Peaceful Societies

Survival International claimed last week that De Beers is resuming prospecting in the Central Kalahari Game Reserve (CKGR). According to the British human rights organization, the planned exploration for diamonds in the vicinity of the San community of Metsiamenong threatens the G/wi and the other San people who live there, as well as the fragile ecology of the reserve.

Metsiamenong map For several years, SI campaigned against De Beers since many observers felt that Botswana had exiled the G/wi from their ancestral lands in order to make sure that diamond royalties would not have to be shared with them. The San people had to be moved out of the way. SI organized protests against the diamond chain, convinced a couple of super models to break their contracts with the company, and fostered boycotts of glittering receptions in New York and London that focused on the international trade in conflict diamonds handled by De Beers.

Since the San people won their suit against the government in the highest court of Botswana in December 2006, the G/wi have been permitted to return to their homes in the CKGR, but their access to water has been denied and they have been refused the right to hunt. Meanwhile, De Beers sold its mining rights to Gem Diamonds in 2007, so SI ceased its campaign against the international diamond conglomerate.

Steven Corry, Director of SI, said last week, “we are dismayed that De Beers feels that it can now return to the reserve whilst the situation with the Bushmen is still unresolved. Presumably it hoped no one would notice. Hundreds of Bushmen still languish in relocation camps, unable to return home because the government won’t let them hunt or use their water borehole.”

Corry added that SI would mount as strong a campaign as it could to persuade people to boycott De Beers for resuming diamond prospecting in the CKGR. He feels that the corporation should pressure the government to honor the human rights of the San people and allow them to live decently in their homes in the reserve.

The diamond company denies the SI allegations. “De Beers ceased all operations in the Central Kalahari Game Reserve in 2003. We do, however, retain a number of prospecting licenses in the reserve that are due to expire in the near future,” said Lynette Gould, a spokesperson for De Beers. She said that the company had not resumed prospecting in the CKGR.

She emphasized that the company was consulting with the relevant stakeholders, “to get a better understanding of what these issues are in order to help us determine whether or not to proceed with any low impact exploratory work in these license areas.” She suggested that the company is not inclined to engage in any further efforts in the reserve, but it wanted to explore all its options.

Ms. Gould added, “far from sneaking in and ‘hoping that no-one might notice,’ as Survival International suggests, De Beers has been engaged in a transparent consultation process that reflects our commitment to take the views of local communities seriously.” To an outside observer, it appears as if the company is taking SI seriously—perhaps as a potential threat to their profits.

In another development this week relating to the G/wi, the Mo Ibrahim prize for good governance in Africa was awarded to former Botswana President Festus Mogai, who retired in March this year. The prize of US$5 million, announced on Monday, recognized the stability and prosperity he helped foster in Botswana during his term in office. It did not mention his repression of the San peoples of the Kalahari, whom he exiled from their homes in order to make sure that the diamond royalties would only benefit the majority peoples of the country.

Survival International criticized the Mo Ibrahim Foundation for ignoring Mogae’s repression of the San people and giving the award to him anyway.

Sedna, a good looking young woman, lived quietly with her father on the shore of the northern ocean, but the local youths who tried to win her heart could not penetrate her pride. One spring, fulmar, a pelagic bird, courted her. He described the wonderful land where he lived and convinced her that she should accompany him over the sea to his country.

When they got there, she quickly realized that fulmar had been lying. The home he promised her was, in fact, cold and foul rather than warm and soft, and the food consisted of miserable fish. The wretched girl had been deceived by fulmar, and she desperately wanted her father to come and rescue her.

The Sedna myth, according to Kimberley C. Patton, is told in Inuit communities across northern Alaska, Canada, and Greenland. It has many variations, but the most frequently told narrative continues in a dark vein. A year after Sedna flew off with fulmar, her father finally came to visit her and discovered the outrage that had been committed. He killed fulmar, took his daughter, and they fled in his boat toward home. When the other fulmars returned, they cried over the loss of their comrade, as they do to this day, and they vowed revenge. They pursued the boat with the fugitives.

They caught up with the people and stirred up a storm with huge waves that threatened to capsize the boat. Terrified, the father decided to save himself by throwing his daughter overboard to appease the fulmars. As she clung for dear life to the edge of the boat, the father chopped off the ends of her fingers with a knife. The fingers fell into the sea and became whales. She continued to hold on, so he cut off more of her fingers, which swam off as seals. When the father cut off the last bits of her fingers, they swam off as bearded seals.

