, to the way it was served, down to the way it was consumed. Three male Namuamuans, covered in body paint and donning woven skirts, sat around a large wooden bowl of water, into which the man sitting in the middle dipped a satchel filled with kava. After the water had become a murky brown colour, the man removed the satchel and began mixing the liquid with a bowl-shaped coconut shell. Once the kava had been prepared, a very elaborately painted man emerged to serve the kava to our chief. The rest of us were offered our own bowls once our chief had imbibed his portion.
We were instructed that, in accepting the kava, we were to clap once and say ‘bula’ (‘hello’), and then drink the whole bowl in one fell swoop. Once we had finished, we were to clap three times and say ‘matha’ (‘finished’). This was not my first taste of kava, but it was my first time drinking kava in a ceremonial setting. I slowly noticed my tongue going numb and my body beginning to relax. While I was not in an altered state, I felt as though I might be standing on the threshold of some deeper spiritual experience.
The rest of the savusavu consisted of songs and dances, both those that were performed for us and those that we were encouraged to participate in. It was during this part of the ritual that I noticed people falling into trance states. These were not shifts that caused people to appear physically different than they had before. Rather, I realized in retrospect that many people present—villagers and tourists alike—had entered into a state of flow, or a rather indescribable feeling of an unbroken stream of awareness (Csikszentmihalyi 29). I say that I realized this in retrospect, because I myself had fallen into a flow state, and therefore did not come to many of these conclusions until after the ceremony. I was dancing and chanting along with the rest of the group with very little thought about what I was doing. It was not until I felt a tear roll down my cheek as I was listening to the villagers perform their second song that I became aware of my body again, and realized what a profound impact the ceremony was having on me.
While the dancing was largely responsible for maintaining people’s sense of flow, the singing in the ceremony seemed to be the primary flow inducer. The singing held a lot more emotional and cultural significance than the dancing, and was more of a central focus of the ceremony. This observation is supported by fieldwork done by Russell (197) on the significance of singing in Fijian culture. Russell suggests that singing “fosters group identity, helps us to know ourselves and others, and alleviates alienation,” and that it also “transmits the cultural values and products of a culture” (199). Russell asked one villager to describe the relationship between singing and religion in Fiji, to which the villager said: “singing is the religion” (205). This mindset was evident in the performances I witnessed in Namuamua. The songs were felt so powerfully by those singing them that they had no choice but to chant them as loudly as they could, clapping and rocking their bodies to the rhythm of the music.
Fachner suggests that “music creates the context, which fosters the onset of trance, regulates the form and process of trance and makes it foreseeable and controllable” (21). Though there have been no musical elements proven to be trance-inducing, there are some musical features that are more common to music associated with trance states. These features include repetition and rhythmic ebb and flow (22, 37), both of which were prevalent in the singing at Namuamua. The repetition was an especially powerful device, as it stood as a metaphor for the flow that many were experiencing on a larger level.
The savusavu lasted about 45 minutes. While it is difficult to say with certainty what the other tourists were thinking when the savusavu was over, the smiles on their faces indicated that at least it had been a pleasant experience for them. For myself, attending the savusavu was invaluable. I was reminded of the deep connection I have always had with music. Getting to hear foreign music in an environment that was so different than what I was used to was enlightening and extremely powerful. Additionally, I felt liberated by allowing myself to dance and experience flow, thereby participating in the ceremony wholeheartedly. The most important lesson I learned was that participating in rituals so deeply entrenched in tradition can instantly make you feel like you are apart of a larger community that has a greater purpose.


Works Cited
Brisona, Karen J. “Constructing Identity through Ceremonial Language in Rural Fiji.”
Ethnology 40.4 (2001): 309-327 (Print).
Brisonb, Karen J. “Crafting Sociocentric Selves in Religious Discourse in Rural Fiji.”
Ethos 29.4 (2001): 453-474 (Print).
Csikszentmihalyi, Mihaly. “The Flow Experience and its Significance for Human
Psychology.” Optimal Experience: Psychological Studies of Flow in
Consciousness. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988. 15-35 (Print).
Fachner, Jörg. "Music and Altered States of Consciousness: An Overview." Music and
Altered States - Consciousness, Transcendence, Therapy and Addictions. London:
Jessica Kingsley, 2006. 15-37 (Print).
Hume, Lynne. "Entrances and Exits." Portals: Opening Doorways to Other Realities
Through the Senses. Oxford: Berg, 2007. 1-24 (Print).
Mulcock, Jane. “(Re)Discovering Our Indigenous Selves: The Nostalgic Appeal of
Native Americans and Other Generic Indigenes.” Australian Religion Studies
Review 14.1 (2001): 45-64 (Print).
Russell, Joan. “Born to Sing: Fiji’s ‘Singing Culture’ and Implications for Music
Education in Canada.” McGill Journal of Education 36.3 (2001): 197-218 (Print).

