A mob in a village near Sumbawanga, in southwestern Tanzania, attacked and killed a suspected witch last week. Numerous earlier reports of sorcery and traditional healing have surfaced in recent years in Fipa territory, but the murders of suspected witches have not been as common.

Maria Jorah, also known as Salamba, was a 63 year old resident of the village of Mafulala, in the Sumbawanga area. Several recent unexplained deaths had been attributed to her alleged witchcraft. Students at two schools in her neighborhood attributed the mysterious death of a form four pupil, Gabriel Masika, to her evil work. Infants had also died recently, and mysteriously, in her village. She had to be the perpetrator, the people thought.

On Friday, a neighbor of Ms. Jorah’s, Titus Francisco, claimed that he had witnessed the woman trying to bewitch him. He said he saw her place a black cloth on his doorstep, and that she put another mysterious cloth in his toilet. He grabbed the elderly woman and forced her to pick up the doorstep cloth. Unwrapping it, he saw some black hair, which he assumed was human. He yelled for help.

A crowd quickly gathered, including a large number of students from the two nearby schools. One eyewitness described the scene as horrifying and bizarre. The mob used clubs and machetes to batter the woman to death. They then burned her body and her house.

The Rukwa Regional Police Commander, Isuto Mantage, explained the incident to reporters, saying that Francisco had complained of Jorah’s witchcraft for some time. Other villagers had tried to set her house on fire a year ago. The policeman indicated that Francisco and two other people, Anna Kalimanzila and Gradis Mlenga, have been arrested on suspicion of killing the old lady.

While suspicions of witchcraft are common in many African traditional societies—see, for instance, Paul Stoller’s fascinating book In Sorcery’s Shadow, about the Songhay society of Niger—the implications of this belief among the contemporary Fipa are not clear.

Two agents of the U.S. Food and Drug Administration, two deputy federal marshals, and a Pennsylvania State trooper drove into an Amish farmyard one morning last week at 5:00 AM. The Lancaster County farmer, Dan Allgyer of Kinzers, was already out preparing to milk his cows when the cars arrived.

He challenged them and was told that they were there to inspect his milk operation. The next day Mr. Allgyer received a notice from Kirk Sooter, district director of the U.S.Department of Health and Human Services office in Philadelphia, warning him that the sale of raw, un-pasteurized milk for interstate commerce is strictly prohibited. If he doesn’t correct the situation, the results could be an injunction or seizure. “Failure to make prompt corrections could result in regulatory action without further notice,” the letter warned.

According to the news story about the incident, the agents had also visited the farm in February, warning Mr. Allgyer about the sale of raw milk. The issue is being championed by the National Independent Consumers and Farmers Association, which seeks to improve direct relationships between farmers and consumers and promote the consumption of locally grown foods.

A spokesperson for the Association indicated that Mr. Allgyer’s work exemplifies the ideals that her group is trying to promote, of direct farm sales to consumers. Mr. Allgyer gave details to the association, which is disseminating the story. Allgyer evidently challenged the officers about the extremely early hour of the inspection and that their search warrant specified that it was valid at “reasonable times during ordinary business hours.” One of the agents defended their raid, saying that 5:00 AM was a normal operating time for a farm.

Allgyer’s family was still asleep when the agents drove in, but he soon aroused them. The agents, Allgyer reported, occupied themselves by “rooting around, like a couple of pigs, in the freezer and cooler area.” He complained that the visit by the agents delayed their breakfast, the morning milking, and the family’s daily devotions. His children asked his wife if their daddy was going to go to jail.

On one level, the story is about a conflict between a government agency enforcing regulations that, it believes, have been designed to protect the people and advocates of farmers who want to sell to local consumers. On a different level, the story is also about a traditional Amish farmer wanting to live a quiet life with his family and hoping to have good relations with his neighbors, but running afoul of regulatory agents who have no compunction about hassling him.

The New York Times last Thursday carried a feature about people who have sought solitude from the stresses of modern life by settling in remote places. A sidebar to the article contained brief portrayals of “Five Destinations for Solitude Seekers.” Those places include the Northern Territory of Australia, Greenland, Pitcairn Island, Svalbard, and Tristan da Cunha.