The fulmars thought they had killed Sedna, so the storm subsided and she finally climbed into the boat with her father. When they got home, she took revenge on him by calling the dogs while he slept to chew off his feet and hands. When he awoke, he cursed them all, and the father, the daughter, and dogs all went to Adlivun, the land at the bottom of the sea where Sedna reigns.

The Sedna legend is particularly important to coastal Inuit, who perform rituals to cure polluting events that may have offended her. Inuit who hunt sea mammals must be extremely careful to not offend the animals they hunt, for they are all the offspring of Sedna. She must be placated whenever hunting successes wane.

The whales, walruses, and seals watch over human moral and ritual cleanliness, and react when they perceive violations. When such lapses in morality occur, the animals may withhold themselves from contact with humans, so the people have nothing to hunt. The people begin to starve. The solution used by many Inuit is for an angakoq, a shaman, to hold a trance. During his or her trance, the shaman travels over the sea and down to the realm of Sedna. He finds her in the middle of a large plain on the seafloor in her stone house, a building without a roof so she can observe the doings of the people above.

The shaman has to break down a stone wall in front of the house, overcome the guard dog, and get past the father. Sedna’s long black hair is filthy, encrusted with the evil deeds of the Inuit, her mouth and eyes filled with dirt. Much as Sedna originally violated taboos of her society against marrying an animal, she is once again a victim of human violations of ritual pollutions. And since she has no fingers, she is unable to clean herself. She cannot function as any other Inuit person would and care for herself or provide her own food.

The angakoq turns Sedna toward the light and cleans her hair. While working, the shaman presses the inua, or sea goddess, for information about the norms that have been violated. The shaman finally has the long hair of the goddess completely clean and braided, and has learned which ritual standards have to be restored. The angakoq, in many versions, also cleans out the filth in Sedna’s house. As the angakog appeases Sedna’s anger, she releases the mammals so they can swim freely in the seas near the humans. The crisis from the lack of food is nearly over. Promising the goddess that the people will correct their behavior, the shaman returns to the human community.

Patton, in a 2007 book about the sea and evil, devotes chapter 5 to an explanation of how Sedna symbolizes pollution, purification, and the ethical behavior of coastal dwellers. While the Inuit have accepted modern ways in many respects, the author argues that their cultures still accept the Sedna beliefs, if their artistic production is any gauge. Contemporary Inuit sculptures often depict her as half human and half animal, or with grotesque bodily distortions, or awful hair.

The Sedna myth is powerful. It emphasizes purity, both of the marine environment and of human society. The inua is dirty precisely because of human violations of moral values, and people suffer immediate consequences from their lax attention to the rules of behavior, just as she herself suffered from violating the prohibition against marrying animals.

Sedna is often capricious and ambiguous, but that is the way she was treated. The ocean environment can be like that. When all the rules are properly followed, the sea animals willingly yield themselves to be taken by hunters for food, but when they aren’t, the shaman has to intervene and restore the proper order. Ms. Patton provides an effective analysis of a fascinating legend.

Patton, Kimberley C. 2007. “‘The Great Woman Down There;’ Sedna and Ritual Pollution in Inuit Seascapes,” chapter 5 in her book The Sea Can Wash Away All Evils: Modern Marine Pollution and the Ancient Cathartic Ocean, p.79-96. New York: Columbia University Press

A strange series of contradictory Indian news stories over the past couple weeks have carried confusing reports about the possible causes of a tragic set of deaths in a Birhor village. It is difficult to sort out the truth, but the essence of the issue—that really poor country people don’t matter and can be used as pawns for political purposes—can be inferred from the reporting.

The story first surfaced on October 4. Eight Birhor had died of food poisoning, and five others had been sickened, from eating wild roots in the village of Hindiakala, in Chatra District, Jharkhand State. The Deputy Commissioner for the district, Abu Bakar Siddique, said on the 4th, “all of them had consumed some wild roots in the forests near Pratapur on Thursday night [i.e., Oct. 2].” Eight Birhor dying from eating wild forest foods, which they have been consuming for millennia—their name “Birhor” means “men of the forest”—immediately seemed suspicious. The article in The Hindu indicated that the families of the victims had been paid Rs 10,000 (U.S. $206) as compensation, but it did not say why.

