"All I wanna do
Make a meal of you
We are what we eat
You're my kind of meat
Got a hunger for your love...
Hot pot, cook it up, I'm never gonna stop
It's all I'm thinkin' of..." I Eat Cannibals- Total Coelo
This story is an adaptation of one, which is posted on a carving at the Robert Louis Stevenson museum in Vailima...it is the story of the cannibalism of King Maleatoa- and of how cannibalism in Samoa ended (sort-of)…
King Malietoa Uilamatutu lived at Tualagi, near Malie (not far from Magaea...home of another famous family). He was son of the first Malietoa- his father bravely and fiercely shrugged off Tongan tyranny around 1300 ad. The title Malietoa is taken from a phrase in the speech of the departing Tongan’s…"Mālie toa, mālie tau," meaning "great warriors, well fought." The title Malietoa has continued for over 700 years (the last holder of the title dying in just 2007).
The subject of our story Malietoa Uilamatutu (aka Faiga) was a reasonable man, although he had something of a soft spot for a meaty treat. In the absence of a reasonable butchery, and 800 years prior to the placement of Golden Arches in Saleufi…he managed both his subjects and his hankering, by occasionally (well…daily) ordering the sacrifice of a man from this village or that, to be served at his table.
Important folk hung about the land in front of the home of the Malietoa- the grass court of the king- a reception committee of orators, chiefs and other grass court specialists (possible a former Wimbledon champion or two- clearly they were important enough people that they got to hang about waiting on sunny afternoons, even though there was probably washing to be done at home).
When a sacrifice was ordered, the reception committee would greet the unfortunate victim (although the term “unfortunate victim” may well have been banned from use in preference for ”special lunchtime guest”) The welcome might have included speeches, special thanks and ceremony…but, it certainly included a short sharp rap to the back of the head when one least expected it, after which the “special lunchtime guest” was usually reported to have “ducked off to help in the kitchen”.
The ‘guest sau umu’ would be wrapped in a seated position, with his feet beneath him (it’s poor manners to point your feet…) and slowly roasted. Then the grass court specialists- brave warriors, noblemen, and other blokes skyving off washing duties- would all partake, with the heart and the nape of the neck reserved for the Malietoa.
One day, when Malietoa was getting older (and slowing down a little- possibly a result of his red meat diet…) two men arrived on the beach from Fafine in Savaii. On the same night the kings son, Polualeuligana, was sleeping on the beach. The men, dressed in finery had been invited for “The Kings Day”- a euphemism meaning that although they’d been invited to dinner as special guests, they probably wouldn’t be around to try the fruit and Pavlova.
Polualeuligana, heard the men talking and lamenting their sacrificial fate. He rared up from the beach in the dawn light, like a man shaped lamington, white sand and bronze skin, and presented a cunning plan for their escape…(cunning as a fox shaped guilt roast).
Make a meal of you
We are what we eat
You're my kind of meat
Got a hunger for your love...
Hot pot, cook it up, I'm never gonna stop
It's all I'm thinkin' of..." I Eat Cannibals- Total Coelo
This story is an adaptation of one, which is posted on a carving at the Robert Louis Stevenson museum in Vailima...it is the story of the cannibalism of King Maleatoa- and of how cannibalism in Samoa ended (sort-of)…
King Malietoa Uilamatutu lived at Tualagi, near Malie (not far from Magaea...home of another famous family). He was son of the first Malietoa- his father bravely and fiercely shrugged off Tongan tyranny around 1300 ad. The title Malietoa is taken from a phrase in the speech of the departing Tongan’s…"Mālie toa, mālie tau," meaning "great warriors, well fought." The title Malietoa has continued for over 700 years (the last holder of the title dying in just 2007).
The subject of our story Malietoa Uilamatutu (aka Faiga) was a reasonable man, although he had something of a soft spot for a meaty treat. In the absence of a reasonable butchery, and 800 years prior to the placement of Golden Arches in Saleufi…he managed both his subjects and his hankering, by occasionally (well…daily) ordering the sacrifice of a man from this village or that, to be served at his table.
