Despite all the problems suffered by the Nubians in Egypt, at least the Nubian Museum in Aswan celebrates their thousands of years of rich history and civilization. An article last week in The Arab Weekly highlights some of the treasures in the museum and the meaning of them for the Nubian people.

The entrance to the Nubian Museum in Aswan
The entrance to the Nubian Museum in Aswan (Photo by JMCC1 in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)

The museum building, located on a cliff overlooking the Nile, was opened in 1997 and it won an important architectural prize in 2001, the Aga Khan Award for Architecture. The museum has three floors, 7,000 square meters, with adjacent grounds of 50,000 more. The building was designed with narrow windows to minimize the amount of heat that could come in from outside.

The article quotes Awad Hassan, a scholar of Nubian history, as saying that the museum is important for securing in one place the artifacts of Nubia, which would either be scattered or lost without it. “The museum is the Nubians’ window into their own history,” he said. It exhibits rare works from both modern and ancient times.

A realistic display of a school in the Nubian Museum in Aswan
A realistic display of a school in the Nubian Museum in Aswan (Photo by Horus3 in Flickr, Creative Commons license)

The museum has over 5,000 artifacts in its collections, such as a solar calendar, probably the oldest in existence, which is believed to be over 13,000 years old. It also has exhibits about the modern history and culture of Nubia. The collections include statues, pottery, mummies, jewelry, and many other items. Many artifacts were recovered from ancient historic sites and temples located under the water of Lake Nasser by antiquities teams supported by UNESCO; they have suffered from water damage. The museum exhibits different types of rock-hewn burial tombs that were common in Nubia.

The museum library, on the ground floor, has a collection of ancient manuscripts from throughout Egyptian history. In the basement, restoration experts and students work to repair important ancient artifacts. Experts from around the world work in the museum to document Nubian history.

A display of a water-wheel in Old Nubia in the Aswan Museum
A display of a water-wheel in Old Nubia in the Aswan Museum (Photo by Horus3 in Flickr, Creative Commons license)

Only elderly Nubians would now remember life in the villages of Old Nubia before the closing of the Aswan Dam and the formation of Lake Nasser in 1964, but their children and grandchildren are using the museum to connect with their roots and the works of their ancestors. For instance, the display of a horizontal, donkey-powered wheel in the museum (see the image), probably a water-wheel, should connect visitors to the importance that water-wheels played in the village culture of Old Nubia. El Zein (1966) pointed out that water-wheels not only provided water to their fields above the Nile, they were also critically important as a means of maintaining cooperation, unity, and stability in the villages.

Water-wheels were complex pieces of machinery so they tended to be built by a number of families working together. The men worked cooperatively and owned the resource—the river water raised by the devices—in shares. The water-wheel economic system and the ways the shares were allocated prohibited subdivisions and disputes over the resource, El Zein argued. That forced on the community a cooperative economic system that fostered stable and equitable sharing of the land and the wealth it provided.  While the water-wheels provided irrigation, they also prevented fragmentation of the land, perpetuated a social system that tied the community together in cooperative partnerships, and helped to minimize disparities in wealth among the villagers. Fernea (1973) agreed—the peacefulness of the Nubians was based, in part at least, on an economy supported by the water-wheels. The Nubian Museum displays that heritage.

A statue in the Nubian Museum
A statue in the Nubian Museum (Photo by Terry in Flickr, Creative Commons license)

A Nubian housewife from Cairo in her early 40s, Enas Gamal, told The Arab Weekly that she was thrilled at being able to visit the museum. The reporter did not indicate if she had viewed the displays of life in Old Nubia, but all of the beautiful things she saw in the museum far exceeded what she had expected from the reports and recommendations of other visitors. What her friends had told her “were an under­statement compared to the beauty I saw inside,” she said.

 

Over a dozen Amish men are scheduled to appear in a Logan County, Kentucky, court on August 2, 2017, for ignoring a local ordinance requiring diapers on their horses.

A team of horses wearing diapers
A team of horses wearing diapers (Photo by Valerie Gaffney on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

An article last week in the News-Democrat & Leader of Russellville, the county seat of Logan County, described the refusal of some Amish to put the collection devices on their horses when they drive their buggies through the city of Auburn, Kentucky, and their obstinate refusal to pay fines imposed by the county when they violate that local law. The newspaper article said that the Swartzentruber Amish group had broken the local ordinance before—dozens of times, in fact. For instance, Amos Mast and his son Dan Mast have already spent ten days in jail for refusing to pay fines that were levied on them for their obstinacy.

The 13 Amish people facing 37 charges against them in August had just appeared in District Court with their attorney, Travis Locke. He said that he will be requesting separate trials for each of the offenses, but Joe Ross, the County Attorney, who will be the prosecutor, will argue that they should be tried together.