Trance for Peace

Western urban society dictates that people must be future oriented. Every move that people make in the present must be conceived of in the context of the effect it will have on things to come. Due to this forward drive, people are taught to regard things such as meeting deadlines and adhering to social norms and constructions as extremely important. However, this lifestyle of doing things in order to become something, or someone, can put people out of touch with their current existence, or the something or someone that they are right now. The abundance of stress and pressure that plagues much of Western society is evidence of the fact that living in the future does not always create a pleasant present.

Transcendent experiences, in the Western cultural context, allow people to ground themselves in the present. Attending yoga classes, participating in a religious service, and using drugs and alcohol are just some of the ways in which people break away from the demands of society and focus on the here and now. As Hume (11) suggests, some transcendent experiences transcend even the present moment, leaving the realm of time, and perhaps space, altogether. Some may feel compelled to experience being of another world when existence in Western urban society means being very much of this world. No matter what the transcendent experience, trance is an important tool used by those living in the Western world to remove themselves from their fast-paced and demanding lives.

In order to understand why obsession with the future has become the Western way of life, it is important to grasp what concepts humans have employed to help them make sense of the overwhelming, stimulus-packed world around them. One example of these concepts is put forth by Rock & Baynes (51), who, borrowing Kant’s ideology, state that humans divide the world into sections, categories, classes, and types in order to understand it. With that in mind, it makes sense that many in the Western world are prone to living in the future. The present, as fleeting, is impossible to compartmentalize. The future, however, is an ever-present promise of things to come, and can thus be broken down into sections and rendered comprehensible. It can be anticipated and planned for. Perhaps the ease with which the future lends itself to this fundamental human construct of categorization is what keeps people so caught up in it.

Breaking away from social constructs to hone in on the present moment involves appealing to a Yogic framework that Hume (12) cites: “stopping the oscillation of the mind.” This notion is key because it implies not only a disconnect from the hustle and bustle of everyday life, but a fundamental slowing down of processing. Hume (12-13) explains that trance occurs only when logical thinking is abandoned. Rituals such as drumming, chanting, and dancing are essential to trance states, Hume believes, because they are stimuli very much anchored in the present moment. By focusing in on these stimuli, people can transcend their own ordinary waking state of consciousness and enter into an altered state.

While trance is an excellent way to momentarily escape from the future-driven Western life and revel in the present or some other world, it also serves a much deeper and more meaningful purpose for many people. Trance, in its separation from the ordinary waking state, offers many a new understanding of themselves and a unique perspective on life. It is as if the self that exists in the altered state is given the opportunity to closely examine the self that exists in the ordinary waking state. In this way, trance and everyday life are not completely disconnected. Rock & Baynes (51) affirm this idea by borrowing Scholem’s theory that trance is relative to the world that we know. This is, Scholem believes, why people that experience visions tend to encounter things within those visions that are more or less a part of their cultural context—things that they can more or less make sense of.

Peters & Price-Wiliams (406) argue that the ability to transcend the ordinary waking state is one that all humans possess. However, the extent to which this transcendence takes place differs across individuals. The variations in trance experiences that people partake in are a result of societal and environmental differences. This notion of trance is helpful in understanding why issues such as drug and alcohol addiction are so prevalent in Western society. When a trance state seems to far exceed the ordinary waking state in the happiness and tranquillity it provides, it can be hard to resist. Many people find the pressures of everyday life so unbearably stressful that they do everything they can to stay disconnected for as long as possible. Drug and alcohol addiction are a result of this obsession with trance, or rather this fear of the ordinary waking state.

The current literature indicates that trance can be an efficient way for people in Western urban society to escape from their busy lives. With that said, the literature also stresses maintaining, as much as possible, some presence in this world while the trance is occurring. This presence in two worlds at once is what allows people to engage in self-reflection and enlightened understanding. Using the knowledge they have gained during trance, people can return to their ordinary waking states with a renewed sense of ease and serenity.


Works Cited

Hume, Lynne. Portals: Opening Doorways to Other Realities through the Senses. Oxford, UK: Berg, 2007. 1-24. Print.

Peters, Larry G., and Douglass Price-Williams. "Towards an Experiential Analysis of Shamanism." American Ethnologist 7.3 (1980): 397-418. Print.

Rock, Adam J., and Peter B. Baynes. "Shamanic Journeying Imagery, Constructivism and the Affect Bridge Technique." Anthropology of Consciousness 16.2 (2005): 50-71. Print.