Last week the story became more alarming, and confusing. On Monday, October 6, another source reported that the Supreme Court had appointed a board of commissioners to investigate the situation. The report by the board presented a contradictory interpretation of the events in the Birhor village. It indicated that the Birhor had died due to starvation, not due to poisoning from eating wild foods. The advisor to the commissioner appointed by the Supreme Court said that it was a case of “criminal negligence and a police complaint will be lodged against the officials.”

The investigation found that the villagers did not possess any ration cards, which are supposed to be provided for the poorest people of Indian society. The cards, the investigators found, were still being held by some outlets of the Public Distribution System. Over the past ten years, the Birhor villagers had not gotten any of the grain handouts that they had been entitled to.

Another news report, also dated the 6th, indicated that the tragedy occurred on October 1, not October 2. It added that the adviser to the chief investigator appointed by the Supreme Court, someone named Balram, said, “during the field visit, I found that only one of the victim Birhor families had some maize grains. The rest had no foodgrain.” He and the other two investigators who visited the village said that the Birhor had died of what they called “fourth grade” hunger, caused by acute malnutrition.

The investigating team found that the rest of the villagers are also quite malnourished and more of them could die at any time unless help is provided quickly. Balram said, “the day the victims died, they had eaten some food, but could not digest them as they had not eaten for several days. They suffered from diarrhea and later died.”

District government officials refuted the claims of the investigators. Chatra Deputy Commissioner Siddique said that the victims had eaten pulses and rice on Wednesday, but they had died between 8:00 and 11:00 p.m. A medical team had rushed to the village to issue medicines to people who had diarrhea. Most of the families in the village had their rationing cards, he said.

The spokesperson for the investigating team is not accepting the government’s response. Despite the sworn affidavits by the officials that the ration cards had been issued, the investigators found that they had not. The investigating team will submit its report directly to the Supreme Court and it will urge the court to try to save the lives of the Birhor people.

Later in the week, on October 9, Yahoo News reported that the Civil Surgeon for the District, Ramesh Prasad, has attributed the deaths to either food poisoning caused by infected fish or to malnutrition. “Most of them were the poorest of the poor. Their frail bodies made it clear that they were malnourished,” he said. “However, some of them [the villagers] also told us that the victims died because they ate poisoned fish.”

A news item on October 10 helps to confuse the matter even more. It indicates that the medical team has treated 40 members of the village for a variety of ailments and distributed medicines to them. It adds that seven people who had gotten sick from the tragic illness the week before had all recovered. Interestingly, that article says the Congress Party has sent its own team to investigate conditions in the Birhor community. A spokesperson for the political investigative team promises a detailed report about the problems in the village.

A report on October 11 concluded that the Birhor had died from eating poisonous roots and contaminated food. The newspaper interviewed Mr. Siddique, who defended the Chatra District government’s attempts to ameliorate the poverty in Hindiakala. He blamed the victims, the Birhor, for their poverty since they were reluctant to take government jobs—for which they were unfit anyway, he feels.

The cumulative effect of these news stories is to give the impression that some bureaucrats are trying to cover up for the absence of effective rural social support programs. But it also appears as if some officials may be trying to make political capital out of the situation. Until the various promised reports are made public, it is difficult to make out what actually happened, and hard to see if anyone will really provide long-term help for the Birhor in Hindiakala village.

None of the reports mention the possibility that the destruction of the Birhor forest habitat may help cause their problems. For the moment, it is safe to conclude that the villagers suffer from a combination of tragic difficulties.

The third feature film produced by Igloolik Isuma Productions, titled “Before Tomorrow,” will be shown this evening in Peterborough, Ontario, as part of an Inuit cultural festival at Trent University. The first feature film by the company, “Atanarjuat: The Fast Runner,” won considerable critical acclaim in 2000.

Filmed between July 2006 and January 2007 and premiered in Igloolik over the weekend of February 23, 2008, “Before Tomorrow” is the story of a woman trying to survive with her grandson out on the land. On September 7, it was shown at the Toronto International Film Festival. The Arnait Video Productions collective, also located in Igloolik, adapted the script from a Danish novel and co-produced the film.

The collective focuses on gathering Inuit women’s stories in order to produce authentic films. The group defines its mission on its website: “The women of Arnait have found that building connections to our traditions and, thereby, with the lives of our ancestors, gives shape and vitality to the lives we are leading and to the whole of the world we are sharing. Our inspiration is rooted in the past and blossoms in the present—to shine as an example for those around us.”

