3 Kitchens - Part 2

 Paiga Hearths

The round hut is still the characteristic accommodation in Paiga and its cooking space certainly fits Jones’ description of ‘the conversational circle of the familiar group around the hearth, the focal point of food preparation at the centre of the social action’.

It’s hard to miss the fireplace; indeed, the unwary newcomer entering your first round hut, bending as you usually will have to do under the kunai grass roofing extending over the doorway to provide protection from the rain, passing from the often bright light outside into the darkness of the hut’s interior where the fire is the usually the only illumination, is very likely to stumble right into the fireplace, stubbing toes on the rocks that form the hearth circle and perhaps knocking the shin on the improvised grill laid across the fire for supporting pots, yams, perhaps a cob of corn, all much to the hilarity of those gathered inside.

There will be a cleared space around the hearth, wide enough to allow the cook to sit beside the fire and prepare the greens or meat for the pot but narrow enough to allow the gathered family and guests to reach over comfortably from time to time to turn over the grilling vegetables from where they round the fire on the raised living/sleeping platform that takes up most of the floor space in the hut, legs dangling into the cleared hearth space and, yes, making for yet another hazard for the wary or the late comer who has to stumble past others to get to the spot furthest from the fire or most directly in the lint of smoke (about which more below).
Wood for the fire is usually stored at the back of the platform near the fire, and the fire is fed from the front facing the door – another hazard, stumbling into the stoker.. Seasonings – inevitably salt and frequently a bought bottled sauce, pots, any crockery, cutlery, cooking utensils will also usually be on the platform near the wood, within easy reach of the seated cook. There is not running water to the hut; water is collected from a stream a few minutes walk away and stored in plastic containers.

Round huts have no chimneys or other openings to release smoke; they are usually windowless and the woven pitpit grass mat-like walls are surprisingly impermeable. The entrance to the hut is no exit, not when as is common these days there is a door that will usually be kept closed to keep out the chill of the night. In fact, this door adds further to the discomfort of all as every time it opens, which is extraordinarily frequently over the course of an evening, the rush of air blows the smoke that had been drifting slowly upwards directly into the faces of those unfortunate enough to be sitting opposite. What initially looks wilfully antagonistic to the good health of all does have benefits. Look up from your perch around the hearth and you will notice that the kunai grass ceiling is blackened and shiny with soot that acts as an excellent sealant against rain working its way through and dripping unpleasantly onto the household. It also helps to dry corn that hangs in bunches from rafters, but I haven’t ever seen it being used to smoke meat.

There is no table. Yams are taken in hand off the grill, or fingered out from the ashes. Rice and greens are heaped into the two or three plates there are with men and children getting the first share, then young boys, then women and girls.

This hearth is everything Jones describes – a conversation pit where news and gossip are exchanged (the precursor of that quintessentially ‘60s domestic space which often also had a fireplace as a focus albeit not one on which any food was prepared), the place of food preparation and consumption, and the site where family and community matters are discussed and activities planned. They are also where singing happens; songs created by family or other community members that celebrate everyday life – recollections of courting (failed and successful), mothers thoughts of their children as storms approach, songs of longing for family who’ve moved to the towns - learned aurally line by line and sung in glorious group voice.