While some of those locations may have harsher climates, there is little doubt that Tristan is more isolated from human habitations than any other inhabited place on earth. It is about 1,700 miles west of Cape Town, the nearest community, in the middle of the South Atlantic Ocean.

The article points out that while visitors are welcome there, the Island Council has to approve any applications from outsiders who want to live on Tristan. There are no spare dwellings, according to the Island Administrator, David Morley, and very few jobs. “It would not be a straightforward matter for someone to come here to settle,” he told the Times.

In October 2006, the Indian army celebrated a long tradition of militarism in Ladakh by reopening the Zorawar Fort, near Leh, with a sight and sound show for tourists—and, presumably, Ladakhis proud of having been conquered in the 1830s. General Zorawar Singh led an army, called the Dogras, from the city of Jammu over the Himalayas in 1834 and into Ladakh. He quickly defeated the hastily raised Ladakhi army and subjected the defenseless kingdom to military rule. After a couple years of rebellions, the Ladakhis gave up and accepted the fact that they were the subjects of Jammu, then later of Jammu and Kashmir, and since 1947, of India.

The fort that the general erected fell into disrepair, but the Indian army restored it to its former glory and reopened it in 2006 with lots of fanfare, as a tribute to the important role of military forces in the history of Ladakh. The myth makers of Zorawar Singh and his military prowess had to ignore the inconvenient facts—that in 1841 he foolishly decided to attack Tibet, but he found the much higher, and colder, conditions in the Chang Tang section of that country to be overwhelming. He suffered a catastrophic defeat at the hands of a Tibetan army and the glorious general was killed on the battlefield.

But the Indian army holds onto its myths. It is now commemorating Zorawar Singh day every April 13th, in Jammu. The Indian press celebrates the general with a passion. “It was General Zorawar Singh … who with his sword drew the borders in the Himalayas and included Ladakh, Skardu and Baltistan as integral parts of India,” a news article gushed last week. The statement ignores the fact that Baltistan is the name for the northwestern part of Ladakh which is now part of Pakistan.

“The borders of India, which extend beyond the mighty Himalayas, are the imprint of gallantry of the Dogra Army led by their charismatic general, Zorawar Singh.” Units of the Indian army organized the celebration this year as a memorial to the selfless sacrifices and bravery of the general. The leaders of various military organizations laid wreathes at a monument to him. Representatives of an ex-servicemen’s league, organizations of veterans, and civic leaders spoke at the ceremonies.

The grand event “was attended by a large number of army personnel and veterans who flocked from far flung areas to pay homage to this brave son of the country.” The peacefulness that prevails in much of Ladakh, as described by Pirie (2007), is ignored by these purveyors of glorious military history.

Back in February, it seemed as if India would definitely stop planning the Athirappilly Dam on the Chalakudy River, which would save the nearby forest ecosystem and a Kadar village. A series of articles in Indian newspapers last week describe the continuing unrest in Kerala State about the decision to stop the dam construction by the national government.

One article described a request made by the Kerala Electricity Officers Federation to the national government—the “Centre” as it is called in India—to stop blocking the dam construction. S. Vijayan, the General Secretary of the Federation, indicated that the major issue for the Centre to worry about should be protecting the forests, a much better solution to global climate change than the economic globalization that the government is now pursuing, he argued.

He decried the construction of power projects that were based on carbon-based fuels—far more harmful to the environment than hydropower, he said. He alleged that the preliminary construction that had taken place at the dam site increased the presence of water in the river, and, in the words of the news story, “rejuvenated nature in the area.” He contended that some studies have shown that the project would not harm the biodiversity of the area. The news report did not provide the reasons why he made these claims.

Later in the week, The Hindu, a major Indian newspaper, reported that the Kerala State Centre, part of the Institution of Engineers (India), was planning a one-day seminar in Thiruvananthapuram on Saturday, April 10, to explore the issues related to the proposed power dam. The program, “Proposed Athirappilly Hydro-electric Project—Myths and Realities,” would address the usefulness of the project, though it would also acknowledge the potential environmental consequences of it.

Mr. S. Radhakrishnan, Honorary Secretary of the Kerala State Centre, which organized the seminar, said that, whatever the environmental objections might be, cancellation of the dam project would harm the overall development of the state. The seminar was organized so that papers for and against the development could be presented.

