A news website called The Malaysian Insight published a photo story last week about the Chewong mahouts who work with the elephants at the Kuala Gandah National Elephant Centre.

Elephants at Kuala Gandah with their mahouts
Elephants at Kuala Gandah with their mahouts (Photo by suanie on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

The brief text that accompanies the 10 photos indicates that for 10 years, the Chewong have been trained as elephant keepers and mahouts at Kuala Gandah, located in Malaysia’s Pahang state. The training program there teaches the Chewong how to care for elephants and it gives the employees additional, useful skills. The training program also gives the Department of Wildlife and National Parks insights into working with the Orang Asli people.

Kuala Gandah currently has 25 elephants, some of which the author, Seth Akmal, photographed with their Chewong handlers. The ten photos that accompany the brief story include a Chewong mahout bathing an elephant, mahouts riding their elephants before a show, mahouts bringing their animals close to visitors, and so on.

According to Howell (2015), the National Elephant Conservation Centre was developed by Malaysia in the late 1980s right next to the village that the government had established for the Chewong at the edge of the Krau Game Reserve. The village was designed in an effort to get them to accept a settled, agricultural lifestyle. Elephants were then brought to Kuala Gandah from all over Malaysia as the natural forests of the country were cleared, mostly for palm oil plantations.

Visitors help to wash a young elephant at the Kuala Gandah Elephant Conservation Centre
Visitors help to wash a young elephant at the Kuala Gandah Elephant Conservation Centre (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 2nd class Joe Painter in Wikipedia, in the public domain)

Kuala Gandah is widely promoted as a major tourist attraction—as of 2009, Howell wrote, it hosted 150,000 visitors and the numbers were increasing. A paved road leads into the area, ending at the boundary of the Krau Game Reserve where the Chewong have traditionally hunted, fished, and gathered. At the end of the road, the pavement divides, the right fork leading into the elephants, the left into the “aboriginal reserve,” according to a sign.

In the early period of the elephant sanctuary, it did not employ any Chewong but as of the date of Howell’s most recent visit, several Chewong men, but no women, were employed as guards or cleaning workers. The government erected a small building as an exhibit space for the sale of Chewong crafts to visitors and as a place for them to sit and listen to lectures about the Orang Asli people, their beliefs and practices.

Howell wrote that she attended the public lectures several times, listening to presentations by a woman that were filled with inaccuracies. The same woman, the wife of another employee, also managed the shop where the Chewong crafts are sold. According to rumors, the Chewong only receive a small portion of the proceeds but, “true to form, no Chewong confronts her about this (p.70).”

A Chewong family
A Chewong family (Detail from the cover of the book Society and Cosmos: Chewong of Peninsular Malaysia, by Signe Howell)

Howell (2015) concluded that she has observed many changes in Chewong society over the decades that she has been doing fieldwork among them. Most of the changes are due to pressures from the surrounding, larger society. But she doubts that the Chewong will necessarily end up as badly as many other former hunter-gatherer societies have been doing. They may not become stricken with poverty as others have because of the modernization that surrounds them. In essence, she feels that they may be able to avoid that fate.

The Chewong are motivated by numerous different beliefs and local influences that will prompt them to make a variety of choices. Howell found it difficult to predict how well they will react to each new constraint, but presuming her article is an accurate guide, it is clear that they will make their own best choices for themselves. Ten of their men have chosen to accept employment as mahouts—but others may choose to go into the forest and forage for their food. It will be their choice.

 

Some Batek living in a village called Kampung Dedari, located in Malaysia’s Taman Negara National Park, have changed their minds about the value of their young people getting a formal education. Ahmad A. Talib traveled up the Tembeling River to visit the village, interview some parents and children, and write a piece last week for the Malaysian newspaper New Straits Times.

Two Batek children in the Taman Negara National Park
Two Batek children in the Taman Negara National Park (Photo by Fergus Macdonald on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

According to the writer, 16 years ago some Batek children from the villages along the Tembeling were enrolled in a school for about two weeks until they fled back home and never returned. He doesn’t say where but it was presumably a residential school in one of the towns on the periphery of the park, perhaps Kuala Tahan or Jerantut, commercial centers also located on the river.

