"Where are you from?" vs. "What do you do?"

These questions are often exchanged in small talk, but in the US and Fiji, their priorities vary, as Peace Corps Volunteer Nichole Lange pointed out to me in Suva. In the US, we usually ask the "What do you do" question (or its university variation, "what's your major?") early in making someone’s acquaintance, but in Fiji, the conversation starter is "Where are you from?"

This difference in questions reflects something I teach but seldomly have experienced first-hand, which is the difference between collectivistic and individualistic cultures (Hui & Triandis, 1986). In the US and other individualistic cultures, we emphasize the individual. Achievement, independence, liberty, privacy, expression, self-esteem, performance: all of these things are stressed on an individual level. Thus, “what do you do?” is an appropriate way to find out about an individual person, with the assumption that what one does gives us a glimpse into their personality.

In Fiji and other collectivistic cultures, however, the group is the focus. Whether it’s the family, clan, village, island, or country, the whole is more important than its parts. The question “where are you from?” reflects this orientation, as one’s heritage, clan, and self are inextricably intertwined. In Kioa, we heard about the many young people who have gone to university or moved away, but still return to take over their homestead when their family asks. In Suva or Nadi, when workers heard we had come from Kioa, they were quick to proudly announce their own village roots. Tim Doak, our Peace Corps guide, when asked the question by Fijians, often replied “Au lako mai Kioa,” reflecting his identification and affection for his adopted home. Similarly, he spoke of his Fijian brothers, sisters, and parents across the islands as if related by blood.  

More examples of collectivism, especially in Kioa, abound. In discussing how Kioans have accomplished various things from installing electricity to preparing for feasts, the answers always revolved around “the community...” Tim obtained raw materials through a grant for their seawall, but the community worked together to build it in three days, as opposed to the seven Tim had expected. When the village hosts feasts, food is provided by the community in the form of plates contributed by each family. Material possessions tend to be thought of as communal, rather than individual, and are frequently borrowed without defined return dates. If one needs something back, one can find it in the community. (It is an island, after all.)

Feast at the Fatele

   

The village nearly doubles in size every Christmas season, when children come home from the mainland or abroad and stay for weeks in the community. On a micro-level, a clan or family acts as a community too. Families construct their houses themselves, as opposed to hiring contractors. Family members sleep in the same structure as a community, seldomly separated by walls or rooms.

The village council seems to make all the decisions by consensus, as opposed to a mayor or other sort of individual leader, and in cases of minor crimes or violations, the council, as a community, determines an individual’s punishment. The council collects, manages, and distributes income from tourist visits based on the needs of the community.

Even in the ceremonial Fatele dance, there was no one performer highlighted. There were dancers, singers, and drummers, but no solos or showcased performances. The performers were a community.  

Certainly this collective style of life has its drawbacks. Privacy, for example, is nonexistent, and individual freedoms were limited. I also didn’t notice the variety in personality or dress that one would expect in a similar-sized American community. But, collectivism isn’t the sole cause of these differences, as factors like religious conservativism or low socioeconomic status should be considered as well.

It should be noted, too, that other dimensions come into play besides collectivism-individualism. A society’s “verticality” refers to how strongly the society views its members as different from one another, as opposed to equal (Singelis, Triandis, Bhawuk, & Gelfand, 1995). From my perspective, Kioa would be more in the horizontal classification, with a strong emphasis on equality and sharing. Although, when gender comes into play (which could be a whole other post), the assumed male superiority and differentiation of roles evident in Kioa points in the vertical direction. Another cultural dimension is that of “face,” in which a society places a strong emphasis on a social image of harmony and cooperation (Leung & Cohen, 2011). Disagreement and controversy are avoided in cultures of face. Fiji fits this description, as Tim and others shared with us the concept of the “Fijian Yes,” which is a vocalized “yes” but one in which the speaker has no intention of actually doing what is asked of them. But, to maintain face, they put on the front of cooperation.

To conclude, I hope to use my experiences in Fiji, and especially Kioa, to teach the individualism-collectivism spectrum with more vivid examples, at a minimum, and ideally, to help me and and others deepen our understanding that there is more to a person than “what do you do?” 

--Scott King

References

Hui, C. H., & Triandis, H. C. (1986). Individualism-collectivism: A study of cross-cultural researchers. Journal of Cross-Cultural Psychology, 17, 225-248. doi:10.1177/0022002186017002006

Leung, Angela K.-Y., & Cohen, D. (2011). Within- and between-culture variation: Individual differences and the cultural logics of honor, face, and dignity cultures. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 100, 507-526.

Singelis, T. M., Triandis, H. C., Bhawuk, D. P. S., & Gelfand, M. J. (1995). Horizontal and vertical dimensions of individualism and collectivism: A theoretical and measurement refinement. Cross-Cultural Research, 29, 240-275. doi:10.1177/106939719502900302