A press report about the seminar published on Sunday reviewed the objections of C. G. Madhusoodanan, a hydrologist and environmentalist from the River Research Centre in Thrissur. He described the basic planning process for the proposed dam as deeply flawed, even in its most basic design elements. For instance, he stated that the proposal describes the river basin as 1704 sq. km., whereas, he said, it is only 1470 sq. km. The calculation of runoff in the drainage basin is quite incorrect.

Using his best engineering language, he evidently blasted away at the designers. “The basic measurements such as dam length, surge shaft diameters and powerhouse sizes [keep] changing with each of the detailed project reports (DPR). Some components like the energy dissipator and river training works are yet to be designed and quantified even after four DPRs,” he said.

The assistant executive engineer for the Kerala State Electricity Board, R. Ramesh, disagreed. He said that nuclear power is not an alternative for a crowded state like theirs, so there is really no alternative to building the new dam on the Chalakudy River. Furthermore, fossil fuels will likely be gone by 2030, wind energy is unpredictable, and solar energy is too expensive as yet. He further argued that neighboring states in India have over 100 dams each, and Kerala has just 33. The news story did not indicate if he mentioned that the neighboring states of Tamil Nadu and Karnataka are much larger than Kerala.

The news story pointed out that a major point for contention between the engineers and the environmentalists at the meeting was over the maintenance of the Athirappilly Falls, a major tourist draw for south central Kerala, and just downstream from the proposed project. The engineers—the hopeful dam builders—contend that the project will allow enough water to flow in the river so that the waterfalls will continue to operate. Environmentalists differ. In the end, there will be no river and no electricity, one maintained.

It is not clear from the news stories if any of the engineers or environmentalists expressed concern for the indigenous people, residents of the Kadar village, who would also be affected by the proposed dam.

The US State Department has issued a human rights report that criticizes the government of Botswana for its discriminatory actions against the G/wi and G//ana people. According to an article last week in the Botswana Gazette, the United States document follows just weeks after a UN official released a preliminary report condemning the country for its treatment of the indigenous, minority groups.

The US report decries the fact that Botswana is ignoring a ruling by its own High Court in 2006, which recognized that the San people have a right guaranteed in the nation’s constitution to live in the Central Kalahari Game Reserve. According to the latest document, the government is preventing the people from returning to their homes and denying them access to water. At the same time, it has allowed a wilderness lodge operator in the CKGR to provide a swimming pool for its guests, with water from a drilled borehole.

Another article last week discussed the fact that the company which operates the Kalahari Plains lodge, Wilderness Safaris, was being listed on the Botswana and the Johannesburg Stock Exchanges on Thursday, April 8th. According to that article, tourists visiting the lodge not only have the privileges of using a swimming pool and a bar, they also can take a guided “Bushman walk.”

The website of Wilderness Safaris describes the facilities and the incredible wildlife viewing available at the camp. It mentions the possible interactions with the nearby San peoples: “Various Bushmen clans have thrived in this area for centuries, and many of Kalahari Plains Camp’s staff hail from this ancient people. The camp offers an interpretive “Bushman Walk” with a couple of our staff members, where guests gain life-changing insights into the unique culture of this fascinating people.”

Stephen Corry, Director of Survival International, an NGO based in London that is championing the rights of the San people, had a predictably negative take on the tourist facility in the desert. “The reserve is largely traditional Bushman land; tourists shouldn’t be going there at all until the Bushmen are treated fairly,” he said.

Last week, the Christian Science Monitor published a brief story about the fading musical art form of the Nubians known as the zar. The correspondent for the Monitor, Laura Kasinov, witnessed a zar performance at a small arts studio in Cairo and was impressed.

She indicated that the music originates in Upper Egypt, on the border with Sudan, but she unfortunately failed to identify the zar as an indigenous art form of the Nubian people. In any case, she was clearly “entranced by the energy and rhythms of a centuries-old musical tradition…” The audience loved the big, dangling gold nose rings and ear rings of Madiha, the star performer.

Ms. Kasinov writes that the music was used traditionally as a healing ritual, and was the only music in Egypt in which women performed the major roles. The performances served to heal women, give them freedom from their stresses, and release them from anxieties imposed by the social strictures of their society. The music, she suggests, sounds African, but she writes that it was threatened by religious conservatives in Egypt who felt the zar tradition was un-Islamic.

