Tulou, Tulou, Tulou (a sign of respect, to the audience and their respective ancestors they bring with them)

Ni Sa Bula Vinaka (a formal greeting from Fiji). I bring with me my ancestors, their mana (power/sacred energy), and warm Pacific greetings. I would like to first acknowledge the lands that I am standing on, that has nourished me, and in which I get to call home—the land of the Kānaka Maoli (indigenous Hawaiian people), Hawai‘i. 

My name is Ulamila Monica Caginavanua. Like many women within my lineage, whose blood runs through my veins, and whose strength and prayers called me into existence, I am many things.

I am first and foremost, the youngest and only daughter of my parents, whose names I proudly speak in this space to call in their mana—Serupepeli Namua Bue Caginavanua and Miliana Koroiveibau Caginavanua. From them, I was gifted the birthright of warriors and that of chiefs. The blessings from ties to the Vanua (land) of Kadavu, Ekita, Yawe, Yaro, Malolo Island, Nasilai, Rewa and Qeleni, Taveuni, make me a proud daughter of the Fiji Islands, a proud iTaukei (Indigenous Fijian) and also a proud daughter of Oceania. My existence was the answer to their prayers, as we all are to our ancestors who have gone before us, and those yet to come.

 I am a first year PhD student under the Political Science department with a focus and interest in Indigenous Politics. I have been fortunate enough to have been given this opportunity to begin my PhD journey under the guidance of the East-West Center and entrusted with foundation scholarships, the Amy Agbayani Fellowships and Trudy and Al Wong Ohana Scholarship.

 When the East-West Center staff reached out to me to take on this task of keynote student speaker, I thought long and hard about the lessons and experiences that I have had in the four years that I have lived, worked, studied, laughed, cried, loved, and said goodbye to strangers that became friends, and friends that became family that have passed through these spaces and whose memories are the markers of time.

 Those are the two key things that I thought of: Time and Space.

 In my capacity as the Planning and Speaker intern for this semester’s The Exchange, I chose the concept of time and space from the perspective of Oceania to share and also learn with my student community. Time and Space, in Eastern Oceanic language, this is known as Tă and Vā. But why is this important? How does this connect and relate to you all, you may ask?

Allow me to speak to my experiences at the East-West Center using Tā (Time) and Vā (Space).

Tā: Time

My ancestors believed in the cyclical nature of time and the importance of the space to allow relationships to form and grow, continuously nourished by time. That is what East-West Center is, a space that allows the formation of relationships over a short period of time, that go on to last a lifetime. I firmly believe that my being chosen as a United States South Pacific Scholarship recipient in Fall of 2020 and coming to Hawai‘i in the height of the pandemic in March of 2021 was nothing short of ancestral intervention.

 I say this because although Fiji, more specifically, Suva City, was the only world I knew, I made that choice to leave because I knew that I was being given a mission. I left home, not for myself, but for my family, my community, and my clan. I left home to show my cousins, nieces, nephews, most especially, my Uncles and Aunties, that one of their own could make it in higher education. Like many East-West Center students who chose to leave home, to make a new home here in Hawai‘i and create their own community, we are breaking generational curses, forging paths for the realization of the dreams of our own families; the weight of our communities is what we bear, held by time.

Tā

Vā: Space

Come, those from the East, gather those from the West. Let us come together and form this community, East-West Center. In my four years of being a part of this community, three were spent under the guidance and mentorship of the Pacific Islands Development Program (PIDP). I learnt from some of the greatest minds of the Pacific, drank kava with intellectuals and made life-long friends with those far beyond the shores of Fiji.

 For it is within this space that I learnt what it meant to be unknowingly part of the in-between. Where was the Pacific? My friend and colleague, Dr. Bruce Ka'imi Watson once told me that for far too long, the Pacific was the metaphorical dash/hyphen in the name East-West. But my presence today, and the continuous presence of fellow Pacific students, those who had once called these grounds their home, living and learning among their colleagues, showcase that the strength of the Center is within the understanding of this in-between. It is understanding and paying homage to the grounds that we stand on and the Oceanic genealogies that enable the connections of our Akua (gods), Kupuna (ancestors), and Moʻolelo (stories).

Yes, come, those from the East, gather those from the West, know that the continuous creation and re-creation of this space is through mutual respect, understanding, care and above all, love—for the East-West Center is only just manmade structures without its community.

Vā

Tā: Time

From a Masters Student to now, the beginnings of my PhD journey, I offer this reflection in that time in-between. Time, marked by memories: Memories, of 2 am convenings at the kitchen tables, spilt tea, laughter, of longing for homes far away and finding belonging in this new home, in these new (but old?) buildings. Home was in each other; Care, to be able to sit in a circle around the tanoa (bowl) of kava, singing, feeling, being, healing-each other on a journey that we have all chosen, that is not for the faint hearted- of seeing one another for who we really are and who we hope to be, of being able to fall knowing that comfort is there to catch you when you do; of a family from all walks of life, quite unusual, but is the family we get to keep for these few short moments; Moments, an acknowledgement of a time come and gone that was lived and cherished; of the lows that taught lessons of strength and needed vulnerability, of love.

Tā

Vā: Space

Descendants; one day, these experiences will be stories we will tell our children and their children; because when we look back at these memories captured and framed, of this space, of friendship, of sharing, it tells a story of us, remembered by the grounds that we sat on, the walls that heard our late-night karaoke sessions, and the tables that convened 2 am conversations about life; perhaps a dream, when shared.

Vā: Space

Tā: Time

In Fijian, when you join the words Vā and Tā, it forms the word Vata, which means “together.” Through this collective time and space we all share, our dreams collide and come together. In this time and space, you and I and all those in this room were destined to be. I believe that it is nothing short of ancestral intervention. Together, it is us that create and continuously re-create this space. Together, it is us that make up the East-West Center.

Mahalo nui loa and thank you very much to you all for your continued support.