The presumed reason was that getting an education had never been a priority for the Batek. Their schooling had consisted of learning to live in the forest, skills taught by a child’s parents and passed down through the generations. Attending school could be compared to serving time in prison, they felt.

Jerantut, Malaysia
Jerantut, Malaysia (Photo by Khairul hazim in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)

But the 55 children in Kampung Dedari are now being exposed to an experiment. All of them, ages 6 through 16, have been grouped into a single class at a national school in Jerantut called, in Malay, the Sekolah Kegangsaan Kuala Tahan. The initiative was started by the school itself plus the JAKOA (the Malaysian Department of Orang Asli Development), the District Education Office, and an organization called the Kelab Pencinta Burung Taman Negara. That translates as “Bird Group Taman Negara,” an NGO that advocates for the study and protection of birds and their forested habitats in the national park. Roslan Abu Kassim, an experienced nature guide, is the major force behind the new program.

Roslan explained the reasoning behind putting all the children in the same class: the arrangement will last for six months while the kids are acclimatized to the environment of being at school. Then they will go into appropriate age classes. Their instruction in spelling, reading and math skills will be included in the coming months with such basics as appropriate discipline in a school environment, proper ways of interacting with other students and teachers, and how to use a toilet. In essence, it is a pre-school setup for kids who have never attended a school. After two months of the pre-school so far, the youngsters can do some reading and counting.

Batek children in Kampung Dedari used to stay at home rather than go to school
Batek children in Kampung Dedari used to stay at home rather than go to school (Photo by Cleffairy and posted on her blog “Over a Cuppa Tea,” Creative Commons license)

The author of the news report writes that the parents back in Kampung Dedari believe their children’s lives can be improved through formal schooling. One 12-year old, named Tahan An, has already been affected by the school. When the author asked him what he hopes to become when he grows up, he replied that he wants to be head of JAKOA. The picture of him that accompanies the article, surrounded by a group of admiring classmates, shows a cute kid wearing an orange jacket whom the reader can easily suspect may well achieve that goal.

Tahan’s father said, in English translation, “We have wasted many years. Now, we want our children to be able to communicate with the outside world and bring development to our village.” Another parent told the writer that they want their children to study, and to not be like their parents. A third parent said, “Let these children attend school. They can learn and be somebody.”

In 2016, while the Batek men in Kampung Dedari hunted, the women stayed home and cared for the children
In 2016, while the Batek men in Kampung Dedari hunted, the women stayed home and cared for the children (Photo by Cleffairy and posted on her blog “Over a Cuppa Tea,” Creative Commons license)

A news article just two years ago described Kampung Dedari after the community had recently opened itself to tourists. The village headman, Sena, told members of the visiting press group in March 2016 that none of the children attended school—they grew up learning how to hunt, fish, and gather forest foods from their parents. He told the journalist writing the 2016 article that “his community preferred to lead a simple and peaceful life, where the men go hunting and fishing while the womenfolk cook and look after the children.”

Other than the quotes by the parents, it is still not completely clear from the article last week why the people changed their minds about the value of preserving their traditional lifestyles versus accepting modernization. But the article does emphasize how strongly the parents in Kampung Dedari really are behind the initiative. Six parents have given up their foraging in the forest to staff the three boats being used to transport the kids along the river both ways every day from the village to the school and back.

A Batek boy in Taman Negara National Park
A Batek boy in Taman Negara National Park (Photo by Dracular on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

Roslan, the spark-plug behind the initiative, secured funding from sponsors to get the program going and to pay the six people who are staffing the boats RM30 per day or 600 per month each. The total amount needed to sponsor the program is thus RM 3600 (US $920) per month. Ahmad A. Talib, the author of the piece, provides his email and Twitter contacts in case readers want to help. If enough sponsors don’t step forward, the program might be in danger. He can be reached via [email protected] and Twitter: @aatpahitmanis. He was clearly impressed by what he saw.

 

For one week every year, women in the Acadia Hutterite Colony, located about 5 miles northeast of the town of Carberry in southwestern Manitoba, host a quilting event for charity. The ladies hold their quilting bee in the school gym on the colony grounds. According to a recent newspaper account, the women completed 800 quilts this year, their highest number yet. Aided by members from three or four neighboring colonies each day, the women layer the quilt tops, install batting and backing, and do the quilting with their sewing machines.