A portion of the main square in Auburn, Kentucky
A portion of the main square in Auburn, Kentucky (Photo by Nyttend in the Wikipedia, Creative Commons license)

Residents of Auburn have evidently been complaining about droppings from Amish horses for several years. Complaints have included concerns for such issues as the safety of pedestrians who might step on the piles in crosswalks, manure that might stick to vehicle tires, and odors produced by the horse poop. The complaints prompted the Amish to reach handshake deals with the city to clean up after their horses. But evidently they didn’t clean up effectively enough, for the City Council then passed an ordinance requiring large animals to wear the diapers.

Two Amish men, Dan Mast and Emanuel Miller, attempted to overturn the city ordinance with a federal law suit in December 2016 but they subsequently withdrew it in order to avoid more publicity. According to another news report on the upcoming trial, the Amish argue that the diapers required for their horses violate their religious beliefs. The city responds that its ordinance is intended to protect public safety.

An Amish buggy on a Kentucky city street
An Amish buggy on a Kentucky city street (Photo by frankleleon on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

The action in Logan County, Kentucky, is just the latest in a continuing series of anti-Amish ordinances in small towns and cities of the U.S. that have been reported in this website, several of which have dealt with their horse culture. A news story in September 2006 reported that the county commissioners in Wayne County, Indiana, considered an ordinance that would have prohibited Amish buggies with steel wheels from driving on county roads due to the supposed damage they cause. After an outcry from local citizens, the commissioners found a face-saving way to abandon the proposal.

Similarly, a report from August 2010 indicated that the citizens of Viroqua, Wisconsin, were complaining about horse manure on their city streets. At a meeting of the city council, a proposal to require diapers on horses was considered. Amish representatives offered to not come into the community—to take their business elsewhere since they didn’t want to cause trouble. The mayor asked that they try to clean up after their horses. Experiences in other communities that have enacted horse diaper ordinances have shown that the diapers sometimes cause the horses to spook, which is a dangerous situation.

The steel rims on an Amish buggy wheels in Ohio
The steel rims on an Amish buggy wheels in Ohio (Photo by Tara Herberger on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

An article in October 2014 indicated that the Mayor and the City Manager of Brown City, Michigan, along with other residents, had been complaining about both horse droppings and the damage supposedly caused by steel wheels to the paved streets of their town. And several reports concerned the refusal of some Amish, particularly the Swartzentrubers, to put slow-moving vehicle triangles on the backs of their buggies.

Not all of the anti-Amish issues have focused on their horses. For instance, in May 2009 a judge in Cambria County, Pennsylvania, evicted some Amish families from their homes because they had not followed local regulations concerning the proper installation of their outhouses.

A group of Amish people look out to sea at Acadia National Park on the coast of Maine
A group of Amish people look out to sea at Acadia National Park on the coast of Maine (Photo by Andrea Why on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

Of course, not all communities try to find ways to hassle or exclude the Amish. A farming community in the State of Maine was delighted to welcome Amish newcomers in 2011, and other communities have been similarly welcoming. Many people in U.S. towns are not bothered by the differences the Amish represent and they enjoy the peaceful spirit the newcomers bring to their communities, as the Mainers seem to do.

 

The territory where the Fipa live in southwestern Tanzania has been designated by the national government as an environmentally sensitive area due to human abuses of the land. Two newspapers, the Tanzania Daily News and The Citizen, both from Dar es Salaam, published reports last week on plans to begin rectifying the situation.

Rift Valley escarpment along the northern shore of Lake Rukwa
Rift Valley escarpment along the northern shore of Lake Rukwa (Photo by Lichinga in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)

The so-called Rukwa-Katavi landscape, the region between Lakes Rukwa and Tanganyika, has been the historic territory of the Fipa, though numerous other people have moved into the area. The reports last week indicated that the region is now home to over one million people.

Announcing the initiative at a meeting in Dar es Salaam last week, Mr. January Makamba, Minister of State in the Vice President’s Office with responsibility for the environment, said that the area he is concerned about is subject to a wide range of developments that have the potential to adversely affect the natural environment. His statement, presented by a deputy, pointed out that as of 2014, Tanzania had lost 61 percent of its productive area due to desertification.

Dried fish from Lake Rukwa, in the Rukwa Region
Dried fish from Lake Rukwa, in the Rukwa Region (Photo by Lichinga in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)

The initiative will be implemented in the region by four local NGOs, with the Kaengesa Environmental Conservation Society (KAESO) based in Sumbawanga taking the lead. The other groups are the Lawyers Environmental Action Team (LEAT), which will coordinate and harmonize policies with the national government; Action Aid Tanzania (AATZ), which will make sure that the plans prepared are gender responsive and inclusive; and HakiArdhi, a group that will ensure that components of any plans are reviewed by agricultural, mining, and tourism interests in the region. The overall partnership of the four organizations will be known as Shared Resources, Joint Solutions (SRJS).

