EGUALAU KAUA! 

This website, with more than 400 photos, is a result of my early anthropological research in Wamira (1976–78 and 1981–82) and my continuing relationship with Wamiran individuals today. When I conducted research in Wamira almost 50 years ago, it was before the existence of the internet, and when Wamirans living in the village had little access to cameras. My camera then became a means of visually recording the daily life of the community. Although people were usually eager to have their pictures taken, there weren't many ways to share the photos with them. The best I could do -- and what I did -- was to put together a slide show in the village towards the end of my stay. To do that I borrowed a large bed sheet and a generator from Dogura, the nearby mission station, and set things up one evening after the sun had set. The make-shift outdoor theater was filled with excited Wamirans, both old and young. For many it was the first time to see an image of themselves. 

 

Over the years I've come to understand how much these early images mean to Wamirans. ​They serve as a crucial record of Wamira and the villagers' lives long ago. More importantly, they also provide a visual memory of Wamiran individuals, for both those living today who were young children, and those who were elders at the time and are no longer alive. 

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I first set out for Papua New Guinea in 1976, just after PNG had gained independence from Australia. Amazingly, I had visa number one! I wanted to learn more about certain foods -- one example being taro -- and the many ways some people in PNG use taro to communicate in important ways. It becomes a vehicle with which to express their connection to the land, their history and social relationships, and their fears and desires. I learned that Wamira, on the southeast coast would be one such village where taro took on special meaning. At the time, there were about 1,200 Wamirans in PNG, about a third of whom lived in the village. 

 

After arriving in PNG, I spent several days in the capital city of Port Moresby, where I was introduced to Felecia Dobunaba, then a student at the University of Papua New Guinea, and whose family was from Wamira. Felecia graciously wrote a letter for me to take to her mother in the village. When I arrived with the letter, her mother, Alice, was incredibly welcoming and generous. She insisted I stay with her. "How will you survive on your own?" she asked. "You'll be like a little bird turning its head this way and that to try and understand what's going on. Stay with me and I'll take care of you."

 

I ended up staying with Alice the entire time, first in her home with her brother, Aidan, and their mother, Sybil. Later on, I lived in a house of my own, which the villagers built right next to Alice's.​​

 

When putting this website together, my goal was to reach Wamirans, both those who helped me every day as I did my research, as well as their children and grandchildren, many who never knew me, and some who track down my contact information and get in touch. I always welcome these unexpected emails.

I dedicate this site in memory of Alice and her family, who took loving care of me every day, and to Felecia, with whom I continue to be in touch, as well as to her children and grandchildren.

 

I never would have become the successful anthropologist and university professor I have been without the people of Wamira. Throughout my stay of almost three years, they helped me, always with patience and good humor. They taught me their language and shared their cultural wisdom, took me to their taro gardens and showed me how to fish, never seeming to tire of my endless questions. Most importantly, they shared their food. Early in my stay Alice said, “Write to your parents in America and tell them there is plenty of food here. We will take care of you. You won't be hungry.”​