“Before Tomorrow” will be shown this evening at 8:00 p.m. in Nozhem: First Peoples Performance Space, which is located in the Peter Gzowski College, the Enweying Building, 2501 Pioneer Rd., Peterborough, and it is open to the public. It is part of an eight-day program of activities titled “Sisters and Grandmothers: A Festival of Inuit Stories,” which is being hosted by the Indigenous Studies Department of Trent University.

Several other activities over the past week have also been open to the public, including a talk by artist Tanya Likin Linklater on Thursday October 2. This week on Tuesday and Wednesday that same artist performed a dance theatre piece, “ika lluk,” which included a reception and lessons in throat singing.

Members of the Arnait Video Productions collective are visiting Trent through tomorrow and leading workshops each day that focus on storytelling, the environment and language.

The latest chapter in a drama that made the national news in June played out in a Cambria County, Pennsylvania, courtroom last Thursday when a District Judge upheld a lower court’s findings against an Amish man. Andy Schwartzentruber, owner of land on which an Amish school is located, continues to defy official county sewage disposal orders regarding the human waste in outhouses next to the school. At Thursday’s hearing, District Judge Norman Krumenacker fined him $1,000 for violating the sewage ordinances, and ordered him to comply with the disposal regulations within 30 days.

The problem for the Amish began when some neighbors complained to the county about the school privy. They told officials that they were concerned with the safety of their well water because the Amish were cleaning the outhouse and spreading the waste by hand on Mr. Schwartzentruber’s fields. The county sided with the neighbors and ordered the Amish to follow county regulations. They must have the outhouses cleaned by licensed individuals who would follow approved treatment and disposal procedures.

When the county took action against the Amish for continuing to violate the regulations, six of them responded in January with a letter to the sewage enforcement agency. “We feel this sewage plan enforcement along with its standards is against our religious (beliefs),” they wrote. “Our forefathers and the church are conscientiously opposed to install[ing] the sewage method [according] to the world’s standards.”

In June, the local District Magistrate found both Mr. Schwartzentruber and his co-defendant, Sam Yoder, guilty of ignoring county sewage standards and his own orders by their continuing refusal to comply with the regulations of the sewer enforcement office. He fined both men and ordered them to serve 90 days in jail. The men, with the support of a sympathetic attorney, James Stratton, appealed to the County District Court, which heard the case on Thursday.

Mr. Yoder, the only Amish man to testify, told the court that members of his church had inquired about a permit, but they had not followed the instructions because they were concerned about various aspects of the permitting process. He did say that they had installed a 250 gallon tank enclosed in concrete and built two new outhouses for the school.

Judge Krumenacker concluded, however, “these rules exist to protect all people. The discharge and improper handling of human waste has led to huge disease and pollution issues over the centuries.” He added, “the problem is that the rules of disposal of human waste are there to protect all of us.” He also said that the Amish had not shown how the county’s permitting process had harmed their religious beliefs. “There is no evidence before the court that the permitting processes are unreasonable.”

The judge vacated the lower court’s ruling against Mr. Yoder, since Mr. Schwartzentruber was the owner of the land where the school and offending outhouses are located. (Schwartzentruber’s son now owns the property.) He also vacated the jail sentences against both men But he did indicate that Mr. Schwartzentruber must pay a fine of $1,000 for violating the laws and he must bring the outhouses into compliance with county regulations within 30 days or face further fines.

Mr. Schwartzentruber’s only comment after the hearing was that he would not pay any fines.

William Barbin, the solicitor for the county sewer enforcement agency and prosecutor in the case, indicated he was satisfied with the judge’s rulings. His office will mail out the proper permit applications to the Amish group, but he maintains that they must install the required 1,000 gallon septic tank. The one they installed themselves is not adequate. The Amish will also have to make arrangements for proper disposal of the wastes as they accumulate before the sewer office can issue permits.

“They have options,” Mr. Barbin said. “They could get bigger tanks and have it pumped out by contract or get a land application permit, mix the waste with lime and [follow] treatment measures.”

He emphasized that the county is quite willing to compromise with the Amish. “Are we willing to try to accommodate their sincere withheld [sic] religious beliefs? Absolutely. If they show why some rules should be treated differently because of their beliefs, we will always consider it,” he said. But, he added, “it is unfair to impose issues that you claim to be from your religion with people who don’t share that religion.” Furthermore, defending the idea of handing down a sentence against Mr. Schwartzentruber, Mr. Barbin asked, “how do we obtain compliance if a penalty is not imposed?”