The Manitoba prairie at Virden
The Manitoba prairie at Virden (Photo by Megan Smith on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

One day in early February, members of a quilting club in the town of Virden, located near the border with Saskatchewan, drove 75 miles across the Canadian prairie to visit Acadia. The “Crazy Stitchers” as they call themselves were overwhelmed by the scene when they entered the colony that February morning. “We were in awe of what we saw when entering the gym and seeing all the ladies working on so many quilts,” said Betty Bender, the President of the Virden group. Huge numbers of quilts were piled everywhere.

The Hutterite women from the Acadia Colony begin after Christmas making the quilt tops from pieces of fabric they have on hand. Ladies from the other cooperating colonies also donate quilt tops they have made. They purchase the batting and the backing. Then, during the quilting week, they all work together, sharing ideas about quilting and other news. Marian Waldner from Acadia explained that they get together with many sewing machines to do the quilting—as well as to socialize. While they used to spend the first several days of the week sewing the quilt tops, they then decided to sew them in advance so they could devote the week exclusively to the quilting.

A group of young Hutterite women photographed in 1954 in Headingley, Manitoba
A group of young Hutterite women photographed in 1954 in Headingley, Manitoba (Photo by Rosemary Gilliat on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

Hutterite females who are too elderly, or too young, to handle the sewing machines help with support work such as removing pins when the quilts are finished. The completed quilts are then donated to charitable organizations and the needy in Ontario and Manitoba. Ms. Bender, the visitor that day from Virden, remarked that her group, the Crazy Stitchers, had had a wonderful day at Acadia. The Hutterite women did some singing while they worked, she said.

Janzen and Stanton’s 2010 book The Hutterites in North America made the point that quilting is just one of many work projects that colony women get involved with. They argued that Hutterite men and women like to work on group projects as much as they can. They are raised from the time they are children to pitch in and work hard with others. They learn that they are working for the larger group, the colony, and not for themselves—it is the ethos of communal living in action.

Hutterite women at work together
Hutterite women at work together (Photo by Stefan Kuhn in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)

In the colonies they visited, the two authors did not see any complaining about having too much work to do, even from kids—they are all expected to pitch in and work together. While the colony men repair machinery and do carpentry work, the authors pointed out, colony women paint and varnish furniture, sew, and quilt. Janzen and Stanton wrote that they witnessed teenage girls smiling, telling stories, and singing while picking berries in the middle of a raspberry patch on a hot summer afternoon. A massive quilting bee with many highly motivated women involved, such as the Acadia Colony organizes each year, is apparently a very normal activity for the Hutterites.

 

To commemorate International Mother Language Day, held on February 21 each year, an Egyptian magazine decided to interview the co-founder of the Nubi-App, a repository of the Nubian language.

The logo of the Nubi app
The logo of the Nubi app

Momen Talosh told the magazine Egypt Today that the app is being regularly updated and that it has been downloaded 13,000 times. It focuses on simple Nubian sentences to help people deal with daily situations, he said. It has other features designed to promote Nubian culture, such as a guide to popular Nubian-style restaurants and cafes in Egypt. The app also helps market products made by Nubians.

He said that the slogan of the organizers is, “we bring Al-Nuba to your fingertips.” It offers lessons in both dialects of the Nubian language, Kinzi and Visicci, by using animated cartoon characters that have original Nubian names. Mr. Talosh is collaborating with others in an initiative that hopes to have Nubian added to the Google Translate service, with the associated keyboard options.

Nubian girls in Aswan, the third or fourth generation Nubians
Nubian girls in Aswan, the third or fourth generation Nubians (photo by babletravel in Flickr, Creative Commons license)

In his opinion, usage of the Nubian language has declined due to the diaspora caused by the destruction of Old Nubia by the Nile dams at Aswan and the relocation of so many people to the major Egyptian cities, Cairo and Alexandria. The first generation of refugees spoke and understood their language, the second generation still understood it even if they rarely spoke it, and the third generation, the grandchildren of the Nubian refugees, neither speak nor understand spoken Nubian. Talosh is alarmed that the language is on the way to going extinct. Hence, the need for his app.

