The robust, semi-nude women in paintings by the 19th-century French Impressionist Paul Gaugin have practically become a trademark of Tahiti in the eyes of the world for the past hundred years. But even at the time of his painting, besides the native Polynesians and a handful of Westerners, the island was already home to a number of Chinese.

Nature-loving Gaugin is said to have detested the presence of Chinese on the island because, Tahitians affirm, "the Chinese are good at doing business"--and an IOU from Gaugin to a Chinese is still preserved in the Gaugin Museum on the island.

Setting aside the question of whether Gaugin really thought that way or not, the prevalence of that explanation is not hard to understand if you look at the situation today. The Chinese make up less than ten percent of the population but control more than 70 percent of the businesses. You mostly see copper-skinned Polynesians in flowery shirts on the streets, but as soon as you step into a store, a restaurant or a hotel, you are generally greeted by the smiling face of a tawny-skinned, soft-featured Chinese.

In fact, their prosperity is only quite recent. In the early days they underwent all kinds of hardships, like Chinese immigrants the world over.

Tahiti is more than 9,000 kilometers northeast of New Zealand. It is the main island among the 130-some Society Islands of French Polynesia. The capital, Papeete, is located there, and so Tahiti often serves as a synonym for the whole archipelago.

Tahiti was discovered by the civilized world 200 years ago. At the time it was an "island paradise" of Polynesians who were ruled by a king and lived a simple, primitive and self-sufficient life. It became a French protectorate in 1880. Today there are 130,000 people on the island of Tahiti itself, most of them native Tahitians and around 10,000 each of persons of Chinese, French, mixed Chinese-Tahitian, and mixed French-Tahitian ancestry. The temporary French population is a little larger still.

Even though Chinese set foot on Tahiti as far back as 1865, it was not until the administration of Georges Pompidou in 1973 that Chinese were really permitted to obtain French citizenship. During the intervening 108 years, Chinese had been born there and buried there for four or five generations but were still considered "foreigners."

"They were issued a residency permit with a number on it by the Tahitian government as soon as they turned twenty, and that represented their identity," says Frederic Siu, who owns one of the three biggest trading companies on the island. When the residency tax was suddenly increased to US$300 a person in 1949, many Chinese people went to jail because they couldn't pay it. It only after an R.O.C. consulate general named Ch'en Hou-ju, whose French was excellent, managed to persuade the governor to lower the tax for poor families to US$50 that they avoided going to jail.

Because of their status as foreigners, "it was hard getting things done," Frederic Siu, now a grandfather, says. They needed a special license to do business, they had to pay taxes twice as high as others did in lucrative lines like running a hotel, and they couldn't own land or buildings or even buy a boat.

"In those days, there were only two ways a Chinese could buy real estate," says Michel Law, a former member of the territorial assembly. "Marry a Tahitian girl and buy the property in her name, or find a French person to help out!"

The French government once loosened up and permitted Chinese born on Tahiti between 1908 and 1913 to become French citizens, which created many "international families" as a result. "My mother became French, but my uncle wasn't 'born in time' and always remained Chinese," Michel Law recalls.

In 1964 the French government finally made French citizenship available to Chinese on the island, but there were many restrictions. They had to use an originally existing French name, for example; they couldn't simply transliterate their Chinese names.

A "reprieve" in 1973 granted them all French citizenship and permitted them to transliterate their Chinese names. The result is that members of the same family often have differently spelled last names on their ID cards.

At the same time as the Chinese gradually became French and were treated more fairly, Tahiti itself was passing through a period of transition.

The strategic importance of the island had become apparent with the start of the Cold War, and in 1963 the French set up a military base on the island and began nuclear testing in the neighboring waters. Thousands of French soldiers swarmed in. They constructed buildings and harbors and spent wads of cash. Tahiti got its first airport, tourists soon followed, and the whole economy of the island began to pick up.

In the process of moving from underdevelopment to prosperity, the simple, unspoilt Polynesians were not as good at business as the Chinese -- the French government helped them set up a consumer coop, but it had to shut down, while the Chinese were spread over all the islands, forming a broad commercial network that even the French themselves couldn't compete with. In this round of economic sparring, the Chinese easily held the upper hand.

As soon as the Chinese began playing a major role in business, they actively turned their energy and resources to giving their children a better education.