James Stratton, the attorney for the Amish men, was not sure how they would respond to the judge’s orders. He said that they would certainly talk about the matter.

This controversial story has provoked a lot of media coverage in Pennsylvania. Local television crews, of course, respected the rules of the courthouse by not trying to film anything in the courtroom, but a similar sense of consideration did not deter one of the stations from filming several dozen Amish people after the hearing. They are shown in the glare of the television lights coming down the courthouse stairs, the men holding their straw hats over their faces.

“That was disgusting,” commented an offended neighbor of this writer on Friday morning after she saw the scene on the Altoona TV station. “Everyone knows the Amish don’t like to be photographed. They certainly showed no consideration for them.” Apparently the majority American society can demand respect for its laws and regulations, but television personnel do not have to reciprocate any sensitivity toward Amish values.

A current article by Richard Sosis, an anthropologist at the University of Connecticut and the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, discusses the traditional culture and values of the Ifaluk Islanders. His article is to appear in an edited volume, though apparently that work is not far enough along in the publication process to merit listings in bibliographic databases. But since Sosis has made his preliminary version available on his website, it is reasonable to comment about it as it now appears in draft form.

The major point of his article is to provide descriptions of the fishing by Ifaluk men. The author explains that he concentrates on fishing—men’s work—because he would not have been allowed to observe the Ifaluk women working in their taro patches. He describes the ways the men share their catch after their torch fishing at night, their rope fishing along the reef, and their cooperative fishing at another reef nine miles out to sea.

While the author’s details about the rituals practiced by the Ifaluk when they prepare to start fishing, their methods of catching fish, and the ways they distribute the fish afterwards are all interesting, his general discussions about Ifaluk society may be most useful to a general audience.

He begins by locating the island and its economy in the vastness of the Caroline Islands, within the Federated States of Micronesia (FSM). His maps show the four islands that make up the Ifaluk atoll, the two largest of which, Falalop and Falachig, are the ones that are inhabited. He reviews the population, land tenure, employment, education system, residence patterns, marriage arrangements, clan structures, and social control practices of the people.

The author makes it clear that Ifaluk is still very much cut off from the mainstream—the atoll has no roads, no motor vehicles, and no electricity. A supply ship run by the government of the FSM’s state of Yap, of which Ifaluk is part, reaches the islands about every eight weeks. The ship, the only regular means of transportation, brings medical supplies and food to all of the outer islands of the state. Sosis writes that “ Yap State is unequivocally referred to as the most traditional state in FSM, and Ifaluk the most traditional atoll in Yap State (p.13).”

The chiefs on Ifaluk like it that way, and they are openly trying to slow down the Islanders’ acculturation to modern ways. Residents of neighboring islands turn to the Ifaluk for fabrication of traditional goods, such as fishing nets, ropes, or looms. The chiefs prohibited western clothing, at least as of 1997 during the author’s most recent visit. Shirts, shorts, and sunglasses are banned, in favor of loin cloths for men and lava lava skirts for women. The chiefs also prohibit people from owning motor boats.

Of the two inhabited islands, Falachig is less traditional than Falalop. Modern facilities such as the elementary school and the medical dispensary are on Falachig. The channel between the two is only a hundred yards across and it is easy to wade even at high tide. The residents of Falachig to the north view their neighbors on Falalop as superstitious, while the people on the southern island see the folks to the north as regrettably forsaking their Ifaluk traditions.

However, the chiefs are getting elderly, and the sole remaining magician, who takes charge of ritual practices of the islanders, was nearly 70 as of 1997, and he had not taken an apprentice. While the Ifaluk are nominally Roman Catholic, missionaries have never been allowed on the island, so the rituals associated with their fishing and daily activities still play an important role in their lives. The author speculates that their cultural ways may soon be lost.

Sosis describes the nature of cooperative labor on the atoll. He explains how the men will be directed by the chiefs to contribute to the work of re-thatching a house for someone. All of the families will contribute specified amounts of thatch to the project, and they will turn out for a few hours, when directed by the chiefs, to do the work. Once the old thatch is removed from the needy house, teams of men will bring bundles of new thatch to the building, others will toss them up to the men on the roof, and other men will sit on the roof and tie them on. A thatching event typically takes an hour and a half. The owner of the house provides cigarettes to everyone who participates, as a form of payment.