Ahmed al-Maghraby, who owns a public stage where zar is performed, told the reporter that the Egyptian people initially opposed the public performances—the media had portrayed zar as an exorcism ritual in which the practitioners commune with devils. The contemporary performances in Cairo have helped dispel these images, he feels. “As soon as Egyptians come to see zar, they are like, ‘Oh my God, it’s beautiful,’” he said. He is dedicated to preserving traditional Egyptian music.

Madiha said that her mother was a zar performer too and that she learned her art from her. But despite the “very ancient history” of the musical form, she indicates that no one now is learning to perform it.

John G. Kennedy, an anthropologist, wrote a fascinating analysis of the zar ceremony in 1967, which he updated for a book in 1978. It is worth examining them for more information. In a head note in the 1978 account, he describes zar as not at all an ancient art form. Instead, it appears to have originated out of the social stresses in Nubian society caused by the construction of the first Aswan dam, which was completed in 1902. He describes zar as a ceremony rather than a musical art form.

He argues that the Nubians hold their zar ceremonies as a way of coping with evil spirits that they believe cause their illnesses. In that way, the conservative Islamic officials mentioned in the news account were correct. The Nubians employ zar healing only as a last resort, after having tried other forms of charms, exorcisms, native healers, herbs, physical manipulations, and perhaps even western doctors. (This description will use the present verb tense, to conform with Kennedy’s research articles, though if the news report is correct and the zar is rapidly disappearing, perhaps the past tense should soon be used.)

While a person who is angry, aggressive, or violent will more likely be afflicted by the demons that cause illnesses, the Nubians blame the spirits and not the individuals for their erratic behaviors. The zar ceremony itself is normally held for seven consecutive days—again, this is Kennedy’s observation from the 1960s—though it may be restricted in some circumstances. Men do not normally attend ceremonies for women and vice versa.

The ceremonies are held in a large room, with the windows closed to raise the temperature. That provokes the demons to jump from the body. Participants use a lot of incense as part of the ceremony. Music and dancing are important aspects of the performance, since they have significant effects on the spirits. If the sheikh who performs the ceremony addresses a song to a particular spirit which is closely associated with someone in the room, that individual will begin to shake, dance, and come to the central area of the room, finally to fall into trembling exhaustion.

Often the relatives of the individual who is ill must give temporary or permanent gifts to the spirit to tempt it to leave the prostrate person. A special song brings the person back to consciousness. The performing sheikh often goes into possession states himself (or herself), during which he may have voluble debates with the spirits or perform with them. The ceremonies also frequently include fortune telling and the prescription of cures. They conclude with animal sacrifices and a final feast.

Although many of the participants in the zar ceremonies suffer from neuroses and anxieties, in their own eyes they attend as participants rather than patients. The Nubians recognize that depressions are the most frequently treated illnesses. Normally, people with really severe disorders are excluded, but sometimes even the severely impaired will attend a zar and make a remarkable recovery. Factors which prompt healing during the ceremony include the strong faith of the participants, the support from the group, and the intensity of the experience.

Symbolism also plays a major role in stimulating healing. The patient is dressed joyfully, as if in a wedding and smeared with dyes. The music and dancing have joyous associations, while incense and perfumes help symbolize purification. People consume potions, wear white colored clothing, and perform ritual cleansing. They may also wear other colors such as green and gold, which represent protection from harm as well as wealth and goodness. Numbers such as seven—the length of the zar—have symbolic meanings as well. All of these symbols increase the intensity of commitment to the healing process.

The context of the ceremony is basically non-religious, and the patient acts out the purification rituals in a manner which might be considered morally undesirable and perhaps anti-social outside the ceremonial setting. However, Kennedy argues, the Nubians believe the evil demons that cause illnesses are attracted to people who have guilt feelings about their inability to always fulfill their strongly peaceful, nonviolent, non-aggressive values. Thus, performances of the zar ceremonies are (or perhaps were) an essential element in preserving their culture of peacefulness. If the news story is accurate, zar is being transformed from an essential social service in Nubian society into an exotic musical art performed in Cairo.