Ever since the first Chinese went to study in France in 1931, large numbers of Chinese children have gone overseas to study, making Chinese and Chinese of mixed ancestry the most well-educated group on the island.

Young people who come back with diplomas are respected in the Chinese community and can find good jobs. Since taxes are high in France and the weather is completely different, almost all of them return to Tahiti as soon as they finish their studies.

Influenced by their families, most of the younger generation have studied business courses and have proven themselves of great assistance in their family's enterprises on their return. Many of them have also become doctors, lawyers and teachers, and some have entered government service. "Young people understand that they should have a place in the government. At the least, it would be a big help to Chinese in doing business," says Chang Fu-ch'ang.

In fact, the older generation of Chinese originally had no intention of settling down in Tahiti, much less becoming French citizens and receiving a French education. After World War Ⅱ, many of them returned with their families to their homeland or sent their children back for study. Tahiti used to have four Chinese elementary schools. "San Min Elementary School had more than 600 students at one time," says Emile Lee, an alumnus of the school. Almost all the Chinese sent their children to one or another of the schools.

When the mainland fell to the Communists, many people broke off their trips back and only then began thinking about settling on Tahiti permanently. But before the 1960s they couldn't become French citizens, they couldn't buy real estate, and they paid higher taxes than other people, while they were limited on where they could go with a Chinese passport. They had no choice. So while they waited for the policy of the French government to change, they gradually abandoned their original nationality and traditional lifestyles. . . .

At the same time, the assimilation policies vigorously carried out by the French also forced the Chinese to change their ways of life.

At first, the local government stipulated that one hour a day of French had to be taught in Chinese schools. They soon changed it to two hours, then upped it to three, and in 1964 they simply forbade Chinese schools from accepting students under the age of 14. "It was equivalent to asking us to shut down!" Chen Juhng-chang says.

"Later even our invoices and accounts had to be in French," businessman Emile Lee says.

The Chinese on Tahiti are mainly Hakkas from Kwangtung Province. Besides speaking Hakkanese, the first generation learned a little Tahitian because they wanted to do business with the natives. The second and third generations used Hakkanese at home and among themselves and learned some French and Tahitian. A few of them remember a little Mandarin from having gone to a Chinese school, but with the schools closed, almost no one under forty can read Chinese and those under thirty can't even speak Hakkanese.

Another effect of the schools' closing was that even though most Chinese still try to marry among themselves, the situation of parents forbidding marriage to an outsider has almost ceased to exist.

And so all kinds of French sons-in-law and Polynesian daughters-in-law turn up at Chinese get-togethers. And when an eighty-year-old grandmother has a birthday, it's not unusual for her to be kissed by brown-haired, blue-eyed granddaughters.

Mavea Tung, a graduate of anthropology at National Taiwan University and currently doing research in Tahiti on the Chinese there, analyzes it this way: French assimilation policy has pressured the Chinese toward Western culture at the same time as they have been cut off from their mother culture since the fall of the mainland. That is why the Chinese community on Tahiti is different from Chinese communities in many other areas.

In Southeast Asia, for example, she says, Chinese have continued to come and go, and the umbilical cord with China has remained unbroken. The old Chinese method of keeping accounts are still used in some places, and the older generation still hopes to return to their hometowns someday.

To seek a better life, the Chinese on Tahiti abandoned their original way of life and identified with the local society. Today they have French passports, just like native Tahitians and French, and the Tahitian government proclaims that they are one of the three major ethnic groups on the island, equal in status with the rest.

Politically, however, only 8,000-some Chinese currently have the right to vote, and given factional infighting and the vagaries of vote distribution, Chinese control just two of the more than 30 seats in the territorial assembly. Economic strength combined with political weakness put them in a rather shaky position.

"Five or ten years ago, it was very hard for a Chinese to find a job in the government," says Roland Louis, a member of l'Association Wen Fa, a group of returned overseas students who are trying to promote Chinese culture on the island. And even though there are several Chinese work in the government today, they still encounter a certain amount of discrimination.

The anxiety and sense of insecurity felt by the Chinese has not vanished with their improved economic conditions. That is due to Tahiti's unique, complex historical and geographical background.

During the 1960s the French government allocated large subsidies to the island so that they could continue nuclear testing and still the increasingly louder cries for independence.