The author also describes how the Ifaluk handle people who shirk their duty to assist others; he tells how one slacker was treated. Although the man needed to put a new roof on his home, he realized his name was associated with laziness everywhere on the atoll. If he asked the chiefs for assistance, few people would heed their call to come to help him. In addition, he did not have the money to purchase the cigarettes that he would need to provide as payment for the help of others.

The chiefs had forbidden the author from giving the man money, despite his frequent requests for help from him. All the man could do was to put plastic sheeting temporarily over his house to protect the inhabitants. After five months of this, the man had saved up enough thatch to make the new roof, so he asked the chiefs for their support. They granted his request, and with the help of some of his wife’s relatives and a small number of others, the house was re-thatched. His helpers grumbled when he paid them with taro and breadfruit rather than with cigarettes, as was customary.

Sosis, Richard. Forthcoming. “Ifaluk Atoll: An Ethnographic Account.” In Culture Conservancy, edited by Carol Ember [Further publication information not available]. PDF on the author’s website.

The giant bush fires that swept across the Central Kalahari Game Reserve (CKGR) in Botswana last month have finally burned out, but the damage is still being assessed.

Survival International raised the alarm about the situation on September 8 with a news release indicating that huge fires were destroying a lot of vegetation, including the tsamma melons on which the G/wi, and the other San peoples of the Kalahari, depend for water during the dry season.

These fires have not been the first to hit the area, of course, but evidently they were far larger than earlier blazes. According to Jumanda Gakelebone, speaking early in the month, “Sometimes there are fires but this is a lot bigger than before. People are trying to put it out but it’s too fast. Life for [the people who live in the reserve] is going to be very very difficult because the melons will be burned.”

An assessment last week of the extent of the fires indicates that about 80 percent of the CKGR has been devastated. The conflagrations roared through about 40,000 square kilometers of grasslands. The San people who live in the reserve—who defy the hostility of the Botswana government, which denies them the right to use water from a borehole—are now threatened by the destruction of their food and water sources. The melons that have supplied their water for millennia, and many species of roots and tubers they have traditionally eaten, have all been destroyed.

The fires fortunately did not kill any San people, and the government claims that little if any wildlife was harmed. Edmund Moadi, an official in the Botswana Ministry of Environment, Wildlife, and Tourism, says that the severity of the fires was probably due to the large amount of rainfall last year, which produced unusually lush vegetation. With drier conditions this year, everything was ready to burn. No one knows how the fires started.

Mr. Moadi said that his country does not have the resources to fight huge wildfires—it lacks airplanes, relying instead on volunteers plus army and police forces. He denied allegations that the government had tried to cover up the extent of the destruction. “The fires took us by surprise and we have been busy putting them out,” he said. He also denied that the blaze had affected the San people: “Fortunately the areas burnt are not those where there are settlements.”

The major issue for the G/wi and the other San peoples, now more than ever, is access to water and foods. The tourist lodges and diamond mines planned for the CKGR will not have problems gaining access to water. They will be permitted to bore wells for the water they need. The only people in the reserve not allowed to have drinking water are the indigenous San groups.

During the fires, a tourist lodge on the edge of the CKGR reported periods of heavy smoke, though the facility itself was unharmed. Last week, a spokesperson for the Botswana Tourism Board told the Sunday Standard, a Botswana newspaper, that the tour operators were juggling around tours and offering alternatives to tourists who had plans to visit the CKGR and its vast wildlife resources. Tourism and mining are both important industries for Botswana.

Robert Dentan, who has devoted his life to teaching and anthropological research, is publishing his third book in November. The Spectrum the University of Buffalo campus newspaper, has previewed Overwhelming Terror: Love, Fear, Peace, and Violence among the Semai of Malaysia, which will be published by Rowman & Littlefield on November 28.

The Semai “are the most peaceable people for whom there is adequate documentation,” Dentan told the paper. He said that they settle conflicts by discussing them, rather than by fighting or trying to determine innocence or guilt. Their only form of punishment is to embarrass people in their villages, and that is only done for serious problems.

He argues that the rest of the world could learn a lot from the peacefulness of the Semai. “There is no one so poor, ignorant, perverted, stupid, young or old that you can’t learn something from if you pay attention and treat them with respect,” he maintains. He hopes his new book will “teach that you can deal with terror in creative ways and that violence is simply stupid.” He admits that he tends to compare current world affairs with the ways the Semai would handle things, and he often sees issues through the lens of the other society.