Important folk hung about the land in front of the home of the Malietoa- the grass court of the king- a reception committee of orators, chiefs and other grass court specialists (possible a former Wimbledon champion or two- clearly they were important enough people that they got to hang about waiting on sunny afternoons, even though there was probably washing to be done at home).
When a sacrifice was ordered, the reception committee would greet the unfortunate victim (although the term “unfortunate victim” may well have been banned from use in preference for ”special lunchtime guest”) The welcome might have included speeches, special thanks and ceremony…but, it certainly included a short sharp rap to the back of the head when one least expected it, after which the “special lunchtime guest” was usually reported to have “ducked off to help in the kitchen”.
The ‘guest sau umu’ would be wrapped in a seated position, with his feet beneath him (it’s poor manners to point your feet…) and slowly roasted. Then the grass court specialists- brave warriors, noblemen, and other blokes skyving off washing duties- would all partake, with the heart and the nape of the neck reserved for the Malietoa.
One day, when Malietoa was getting older (and slowing down a little- possibly a result of his red meat diet…) two men arrived on the beach from Fafine in Savaii. On the same night the kings son, Polualeuligana, was sleeping on the beach. The men, dressed in finery had been invited for “The Kings Day”- a euphemism meaning that although they’d been invited to dinner as special guests, they probably wouldn’t be around to try the fruit and Pavlova.
Polualeuligana, heard the men talking and lamenting their sacrificial fate. He rared up from the beach in the dawn light, like a man shaped lamington, white sand and bronze skin, and presented a cunning plan for their escape…(cunning as a fox shaped guilt roast).
“Wrap me in this banana leaf” cried Polualeuligana. “Plait me up in the leaf like a fish for the umu” he persisted.
“Righto” said the blokes from Fafine, who bereft of a better plan would happily would have dressed him up as Priscilla Queen of the Beach, if they thought it might keep them around long enough to see the fruit platter.
“Does my butt look big in this?” queried Polualeuligana, before being assured that it did- which is considered a good thing in Samoa (and green can be such a difficult colour).
“Now put me on a pole”. After a moment or two of confusion, in which the men approached a couple of nearby sailors from Warsaw…Polualeuligana was secured firmly in leaf, and on a long wooden pole and promptly marched off to surprise his father.
When the fish de jour was presented to the Maietoa, he licked his lips and imagined the feast to come. But as the kuka began to unplait the “fish of the chief”- probably to pop in a bit of garlic and an onion- the feast began to act a little more luvely-jubbley than anticipated…
“It is I, father” cried Polualeuligana, flexing his buttocks against his firm leafy binding, and beginning to enjoy the attention a little.
“How can you be so cruel” began Malietoa… before continuing in parental fashion. “I -I’m not angry…just disappointed”
And so, the Malietoa decreed that if he could not cook his son this day, then no more should his subjects have to fear a Sunday roast at his place, and he ended canabalism in Samoa…mostly.
Sometimes naughty children are still roasted and eaten here- but that’s just for their own good. (You still have to set an example occasionally…)
“Righto” said the blokes from Fafine, who bereft of a better plan would happily would have dressed him up as Priscilla Queen of the Beach, if they thought it might keep them around long enough to see the fruit platter.
“Does my butt look big in this?” queried Polualeuligana, before being assured that it did- which is considered a good thing in Samoa (and green can be such a difficult colour).
“Now put me on a pole”. After a moment or two of confusion, in which the men approached a couple of nearby sailors from Warsaw…Polualeuligana was secured firmly in leaf, and on a long wooden pole and promptly marched off to surprise his father.
When the fish de jour was presented to the Maietoa, he licked his lips and imagined the feast to come. But as the kuka began to unplait the “fish of the chief”- probably to pop in a bit of garlic and an onion- the feast began to act a little more luvely-jubbley than anticipated…
“It is I, father” cried Polualeuligana, flexing his buttocks against his firm leafy binding, and beginning to enjoy the attention a little.
“How can you be so cruel” began Malietoa… before continuing in parental fashion. “I -I’m not angry…just disappointed”
And so, the Malietoa decreed that if he could not cook his son this day, then no more should his subjects have to fear a Sunday roast at his place, and he ended canabalism in Samoa…mostly.
Sometimes naughty children are still roasted and eaten here- but that’s just for their own good. (You still have to set an example occasionally…)
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