Last July, the online daily newspaper Egypt Independent published a similar, and somewhat more informative, article about the Nubi app. According to that report, the aim of the app is not only to foster the use of Nubian by younger people but to also promote appreciation of Nubian culture more widely. It launched in February 2017.

A page from a manuscript in Old Nubian that shows the original characters
A page from a manuscript in Old Nubian that shows the original characters (Photo by Mustafaa of a mss. in the British Museum, in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)

Talosh, a programmer, told the reporter that he got the idea for the app one day while he was trying to teach some Nubian letters and numbers to his young cousin. The youngster couldn’t be diverted from the wonders offered by his tablet, so the programmer decided to take his message into the kid’s online world. “The language is dying, and Nubi app is trying to let it reach the world and provide access for everybody,” he told the newspaper.

The Nubi app includes photos and stories from Old Nubia plus historical facts and information. It also includes links to books written by Nubian authors, Nubian songs and proverbs, plus information about the pronunciation of spoken Nubian. Talosh works for a programming company in its applications support department.

The Egypt Independent story indicated that the app will encourage Nubian vendors to market their products. It will provide tourists with useful information when they are going to Aswan, such as restaurants, hotels, bazaars, and spots for people to visit. “This will support internal tourism in Egypt, and it will also help marketing the Nubian vendors who have a great talent in the handmade crafts,” Talosh added.

 

A cooperative sporting event between a Tahitian team and one from Hawaii last week provided welcome relief from all the news about the Winter Olympics competitions in South Korea. A brief news story on February 20 by a Honolulu television station reported on a non-competitive canoe race in the water off Maui between teams from two luxury resort hotels, the Four Seasons Resort Bora Bora and the Four Seasons Resort Maui.

An outrigger canoe race in French Polynesia
An outrigger canoe race in French Polynesia (Photo by Bianca Henry in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)

Apparently the hotel on Bora Bora, one of the major islands in the Society Islands, challenged the resort on Maui, in Hawaii, to a friendly competitive event dedicated to the spirit of cooperation and sharing of cultures rather than to just winning. The canoe “race” was held in the ocean off Maui last week as part of the Makahiki season, when Polynesians set aside time for play and sport. Makahiki season, a festive Hawaiian tradition, takes place from October or November through February or March. All warfare traditionally had to stop during Makahiki so people could celebrate the bounties of the land.

The television news crew interviewed Martin Dell from the Maui hotel, who said that the Four Seasons Bora Bora issued the challenge to the resort on Maui “to paddle together.” He indicated that they accepted the challenge in the spirit of the season, and it was great welcoming their “brothers from Tahiti.”

The Four Seasons Resort Bora Bora
The Four Seasons Resort Bora Bora (Photo by Charly W. Karl on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

Eric Bensahin from the Bora Bora resort expressed his gratitude for being in Hawaii. It was more than just a race, he said—it was all about building connections between the different Polynesian peoples. With the video focusing on the different teams embracing on the beach at the end of the event, the narrator concluded that the two resorts hope that they can draw in other hotels and make it into an annual event, “all in the spirit of sharing and learning and cooperation.”

Oliver observed in his classic ethnography (1981) that canoe racing, which had been a traditional sport of the Tahitians, had been abandoned by the time he did his fieldwork there. In one of the villages in which he worked, it had been abandoned many years before while in the other it had ceased more recently. When he asked, in both communities, why they had abandoned it, the Tahitians responded, “Aita faufa‘a,” meaning it was without value (p.199). Oliver interpreted that to suggest that the sport had no monetary value to the Tahitians at that time.

It would appear from the news story last week about the event at Maui and from other recent reports that whatever hesitation the Tahitians may have had to participating in outrigger canoe racing 50 years ago, they have embraced it enthusiastically once again.