The newspaper story adds several paragraphs of praise for Dentan as a creative teacher for 40 years at the University of Buffalo. “There’s just something really captivating about Dentan when he teaches, you can tell he truly loves what he does and has a passion for culture,” one of his former students said. Although Dentan is now retired, his former colleagues still express their admiration for him. “Professor Dentan is a man of exemplary character and virtue,” according to a UB staff member.

The paper reports that Dentan still hangs out every Thursday afternoon from 5:00 to 6:45 at a local restaurant so students who want to meet with him can find him easily. Presumably, people who buy his new book, or who have read his many earlier writings, could also travel to Buffalo and find him at Doctor Bird’s Rasta-Rant, 3104 Main Street, on Thursday afternoons. He would undoubtedly be delighted to talk about peacefulness, the Semai, and related subjects. His book will be reviewed in these pages shortly after it becomes available.

Some observers might assume that nothing exciting ever happens in a hog barn, but the regular, daily work of raising pigs is an important part of Hutterite life. At least it is with some Manitoba Hutterites at the Starlite Colony near Starbuck, Manitoba, just west of Winnipeg, which a couple interns from the Winnipeg Free Press visited this summer. Paul Gackle focused a lengthy newspaper article on a typical day in the life of James Hofer, the manager of hog operations at the Starlight Colony, and his family. The other intern, Sarah Kearney, took the photographs that accompany the story.

The author emphasizes the incredible regularity of life at the colony. People arise punctually in the morning, eat together in the colony dining hall, and go to sleep promptly in order to keep on schedule. The women get up at 6:00 to begin preparing breakfast for the colony, which is eaten together in the dining hall when the men get there at 7:13 a.m. By 7:30 the men are heading back to their homes to prepare for the work of the day, the women to the kitchen to wash the dishes. The author follows the men’s work.

Mr. Hofer and his sons devote the half hour after breakfast to meditation, prayer, and reading the Bible. “It gets you in the right frame of mind for the day, gives you something positive to think about… Spirituality starts up here,” he says, touching his temple.

Gackle talks with Hofer about materialism in Hutterite colonies. Many distracting luxury goods such as televisions, radios, new fashions, and cosmetics are not allowed. They might distract individuals from contemplating God, and they could foster immorality and selfishness. The Hofers maintain that their happiness is based on the family and the colony. “You sacrifice your own will, your desires, for the desires of the church and community,” Mr. Hofer adds.

Nonetheless, the children in the family find ways of tuning in to the doings of the outside world, at least to some extent. Shane, the 14-year old son, manages to follow the games of the Winnipeg Blue Bombers, the local ice hockey team, but he admits, “they always lose.” The kids are allowed to roam after dinner, and they can sneak onto neighboring properties to watch a bit of professional sports on a TV. “We’re only human,” says one youngster.

At the stroke of 8:00, the father and his three older sons, aged 19, 16, and 14, head out to the hog barn to begin their work for the day. The author chronicles in detail how they inseminate the sows, move them to gestation stalls 35 days later, move them to a farrowing barn 115 days after insemination, wean the piglets 26 days after birth, re-inseminate the sows 119 days later, and so on. Everything runs like clockwork—insemination, birthing, and shipping pigs off to market 160 days after they are born. “The clock never stops ticking,” the author concludes.

Gackle extols the efficiency of the hog operation: modern feeding systems, automated scales that weigh each pig daily, and a carefully regulated climate control system. Every 20 minutes, each gestating sow gets a three-minute timed shower from a sprinkler system. Unlike the Amish, who share their Anabaptist heritage, the Hutterites embrace technology that will make their working operations more efficient.

The author’s visit to the colony began when he met some Hutterites at a legislative committee hearing about a provincial bill that would outlaw new hog operations in the Red River Valley. The intent of the bill is to cut down on pollutants that are entering Lake Winnipeg. But the bill, if it becomes law, would also harm the economies of the Hutterite colonies in the province, particularly new ones. The author visited the Starlite Colony to observe a hog operation.

But the article is much broader than just the work in the barns. Mr. Hofer describes gender relations in the colony, a topic that often interests outsiders. He describes how the bride always moves into the colony of her husband, which is just a Hutterite tradition, not a conscious effort to subordinate women, he maintains. “I always tell a girl when she gets married. You’re giving up your last name, not your first name. You’re not ‘the wife…’ you are Sheila, Thelma or Dorothy,” he says.

