The Heritage of History |13 April 2018
This year, the International Council on Monuments and Sites (ICOMOS)has declared the theme for International Heritage Day as ‘Heritage and Generation’. On behalf of The National Heritage Research Section, TONY MATHIOT explains:
In an old Seychelles Colonial Report of 1960, there is a photograph showing a girl at a table working a sewing machine. Behind her, standing in a row, five other girls dressed in white blouses and blue pinafores are doing needle work (for the benefit of the camera, of course), with apparently, their sewing instructress, standing by their side. An evidently concerned English gentleman (probably a visiting representative of some Colonial Trust Fund) is bending down to convey his compliments to the girl for her obvious proficiency with the machine. It’s a charming photograph of a nostalgic bygone era, when a sewing machine was delightfully useful to have. If those girls in the photograph are still around, they would be in their late 70s - and if by any chance any among them are likely to indulge in ‘pastime sewing’ they are likely to use their beloved ‘Singer’ sewing machine that they’ve owned since their younger days.
Once upon a time, those sewing machines were common in Seychellois households. There were hundreds of them. Adam Moosa and Meghjee imported them. Our great grandmothers earned their livelihoods from them. They were the tools of their trade. So many hundreds of metres of “toile Indienne, toile ecrue, toile a drap, zephyr, matapolam and kaki must have rolled out of their heavy clinking Singer machines. It was invented by an American, Isaac Merritt Singer (1811-1875) in 1851. It had an eye-pointed needle which carried a loop of tread through the cloth. A second thread carried in a shuttle that moved to and fro on the other side of the cloth, was passed through the loop, thus locking it. Some Singer models could be worked by a treadle with the foot.
We now live in the age of the designer clothes and those Singer sewing machines have become obsolete. They have been consigned to sheds and rubbish heaps…and museums. Indeed, that sewing machine is now an object of marvel and like all collector’s items, it would fetch three items its original price in an auction sale. Maybe more…..
It is intrinsic to the logic of history that is not merely the sewing machine per se as a valuable object of heritage that we appreciate.
It is the evocation of that particular time in our history when the sewing machine was in use, beginning, let’s assume, sometime during the late 19th century until the late 20th century. One hundred years. A Singer sewing machine could have been used by three generations of one family. Just like a farming tool, a pair of flat irons or a piece of furniture. A century that encompasses historical milestones including Seychelles becoming a colony (1903), the experience of two World Wars (1914-1918 & 1939-1945) with so many other events in between – and that sewing machine was clinking away during the day and in the evening by candle light or coconut oil lamps, churning out clothes, garments and uniforms. Amazing, isn’t it? That something mundane as a sewing machine could evoke so much history.
If we come to the sensible agreement that heritage is the inevitable outcome of a historical process, it is a foregone conclusion that heritage is ipsi facto continuity - and each generation of a nation comes into possession of the richness of its past: tangible and intangible heritage. Considering that we are presently in the 248th year of our history (1770-2018) - from which particular period of the past does our heritage come from? But, is there in fact a particular period? Not at all. This is because our heritage encompasses every feature and aspect of our national patrimony: Our National Archives dates from the year of the first settlement, our knowledge of medicinal plants dates from late 18th century when slaves trusted the forest to cure their ailments, our creole recipes must have been invented during that same time by those same slaves among whom some came from India and they cooked their curry with coconut milk flavoured with cinnamon leaves, and our oldest buildings date from the late 19th century. Today, in as much as we live certain aspects of our heritage in the course of our daily lives because for the time being, we have no other alternative, other aspects have gradually disappeared into obscurity and can only be known as research information in publications by the National Heritage Institute or in PHD dissertations by students of social-anthropology.
Each generation is accompanied by the appearance of innovative changes introduced by the modern inventions and improved technology that disposes of tradition. Therefore, it is axiomatic that the heritage of each generation has different values and importance. Heritage that is a way of life for one generation may become nearly a subject of cultural entertainment for another generation. For example, our children do not play the games that their grandparents played once upon a time. However, an occasional visit to the Botanical Gardens is a moment of delightful enjoyment because natural heritage never ‘goes out of fashion’. In fact, every single one of our natural heritage site is an economic asset of our tourism industry. They are of such supreme importance that legislation has been enacted for their preservation. It is legitimate to assume that some fifty years from now, posterity will have the same needs for these particular natural heritage sites that we have today.
It can be discussed and argued ad nauseumthat heritage creates an awareness in the consciousness of generation, of the cultural achievements of preceding generations, that have somehow played a role in shaping the evolution of history. Such an argument could also prompt us to ask ourselves; What heritage did the generation of the early 1870s have? A century after the first settlers arrived in Seychelles, was there a sense of national patrimony or cultural heritage? Which was the first generation to have a heritage? Mind boggling interesting, isn’t it??
Today, we are the generation which has the custody of 248 years of cumulative heritage, intangible and tangible. It is the quiddity of our cultural identity - no matter as to what extent we are osmotically vulnerable to extraneous influences. Our heritage in all its multifarious elements constitutes our distinctive Seychellois characteristics. One particular way in which we can appreciate the scope of our heritage in its historical context is by looking at a map of our archipelago: our streets and our rivers immortalise the memory of those whose honour, integrity and good deeds still haunt the pages of our history. Our mountains, hills and beaches may harbour a chronological record of events. Our districts, cemeteries and buildings are fraught with stories. Our chapels, churches and cathedrals….yes, it’s awesome!
So you see, the map of our islands can be construed as a landscape of heritage. It is the stark illustration of our 248-year history. From it, we can extract a measure of enlightenment that could shape the manner in which we appreciate our heritage.
Today, unlike a century age, we have legislation that deals with heritage: The Town and Country Planning Act (1972), National Monuments Act (1980) and the Seychelles Heritage Foundation act (2006). They remind and alert us about the value of heritage.