 

Tourism offers many benefits to the mountain villages of Ladakh—far more than just infusions of outside cash, according to a report posted last week on a website from India. The author of the article visited the remote village of Rumbak, which is 6 miles from the end of the motor road in the Hemis National Park, to investigate. The reporter, Sharada Balasubramanian, hiked into the village to talk with the Ladakhi farmers and see what their perspectives were on the increased tourism they had encouraged. How has it impacted their lives? What benefits has it had for the wildlife in the park, especially its iconic predator species, the snow leopard?

Mules transporting supplies near Rumbak, in the Hemis National Park
Mules transporting supplies near Rumbak, in the Hemis National Park (Photo by Karunakar Rayker on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

The reporter’s guide, Tsewang Gyaltsan, a 33-year old from Rumbak, told her while they hiked into the community that the villagers normally use mules to transport goods such as sacks of groceries, vegetables, and flour from the end of the road to the village. Solar panels, which they have installed to provide some electrification, were brought in on mules so they had to be the right size for that mode of transportation. The gas cylinders that the villagers use for power must also be carried in and out the same way.

A continuing, major issue for the villagers has been the loss of their livestock to snow leopards, which tend to kill off all the edible animals within reach rather than just the one they want for dinner that day. But the leopards are a major draw for tourists, so officials decided to try and reduce the numbers of livestock. Jigmet Takpa, the Chief Conservator of Forests for the Leh District, figured that providing an alternative source of livelihood might reduce the need for people to continue raising so many animals.

Ladakhi farmer with cattle
Ladakhi farmer with cattle (Photo by Prabhu B. Doss on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

The problem of tourism, according to the writer, has been that much of the income from tourists remains with the travel companies and the hotels. Trekkers, who are likely to visit remote spots such as Rumbak, tend to carry their own camping equipment and supplies and spend very little in the mountain villages. Tsewang Namgail, the Director of the Snow Leopard Conservancy India Trust (SLC-IT), said that some villagers suggested that they try encouraging trekkers to stay in the village homes and accept their hospitality.

Officials surveyed some trekkers to see if they would be interested and shared the positive results with the people of Rumbak. The villagers began their homestay experiment a couple years into the new century. Although some of them were initially hesitant, they soon became enthusiastic about the idea. Local and state government officials helped by training the people in such skills as identifying wildlife, providing hospitality to international guests, and assuming appropriate behavior patterns with visitors. They trained Gyaltsan how to identify the local birds and on ways to locate the snow leopards, two interests of many tourists.

Trekkers in Hemis National Park
Trekkers in Hemis National Park (Photo by Adam Greig on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

Officials encouraged the villages participating in the homestay initiative to prepare their own rules and regulations for the trekkers, and to form a regional administrative committee by electing one person from each village to represent it. The people should decide on their own names for local management committees. The people of Rumbak named their committee the Youth Association for Development of Hemis National Park.

Most of the developments since the SLC-IT program began appear to have been successful.  Direct conflicts with the snow leopards were reduced when the agency provided wire mesh to the villagers so they could better fence in their cattle—and fence out the leopards. The agency helped the people establish a bank account as an insurance fund to cover losses to livestock from leopards, and it matched the money provided by the villagers in that fund.

A snow leopard in the Hemis National Park
A snow leopard in the Hemis National Park (Photo by the Snow Leopard Conservancy in Wikimedia, in the public domain)

Namgail, the SLC-IT official, explained the way the loss compensation fund should work, and he told the reporter that today the villagers own fewer livestock. But whenever there are losses due to the snow leopards, the villagers handle the claims themselves.

The forestry official, Takpa, said that the snow leopard homestay scheme has provided benefits in other ways. Since people are trying to provide good, nutritious meals to the trekkers, they are also learning to prepare and cook better foods for themselves. “When they cook for trekkers, they also eat a healthy and wholesome meal,” he said. Nwang Yongtan, a 75-year old farmer from Rumbak, agreed and added that they used to walk considerable distances to find wood to cut and sell for the income it would provide. No longer.

A view of Rumbak
A view of Rumbak (Photo by Sebastian Preusser on Flickr, Creative Commons license).

He said that the homestays have improved their living conditions. A villager might have had an annual income of Rs 20,000 before the homestay project started; now, Gyaltsan said, he earns more than six times that amount each year. He is able to send his children to school in Leh, which is over the mountains about 10 miles to the northeast as the Lammergeier flies.