Mr. Hofer’s favorite time each day is during the afternoon break, when he and his family get together for a snack in their family kitchen. Since they don’t eat their regular meals together, it is the only opportunity they have to relax with one another. The couple tells the author that they met at her colony and hung out together during several of his visits until he asked her to marry him. Mrs. Hofer mentions that frequently there are limited opportunities for romance in the colonies, and that inbreeding can be a real concern.

Son Jamie, 19 years old, says he has had a girl friend since he was 17, though he has had other girl friends. “Some guys like trucks, some like football, I like girls…it’s in the Hofer blood,” he tells the visitor. On a trip to another colony, he found his current girlfriend. “I went fishing and caught a girl,” he says.

He describes his dating experiences. “You go for a walk, hold hands… maybe you give her a little kiss…. But you only call a girl your girlfriend if you can truly say you love her from the bottom of your heart.”

But the young man is not yet ready to marry. He would have to be baptized first, a step which he is not ready for. “Every day is a struggle to overcome the flesh and live in the spirit,” he indicates. “I still do things sometimes that I know I shouldn’t do…like go into Starbucks at night and drink beer.” When he overcomes his internal struggles, he will probably settle down, baptize into the faith, marry, and continue Hutterite traditions by helping to raise his own family.

Ewald Hauck Dinter, a 70-year old German priest, has been living for 22 years among the Mangyan people of Mindoro Island, learning their customs and even their spoken Buid language. During that time he has gained the trust of the people and become an advocate for opening up educational opportunities for them. A recent Philippine press report about him emphasizes the importance of providing a good education for the Buid and the other Mangyan peoples.

Fr. Dinter has been in the Philippines since 1967. At first he moved about from one place to another, but he then settled in the mountains of Mindoro, which he fell in love with. He explains that he has a very strong interest in the Mangyan culture. He has not only learned to speak their language, he also has learned to read the ancient writings.

At first he was viewed as an outsider when he moved into a hut in the mountains. “I had to wait for a long time before I was able to earn their trust. When I [taught] them about what I learned with my anthropological background, they would just stare at me blankly and refuse to listen. Some lowlanders would even call me stupid man. I realized I was facing a wall because they wouldn’t let me in their world,” he told the reporter.

After some months, as the tribal elders continued to study him, they began to change their attitudes. “Two elderly Mangyans came to me at a feast and told me that I was observed very closely. They said you never made any negative remark about our culture. Now we decide you may know everything.” He was thrilled that they had finally accepted his presence.

He repays their trust by advocating for schools for their communities. He is the coordinator of Mangyan Mission, Inc., a non-governmental organization that has helped establish 27 public elementary schools in many Mangyan communities around Mindoro. His organization discusses the need for schools with the communities, and builds them to meet community specifications. After the schools are built, they are turned over to the Department of Education.

He emphasizes similar themes as the ones covered in news stories reported last week in these pages about the importance of melding the best of the outside world with the strength of their indigenous culture. He expresses himself effectively:

“With indigenous education (patterned after the non-formal system called the Alternative Learning System), there is no grading system. No competition according to the Mangyans. It is all about equality. Anyone regardless of age can study. We usually don’t hold classes during the rainy season because it is hard for the students to walk going to the school on the mountains. We also have adult education at night time for the parents and elders,” he indicates.

He doesn’t mind discussing the many accomplishments of his mission—the thousands of Mangyans who have graduated from school, and the people who have come back as teachers, nurses, and midwives to work in their society. He is especially proud of one Mangyan youth who is now an attorney working with the provincial government. That man “is proud of his Mangyan culture. He always introduces himself as a Mangyan. In his graduation [from] law school, his grandfather who had never worn any pants, came in [a] g-string. But he was proud of him,” Dinter says.

The priest admits that some Mangyan young people gain an education but become ashamed of their villages. He tells them not to feel inferior, to be proud of the societies that they represent. To help along the process of building pride in the local culture, he has published a six-volume work on Mangyan folktales. He is also active in efforts to preserve the Buid writing system.

In recognition of his educational work, dedication, and service among the Mangyan people, Fr. Dinter will be feted at a “Tribute to Teachers” program to be held at the SMX Convention Center in Pasay City on September 27.

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