A Chewong community in Malaysia has a new building designed to display village crafts for tourists, according to a news story last week. Kampung Kuala Gandah, near Temerloh, has used a poorly made building as a store for many years, but the new facility, costing RM200,000 (US$62,000) will significantly boost the ability of the villagers to market their handicrafts.

The new building has been built with funding provided by the Malaysian resort company Genting Malaysia Berhad. It will help about 200 Chewong sell the jewelry, baskets, pouches, boxes, and other craft products that they make from local plant materials.

A member of the State Tourism Executive Council told the people at the dedication of the new building that visitors to the Kuala Gandah Elephant Sanctuary nearby could now visit the village as well and see the crafts. They could also watch cultural shows that the Chewong perform.

Bak Raja Tek, the 72 year old headman of the village, said that the new building would allow villagers to put on cultural shows to entertain their visitors, as well as display their wares. “People can now come to the complex to watch the dancers performing Sewang, our traditional dance. The villagers will also have the opportunity to mingle with visitors,” he said. He really appreciates the construction of the new facility.

Sabariah Kupang seconded what the headman said. A weaver of mengkuang baskets and mats, Sabariah felt that the smooth new floor in the building will be much more comfortable for the performers than the rough one in the old building. She hoped that more tourists would come into the village now.

The annual spring festival—Toonik Tyme—in Iqaluit, the capital of Nunavut, will be held next week, from April 7 through 12, at various locations around the city. Started in 1965, the spring festival features many traditional Inuit arts, crafts, and activities, but it now also includes events that would be familiar to anyone in Canada. A news story in Nunatsiaq News last Friday gives a lot of background.

The festival had a modest program in 1965: throat singing, dancing, Inuit games, and a community feast, plus activities for kids. A tradition that started with the first festival and has continued through the years has been the designation of an Honorary Toonik, a person who serves as the symbolic chair of the festival.

Gordon Rennie, who was the Honorary Toonik in 1970, described the first person to hold that honor, in 1965, an Inuk from Cape Dorset named Atchealak. He was a clerk and handyman for the Hudson Bay Company. Atchealak “dressed up in caribou furs and came over the hill by dog team… It was really quite dramatic and exciting with all the Inuit dancing and music,” said Mr. Rennie.

Honorary Tooniks have included the former prime minister of Canada, John Diefenbaker, England’s Prince Charles, plus other dignitaries such as former governor-generals, territorial commissioners, mayors, and so on. In recent years, individuals chosen for the award have tended to be people who have shown outstanding community spirit through their service and volunteer work.

According to the festival website, the name “Toonik Tyme” comes from the word Toonik, a member of the Tuniit society which preceded the Inuit in the Eastern Canadian Arctic and nearby Greenland. The Tuniit were famed, according to Inuit stories, as outstanding hunters with incredible speed and strength. They hunted their game up close using only spears and lances. Hunters wore long fur parkas while waiting for seals to emerge from their holes. They would spread out their parkas like tents and keep seal oil lamps burning inside to stay warm.

The festival celebrates the return of spring after a long, Arctic winter and offers a time to get together with both indoor and outdoor activities. The website indicates that it allows the people to display their pride in their culture and to show off their way of life and traditions to visitors. It encourages the community to come together and cherish their society.

The website, as well as the newspaper article, describes the activities that will take place. In addition to opening ceremonies, which include the naming of the Honorary Toonik, the calendar for Wednesday includes a fashion show—listed in the program as a “Traditional Clothing Competition”—plus bingo for elders, activities for kids, and drag races for men and women on snowmobiles on the sea ice. Thursday, April 8, will feature an ice sculpture contest, a hot stew and bannock dinner, a Northern Band Night, elders outdoor games, a kids sliding contest, and more.

Friday, according to the program, will start off with ice golf on Toonik Lake, activities for elders and kids, a tea and bannock contest, igloo building, plus other games, contests, and entertainment. Similar programming continues through the weekend. Many of the events are free, but some have admission charges.

On Sunday night, the Lifetime Movie Channel broadcast the film “Amish Grace,” and, to judge by news stories and blog comments by those who were able to see it, it was controversial. When publicity about the movie surfaced weeks ago, the LMC defended its decision to produce a fictionalized account of the 2006 tragedy—a deranged killer murdered five girls in an Amish school in rural Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, then took his own life. LMC admitted that some of the aspects of the story were fictionalized. The point of the movie was to portray the supposed difficulties some of the Amish had in forgiving the killer and his family.