The women of Rumbak also benefit. Tashi Tsonma said that she used to walk long distances to find wood for heating water. Now, solar heaters supply hot water. Another villager enjoys having lighting at night, which provides a new level of comfort for all. Furthermore, the women are creating handicrafts, such as snow leopard souvenirs, and selling them to the trekkers.

Another change brought about by the homestay project is that when there are guests in the homes, the men cannot drink as much as they used to. Avoiding alcohol is becoming a habit in the community.

 

The Paliyans from a village in southern India who grow high-quality organic coffee for sale were recognized last Thursday with an article in a major Indian newspaper.

The mountains of Kodaikanal
The mountains of Kodaikanal (Photo by wishvam in Flickr, Creative Commons license)

According to the journalist who wrote the story, the Paliyan of Korankombu village, which is located in Kodaikanal Block, Dindigul District of Tamil Nadu, have been growing very high quality coffee using only their traditional methods of cultivation, without any chemicals. They have not been given any financial support from private or government sources, so they would not have been able to afford any fertilizers or pesticides even if they had wanted to use them.

Instead, they rely on their traditional farming methods for growing coffee in the forest reserve areas of their village. K. Raju, the journalist, quoted K. Murugan, a Paliyan farmer in Korankombu, who said that since they have no money to buy chemicals, they apply organic wastes and natural manure to their coffee plants. They make sure that the plants are growing in natural shade conditions in order to produce a better yield. And attacks by pests, at least this year, have been under control due to good rainfall.

A Paliyan man in 1909
A Paliyan man in 1909 (Photo in Edgar Thurston, Castes and Tribes of Southern India, 1909, vol. 5, following page 464, in the public domain)

Another Paliyan farmer, G. Sankar, told the journalist that they never pay for the labor needed to harvest the coffee on their plantations. Family members of the different farmers work on each others farms for free. Sankar told Raju, “‘Shram dhan’ is still in vogue among tribal planters for harvesting.” “Shram dhan” appears to mean, in this context, working selflessly to help others.

The coffee-growing Paliyans have not been visited by officials from the agricultural research centers in India. In fact, the only officials who have visited the village have been forestry and police people. But impressed by their hard work, the officers from the Forest Department are acting under the provisions of the Forest Rights Act of 2006 to legalize the rights of the villagers to the forests they are using. Over 36 farming families in the village will benefit from that legal designation.

Coffee beans from Kodaikanal
Coffee beans from Kodaikanal (Photo by leliebloem on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

But legalizing their rights to their lands won’t bring fortunes to the people of Korankombu. Since they have virtually no contacts with the outside world, they have to depend on the owners of the large estates to sell their coffee. They can only sell their crops by giving their entire harvests to those owners and accepting whatever payments they deign to give them. And even to this day, Raju wrote, the only foods they are sure of obtaining are the tubers that they harvest themselves from the forests.

In his exhaustive book on the Paliyans, Gardner (2000) mentioned that the British began establishing coffee plantations in the Kodaikanal region in 1838, in areas inhabited by Paliyans. Coffee growing by the Paliyan themselves would thus appear to be a more recent development.

 

A committee in Egypt, charged by President el-Sisi with totaling up the damages caused to Nubians when the Aswan High Dam destroyed their villages over 50 years ago, has completed its work. Egypt Today, a monthly magazine, posted an article last week reporting that the committee has listed the families involved that deserve some financial restitution and it has referred its recommendations on to the Egyptian cabinet.

A view of Lake Nasser from the site of the Abu Simbel temples
A view of Lake Nasser from the site of the Abu Simbel temples (Photo by HamYoyo in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)

The committee, headed by Hossam Abdel-Rahim, the Justice Minister, was formed after the National Youth Forum was held in January 2017 in the city of Aswan. One of the recommendations of the NYF for confronting the various issues that challenge the people of Upper Egypt was to deal with the claims of the Nubian people who lost their homes due to the formation of Lake Nasser in the 1960s. Many have never, despite promises, received any compensation.