Mr. Makamba had visited the region in October 2016 in order to scope out the problems. He said he has already sent directives to try to prevent any further destruction to the landscape. He emphasized that Tanzanians needed to adhere to established conservation regulations—if they fail to do so, the future would be a dire one for younger generations.

Results of overgrazing in the Rukwa plains on the southeastern side of the lake
Results of overgrazing in the Rukwa plains on the southeastern side of the lake (Photo by Lichinga in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)

The minister blamed the “colossal environmental degradation” that he witnessed in the region on the presence of very large numbers of livestock, unsustainable farming systems, and tree cutting. Mr. Ozem Chapita, the Executive Director of KAESO, said that Lake Rukwa, one of the African Great Lakes, was itself in danger of “extinction.” He pointed out that the lake had experienced massive environmental ruin that had caused several species of fish to go extinct.

The lake, according to the Daily News report, lies at an elevation of 800 meters (2,600 feet) above sea level about halfway between the much larger lakes Tanganyika and Nyasa in a parallel branch of the Rift Valley. The alkaline lake has fluctuated widely over the years in size, from 30 miles long in 1929 to 110 miles long today. It currently averages 20 miles wide and it is about 2,220 square miles in area.

The continuously changing water level left a dead forest partially submerged in the central area of Lake Rukwa
The continuously changing water level left a dead forest partially submerged in the central area of Lake Rukwa (Photo by Lichinga in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)

Mr. Godlove Mwasonjo, an official from the National Environmental Management Council (NEMC), who launched the SRJS group at the meeting in Dar, said that Mr. Makamba’s declaration of the lake as an “environmentally sensitive area” was in keeping with existing law, the Tanzanian Environmental Act of 2004. The next step will be to gazette the project so the boundaries can be officially identified and mapped.

An article in this website in May 2016 asking if farming by the Fipa can produce peace referred to reports on the incredible fertility of the soils in the region, which are resulting in increased agricultural productivity. The Rukwa Region, sources indicated, had the potential for even more farming successes. The continuing interest in Fipa agriculture for this website was an analysis by Roy Willis (1989a) which indicated that their raised bed, composting techniques of growing food had been an important factor in fostering the peacefulness of that society.

A KAESO tree plantation site near Sumbawanga
A KAESO tree plantation site near Sumbawanga (Photo by Trees ForTheFuture on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

Unfortunately, the articles about the launch of the environmental initiative last week did not mention the worthwhile approaches the Fipa traditionally took to preserving their soil and maximizing its agricultural potential. The work by KAESO and its partner organizations in the SRJS project to preserve and restore the landscape will be funded with a budget of 2.5 billion Tanzanian shillings (1.1 million U.S. dollars) with support from the International Union for the Conservation of Nature, Netherlands (IUCN, NL), the Dutch Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and the World Wildlife Fund.

 

Paul Turke, an anthropologist who did field work on Ifaluk Island in the early 1980s, has just shared a few recollections of the islanders in a Psychology Today blog post. He links the pleasures grandparents can derive from helping raise their grandchildren—as the Ifaluk do—to successful human evolution.

Lars Hässler, captain of a yacht visiting Ifaluk Island in 2012, interacting with some Ifaluk kids
Lars Hässler, captain of a yacht visiting Ifaluk Island in 2012, interacting with some Ifaluk kids

He recalls his trip to Micronesia with his wife, also an anthropologist, where she studied the political systems of the Micronesians while he investigated their child care. He published a variety of works subsequently about Ifaluk but he made a career change at age 39, went to medical school, and became a pediatrician.

He sets the scene in his essay by describing Ifaluk when he was there: a small atoll with land barely above high tide—“which makes typhoons an ever-present danger,” he writes evocatively. Roughly 450 people lived there, with about as many pigs, dogs, and chickens. While the men fished, the women worked in their taro gardens and the children played. It impressed him as an incredibly isolated place.

He recalls that the Ifaluk have a saying that “the child is king.” Except for the biting insects, it is an idyllic place to be raised, he suggests. Parents are devoted and loving, and they are assisted in their child-rearing duties by many others—grandparents, uncles, aunts, siblings, other relatives and villagers.

He calls Ifaluk a “kinship society,” one of a dwindling number of places that are quite comparable to the situations in which our ancestors lived. Children were not abandoned by parents who commuted to distant jobs, there were no single parents overwhelmed by the burdens of raising a child, and no children grew up in isolated situations. He calls Ifaluk “a snapshot” of how children used to be raised.

