Mata Utu

Mata Utu has been the seat of the kings of ʻUvea for centuries, and its importance has always come from that rather than from trade or size. Stone platforms and fortifications elsewhere on the island, above all the walled site of Talietumu in the south, record a long period of Tongan influence over ʻUvea before the island's own chiefly line consolidated its authority. The village on the east coast, sheltered by the lagoon and reef, was the place where that authority was exercised and where the paramount chief, the Lavelua, lived.

French Marist missionaries reached the island in 1837 and converted it within a few years, and Mata Utu became a mission centre as well as a royal one. The stone cathedral of Our Lady of the Assumption was raised beside the palace, and priests built chapels through the surrounding villages, so that church and kingship came to share the same ground. Queen Amelia signed the treaty that made ʻUvea a French protectorate, ratified by France in 1887, and a French resident was installed on the island; proposals to annex the islands outright, raised in 1913, were dropped as too costly.

The Second World War brought American forces to the island from 1942, and the roads and the airfield in the north date from that period. When Wallis and Futuna became a French overseas territory in 1961, Mata Utu was confirmed as its administrative capital, gaining the offices, hospital, secondary schools and wharf that still make it the centre of island life. The kings and the French administrator have sat side by side here ever since, an arrangement that has sometimes produced open disputes over the succession.

Life in the capital is shaped by two authorities that occupy the same few hundred metres of ground: the cathedral and the royal palace. Sunday Mass fills the church, sung in Wallisian by large choirs, and the religious calendar sets the year's rhythm, with the feast of the Assumption in August the parish's own great day. Custom, coutume, governs the rest: rank, land, marriage and the obligations between families are settled by chiefly authority rather than by the administration.

The katoaga, a customary feast and ceremonial gift exchange, is the most visible expression of that order. Mats woven from pandanus, lengths of tapa cloth, whole pigs, taro and yams are stacked and presented in front of the church or the palace, then redistributed, while dancers perform in ranks and the kava ceremony proceeds according to strict precedence. Wallisian dance, sung and drummed, has many named forms, and groups from each village rehearse for weeks before the big feast days.

Wallisian, Faka'uvea, is the language of the street and the home; French is the language of school, paperwork and the administration, and most people move between them. The community is small and closely related, and news travels quickly. Visitors are treated with courtesy and considerable curiosity, and are expected to reciprocate with modest dress, a greeting in passing and patience with the slow pace at which arrangements are made.

About a thousand people live in Mata Utu itself, out of roughly 11,000 in the whole territory, and the capital feels less like a town than a string of houses, churches and offices along a coast road. Its economy is largely public: the territorial administration, the French state services, the hospital at Sia, the schools, the church and the wharf provide most of the salaried work on the island. Around that, families keep gardens of taro, yam, banana and breadfruit, raise pigs, and fish inside the lagoon.

The day starts early, before the heat, with gardening, fishing and the school run, and slows in the middle of the day. Shops and offices open in the morning and late afternoon, and by dusk the village is quiet. Sunday is set aside almost entirely for church and family. Houses are single-storey, spread among plantations rather than packed together, and extended families live close to one another on customary land that cannot be bought or sold.

The overriding issue is departure. Far more Wallisians now live in New Caledonia and mainland France than on the island, drawn by work and study, and the territory's population has fallen steadily for two decades. That leaves an ageing community, schools with shrinking rolls and a heavy reliance on remittances and French transfers. Electricity, water and communications all reach the capital, but almost everything material arrives by ship or plane.

Everyday eating in Mata Utu combines the produce of the island's gardens and lagoon with imported staples. Taro, yam, breadfruit, cassava and banana are the base, boiled or baked; reef fish and tuna are grilled or served raw in lime and coconut cream; and rice, tinned meat and fish, and freshly baked French bread fill out the rest. Coconut cream, made from grated flesh squeezed by hand, goes into almost everything, including taro leaves slow-baked until soft.

Feast food is different in scale and method. It comes from the umu, an earth oven of hot stones covered with leaves and soil, in which whole pigs, root crops and parcels of fish and leaves cook slowly together. The pig is the prestige food and the standard unit of ceremonial giving, and a large katoaga can account for many of them. Sweet dishes lean on starch and coconut, among them puddings of baked breadfruit or papaya in coconut milk.

Kava, pounded from the root of the pepper plant and mixed with water, is drunk ceremonially rather than casually, and the order in which the cup is passed matters as much as the drink. French wine and beer are imported and available in the village shops, along with coffee and soft drinks. Eating out barely exists: a few small restaurants and snack bars near the cathedral serve French and Chinese-influenced dishes, and most meals are taken at home or as a guest.