According to the president, the choice of Aswan as the venue for that important national conference was a signal that the Nubian people have done a lot for their country and have made many sacrifices but they have not, as yet, received what they deserve from the government. The report from the committee also recommended that the city of Aswan be transformed into a cultural and economic capital for the rest of Africa through more investments in education, housing, transportation, and health needs.

President Abdel Fattah el-Sisi
President Abdel Fattah el-Sisi (Photo by the Kremlin in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)

At the NYF conference in Aswan last year, President el-Sisi delivered the concluding address, saying about the local people, in part, “I’m fully aware that you didn’t get what you really deserve yet, and we realize what you all have been through during the past years. I appreciate your sacrifices and stamina. I assure to you all that Upper Egypt’s development and issues are on the top of our priorities, and that’s why we decided to choose Aswan for the conference.”

According to the magazine article, Nubian elders consider the president’s move to re-open the compensation issue “a positive step.” The president also said at the NYF conference, “Upper Egypt is on the government’s top priorities and I gave direct orders to work hard for improving the situation of the people at all levels.”

A Nubian man protesting on the Aswan to Abu Simbel highway, November 19, 2016 (Photo from the news blog Egyptian Chronicles, Creative Commons license)
A Nubian man protesting on the Aswan to Abu Simbel highway, November 19, 2016 (Photo from the news blog Egyptian Chronicles, Creative Commons license)

A skeptical reader may wonder how this development will affect the status of the Nubian activists and leaders who dared to demonstrate in Aswan for their various demands on September 3 and were promptly arrested by the police. They languished in prison for a while and were subsequently tried for their crime of challenging the policies of the Egyptian state. They were charged with such crimes as participating in a demonstration without official approval. The initial arrests of 24 demonstrators were subsequently augmented when 8 more people were charged with crimes, bringing the total to 32.

An Amnesty International news release on Feb.2 reported that the trial by the State Security Emergency Court of the 32 Nubians involved in the demonstration had been postponed on January 30 until February 27. The court is expected to impose sentences of up to five years in prison for the Nubian activists at the next court hearing. The Amnesty news page has a link to a more lengthy PDF report on the situation. It is not clear what relationship the impending sentencing of the activists may have, if any, with the nice words from the Egyptian president. Things may be clarified next week if the court hands down its sentences, as expected.

 

A group of seven friends have formed a band in Sikkim in order to preserve the Lepcha language and to help popularize traditional Lepcha folk music, both of which are endangered. A news story in the magazine Eclectic Northeast last week described the progress, and setbacks, of the Lepcha folk-fusion band Sofiyum.

A Lepcha man, Sonam Tshering Lepcha, playing a string instrument in the Lepcha Museum, Kalimpong, India, that he designed himself
Sonam Tshering Lepcha playing a string instrument in the Lepcha Museum, Kalimpong, India, that he designed himself (Photo by Suhas Dutta from a video on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

The founder of the band and the lead vocalist, Micma Tsh Lepcha, explained to the journalist, Mrinal Paul, that “Sofiyum” is the word for “breeze” in Lepcha. He and his friends felt that a good way to revive the traditional culture was to focus on the language as it is used in their folk songs. He said that their music is based on natural sounds since nature forms the basis of their beliefs. Their folk music is preserved orally, he explained, by being passed down through the generations.

It is clear from the article that Micma and the rest of the band want to popularize the folk music as well as just preserve it. Even though there aren’t very many others who are promoting Lepcha music, he feels that it will not be completely forgotten. It fosters a “feeling of identity,” he explained, so some people will probably continue to cherish it, regardless of how often it is played by bands.

The band members use traditional Lepcha instruments in order to further the connections with their cultural heritage, such as a Ranger, which is basically a drum fashioned from a hollow tree trunk; a Puntong, a flute with four holes; and a Tungbuk, which might be compared to a three-stringed mandolin. Other instruments include a Blingthop, a Longthyol, a Po-patek and a Po-Pasong. The origins of the instruments are not known but, as Micma told the Mr. Paul, “they all imitate nature sounds so it is safe to believe that they were derived from it.” Fortunately, a YouTube video is available so it is easy to enjoy the band for over seven minutes.