Except for black pearls and a few handicraft items, Tahiti doesn't produce much that can earn foreign exchange. Practically everything you see is imported. And with no income tax, the local government has to rely on import duties to balance the books. Prices are so high that tourists are sometimes taken aback.

In addition, the Tahitians have also picked up some Western habits recently. Three or four years ago the dockworkers went on strike demanding a wage increase. The government didn't agree. The workers smashed up stores and burned houses, a number of which belonged to Chinese. After that incident the union was disbanded and the reverberations died down, but concerns over the economy, political stability and social order have clouded the views of the future for quite a few Chinese.

Although most of them don't think that Tahiti will become independent any time soon, those Chinese who have built a good life for themselves through sacrifice and hard work cannot help worrying about the economic outlook, without aid, in case it does. A rise of ethnic consciousness among the native Polynesians has also made the resource-controlling Chinese a conspicuous target.

Some people are trying to ameliorate that concern. L'Association Wen Fa has tried to draw together relations between Chinese and the native Tahitians. During the past two years, for instance, they have invited Polynesians to take part in the festivities at Chinese New Year. And a Chinese member of the assembly is trying to narrow the gap in the distribution of wealth by fighting for jobs and welfare benefits for impoverished natives.

"But even if you help them, they don't feel like they have to be grateful. It's their land, after all," says 27-year-old Elisa Siu. Some people hope that more and more mixed marriages may change things, but "who can say?"

Adding up all the concerns, most Chinese are thinking of ways to develop overseas. "There aren't very many opportunities on Tahiti itself," says Giau Leon, the president of the Chinese Philanthropic Association. The population is small, and the market is nearly saturated after thirty years of development. If you want to get ahead, you have to look overseas.

"Young people often ask themselves about their futures," he says. Some of them don't want to carry on the family business from their fathers. "But if you study physics or chemistry, where are you going to work when you come back?" The need for professionals like doctors and lawyers is limited, too.

As their economic situation has improved, many parents have bought cars or houses for their children studying overseas. According to their own estimates, nearly one fifth of all Tahitian Chinese now have businesses or residences in France, Australia, New Zealand or the United States.

Having passed from a typical transient psychology to hopes of settling down permanently, and now again to thoughts of moving away, Tahitian Chinese will probably waver between the mindsets of a naturalized native and a transient resident for many years to come. Their story over the past hundred years, of crossing the seas to seek a better life, continues to play itself out. Fortunately, the latest generation of Tahitian Chinese are in a much better position than their forebears were to make a rational choice and to weather the storm.

[Picture Caption]

The French and Chinese, the two most important nonnative ethnic groups on Tahiti, have brought great changes to that distant island paradise.

Reminiscent of a figure in Gaugin's paintings? Actually, she's half Chinese.

Wu Yun-chang (right) and family pose for a group portrait. The photographs on the wall show five generations. At left is Wu's grandfather, who never went to Tahiti, and at right are his parents, who immigrated there from Kwangtung. He himself was born and raised on the island.

(Left) Thirty years ago Chinese couldn't buy land. Now some of them have farms so large they have to hire Polynesians to get by with the work.

After living on the island for more than a century, the local Chinese have a Polynesian flavor. On the right is a Chinese, at left is a Polynesian of mixed Chinese ancestry.

(Left) Earlier generations of Chinese are all buried in the Chinese cemetery.

Chinese play a major role in the economy. At left is a general store operated by a Chinese; at right is Frederic Siu, owner of the Sin Tung HingTrading Co.

A street scene in Papeete, the capital, with another branch of the Sin Tung Hing Co..

When an elderly Chinese woman has a birthday, she is surrounded by grandchildren of mixed French and Polynesian ancestry.

Reminiscent of a figure in Gaugin's paintings? Actually, she's half Chinese.

（Left） Thirty years ago Chinese couldn't buy land. Now some of them have farms so large they have to hire Polynesians to get by with the work.

Wu Yun-chang （right） and family pose for a group portrait. The photographs on the wall show five generations. At left is Wu's grandfather, who never went to Tahiti, and at right are his parents, who immigrated there from Kwangtung. He himself was born and raised on the island.

（Left） Earlier generations of Chinese are all buried in the Chinese cemetery.