The three authors of the book Amish Grace, on which the movie was supposedly based, quickly distanced themselves from the production of the film. They did not cooperate with the producers or provide them with any information. They realized that it would have violated the trust of the Amish people if they had allowed their insights to be manipulated by the producers. The local Amish community resented the process of fictionalizing, for commercial exploitation, a very real tragedy that they experienced a little over three years ago.

The movie was shown anyway, and by Monday some of the comments on the Web—though not all—were running against it. Many people were aware of the controversy and condemned the channel for intruding into a sensitive subject. A sampling of comments from blogs and news stories suggests at least some of the aspects of the criticism—and praise.

The Toledo Blade ran a story ahead of the showing, on Saturday, which aired some of the controversy. The paper quoted the executive producer of the film, Larry A. Thompson, who blamed the media for taking earlier comments of the authors out of context. He said that he had talked with a representative of the publisher of the book on Thursday last week and had been told that the authors had only seen the brief trailer, not the movie itself.

“I have the utmost respect for these three theological scholars and they were very kind and upfront with us. The media want to dig deeper and find controversy when there really is no controversy,” Mr. Thompson said. He argued that the news media that were covering the story may prompt more people to watch it. “God works in mysterious ways,” he concluded.

Some of the people commenting on blog postings on Sunday night and Monday were enthusiastic about what they had seen. For instance, one blog post contained the comment, “I just got done watching it myself it was very good.” A commenter on another blog post wrote, “no you cannot forgive that [the murders], but they [the Amish] live in a strange community, the women anyway has [sic] no voice there, it is all about the men, the oldest men have the rules…..what a terrible lifestyle, I would get out of there as fast as I could, and many does …”

At least some of the reviews and comments, however, have been much more critical. One review compares the story as told by the movie to a sledgehammer—it shuns nuance “the way the Amish avoid using electricity.” The reviewer approves, at least in part, the sensitivity of the filming—viewers didn’t hear the gunshots nor did they see the tragedy unfold. But, typical Hollywood, “the Amish don’t just attend the funeral of the shooter but march over a hilltop like an Amish army…”

The film appeared, to that reviewer, as if it were made on the cheap. The beards on the Amish men looked fake, and the location did not appear to be Lancaster County—probably because it was filmed in California. The conclusion: it was “a paint-by-numbers cable movie whose telecast may well prove the wisdom of an electricity-free way of life.”

Another review was nearly as cranky. It quoted local opinions about the film. One Amish lady reportedly said, “we’re not happy. It’s not something we want to be a part of.” A midwife who is quite familiar with the people affected by the tragedy said that those families don’t like the idea of the producer making the movie. “It’s all anyone is talking about,” she said.

The authors of the book, Donald B. Kraybill, Steven M. Nolt, and David Weaver-Zercher, weighed in with an op-ed piece in the Washington Post last Thursday. They had only seen the trailer at that point, but they identified a number of key issues. They clarified the reality of Amish forgiveness. The families of the murdered children forgave the killer and his family immediately. Many visited his widow, his parents, and his parents-in-law within hours of the tragedy. None of them confronted the widow with a message of hatred, as the movie suggests. They didn’t struggle with feelings of forgiveness.

Kraybill, Nolt, and Weaver-Zercher argue that the film incorrectly portrayed the Amish as struggling to do the right thing, to overcome their anger and vengeful feelings, and to eventually see that forgiveness is the best course of action. The producer, the film stars, and the rest of us might well react to such a horrible event in that fashion. But the Amish did not. The reason, the authors argue, is that their entire community celebrates forgiveness. It is an essential fiber in the fabric of their peaceful society. Their forgiveness may have been difficult—the Amish families are of course quite human, and they were devastated by the murders of their daughters—but the fact that their whole society emphasizes forgiveness makes it a standard that is easier for individuals to accept and live by.

Kraybill and his co-authors include, in a recent paperback edition of their book, an interview with Terrie Roberts, the mother of the killer. She was so moved by the way the Amish people reached out to her and her husband immediately after the shooting that she has continued to visit with them.

The real story, the authors argue, would be just as touching as the movie version. It would be a film about a community that values forgiveness so much that scapegoating the family of the killer would be inconceivable.