In addition to Lepcha folk music, Sofiyum band members are inspired by hard rock, blues, and glam music. They formed in 2011 and had their first major gig at a World Music Day festival the next year held at Shillong, a small city in northeastern India. They also performed at the Ziro Festival of Music and Songs and Dances of Northeast in 2016.

Micma said that their music is appreciated by younger listeners, even though most of them don’t speak or understand spoken Lepcha, the language of the songs. He spoke to the journalist proudly of the popularity of their songs with the young people: “I can safely say that we have been able to communicate to the youth and make people aware of the importance of our roots most satisfactorily.” He can be forgiven for bragging. Their growing popularity gives the band members hope for the future preservation of their culture.

The band has had to struggle with such problems as finding good places to practice, difficulties with finances, and inadequate equipment. But they continue in their chosen ways, performing the style of music that they believe in deeply—and that their fans increasingly appreciate. Currently they are focused on producing a full-length album, so they are spending much of their time in their studio. But they fervently believe that preserving the Lepcha culture is worth it.

 

A Botswana newspaper last week revealed that the government has hatched a plan to “infiltrate and control” the San people who live in the Central Kalahari Game Reserve—the G/wi and the G//ana. According to the Sunday Standard news story, officials from both the national department of wildlife and from the Ghanzi District have formed an agency called the Memoghamogu Community Trust, which has the stated objective of allowing residents of the CKGR to utilize natural resources sustainably.

The main street of the town of Gantsi
The main street of the town of Gantsi (Photo by Bots2008 in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)

The five G/wi and G//ana settlements in the CKGR that the document designates as beneficiaries of this new agency are Metsiamanong, Mothomelo, Gope, Molapo and Gugama. It indicates that the residents of those communities will elect a board of trustees and that the trust will establish an office in the town of Gantsi. The goals are to monitor and protect the natural resources of the CKGR against any misuses and to develop good management practices that will protect their sustainability.

“The Board of Trustees shall establish and develop Resource Governance regulations as determined by the beneficiary or the grantor for any resources over which the Trust has been granted rights of utilisation,” the document says. The San people interpret the proposal as giving the trust the power to manage and control their way of life. They are strongly, heatedly, opposed to the whole thing.

San children in Botswana responding to the taste of boiled eggs
San children in Botswana responding to the taste of boiled eggs (Photo by Malcolm Macgregor in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)

Some San responded to the threat, as they perceived it, by writing a letter last June to Loeto Porati, Ghanzi District Commissioner, which denounced the establishment of the trust. They reminded the official that they had won against the government in their court suit that established their right to live in the CKGR. They also warned that if the government persists in its plan to establish the trust, they will take it to court again. They also denounced their former leader, Roy Sesana, who took a position with the government—he could no longer represent them in this dispute.

Porati replied that the government had no intention of forcing a trust down the throats of the CKGR residents if they don’t want it. The government was prepared to show the residents the value of a community trust and it would assist them financially if they would accept one, but it would not force the issue. They certainly had the right to go to court if they wished, but the government would be glad to give advice on many matters if they wanted it.

Jumanda Gakelebone, a prominent activist regarding San concerns in Botswana, said he was not aware that a trust had been established. No one had consulted him when the idea of establishing a trust was being discussed. An article in the Sunday Standard last July about the brewing controversy expressed San frustrations with the government even more clearly. The San eight months ago strongly questioned the intentions of the government’s stated plans to drill new boreholes for water in the reserve—why the change in heart?

They have drilled their own boreholes, the newspaper reported in July, no thanks to the government. A two-minute YouTube video shows the pleasure of the people of Mothomelo when they opened their new borehole in 2011. As they saw it last July, the government for decades had discriminated against the San people in the reserve. Their skepticism was understandable. Why did the government want to restore services now, they wondered?

“We would like to know how these services are different from the ones that [the] government terminated in 2002. We also want to know if this is done in good faith,” they demanded. Referring to the growing controversy about the proposed trust, they also wondered “how the trust is related to some of our rights which were reaffirmed by the High Court and Court of Appeal respectively. Are these latest developments not in contempt of court,” the San asked. Although the two newspaper articles did not say so, the flap in the CKGR reflects a severe lack of trust for the government by the G/wi and the G//ana people.