The thrust of his essay is to argue that the kinship networks he witnessed on Ifaluk were important for the reproductive success of the people. Surrounded by loving, caring relatives, the children were secure and happy. He maintains that humans have evolved to count on that kind of support.

But from his own personal experience—having a granddaughter living nearby—Dr. Turke has learned first-hand about the constant pleasures one can derive from caring for, and sharing love with, a child. In other words, it works both ways he has found. Both the child and the grandparent benefit. In essence, having related children nearby, having the opportunity and pleasure of playing with a grandchild, has been a path to happiness for him as well as for the kid. It is clearly a lesson that the Ifaluk are only too well aware of.

Tsewang Dorjey, a 43-year old police officer, has taken a special interest in the young children of Shara, a small community in rural Ladakh, so he founded a nursery school for them. A news story by Shreya Pareek in The Better India last week reported on the ways Officer Dorjey is developing his school.

An aerial view of Shara village in 2003 (Photo in the Aerial Photographic Archive for Archaeology in the Middle East in Flickr, Creative Commons license)
An aerial view of Shara village in 2003 (Photo in the Aerial Photographic Archive for Archaeology in the Middle East on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

Shara is located in the Leh District of Ladakh, about 30 miles southeast of the city of Leh in a remote mountain valley. According to the 2011 Census of India figures, the village had 57 households with 290 inhabitants, almost 54 percent of whom were females. There were, that year, 26 children under 6 years of age.

When the policeman, a sub-inspector with the Jammu and Kashmir police force, observed that little kids were not attending school due to the harsh climate or long distances, he decided to start a nursery school for them. He called it the Social and Educational Welfare Association (SEWA), Shara Nursery School. Its mission: to prepare children for the mainstream schools.

Officer Dorjey, a native of Shara, graduated in Jammu with a degree in science but he returned to his village to take a position as Rural Development Officer with a local NGO. After five years, he got a job with the state police force but he kept worrying about the poor facilities for children in the community. “I feel education is a very important part of one’s life and everyone should have access to it in spite of their location,” he said.

Ladakhi children (Photo by Daniela Hartmann on Flickr, Creative Commons license)
Ladakhi children (Photo by Daniela Hartmann on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

He started the school in 2007 with his own savings and decided to teach such basic subjects as English, Hindi, and mathematics. The school now employs three teachers and charges nominal fees to help cover expenses. Dorjey relies on donations from his own friends and family members but the school is suffering from a lack of resources. Mr. Dorjey has also been earning money for the school by renting out his tractor, which he used to use for farming.

Kids in the village who used to wait until they were age seven to go to school can now start attending as soon as they turn three.  Tsewang Dorjey plans to expand the school to include instruction up to the sixth standard, and he also wants to reach out to other communities in the Leh District of Ladakh with his model of early childhood education. In addition, he hopes to improve the small playground at the school. He is clearly trying to make a difference in his village.

 

On Friday May 12, at 8:00 o’clock in the evening, Freddy Menare, a prominent Piaroa leader, was assassinated in Puerto Ayacucho, the capital city of Venezuela’s Amazonas state. The as-yet unidentified gunmen shot the 48-year old man in the back while he walked along Orinoco Avenue, a busy commercial street near the indigenous market in the city. A variety of Venezuelan news sources covered the story and its ramifications last week.

The Avenida Orinoco near the indigenous market in Puerto Ayacucho (Photo by Solem Josias in the Wikipedia, Creative Commons license)
The Avenida Orinoco near the indigenous market in Puerto Ayacucho (Photo by Solem Josias in the Wikipedia, Creative Commons license)

According to one news report, he died on the floor of a business establishment called the Restaurante el Señor de los Milagros. Menare was a leader of the Piaroa in the Autana Municipality and a founder of the indigenous rights group Organización Indígena del Pueblo Uwottuja de Sipapo (OIPUS), the Piaroa People’s Organization of Sipapo. OIPUS is basically a political organization representing Piaroa in the Sipapo region of the state.

Various organizations immediately condemned the assassination. One, the WATANIBA Amazonian Socio-Environmental Working Group, said in the wording of a Google translation that Sr. Menare “was a simple, happy and committed indigenous person” who was active in defending the rights of the Piaroa people. He was in the process of demarcating the boundaries of Piaroa lands for a regional commission of the state. He also participated in human rights training programs, helped defend indigenous environmental rights, and built relationships with a Council of Elders. He was known for promoting the worldview, identity, and culture of the Piaroa.

Traditional Piaroa village culture (Screenshot from the video “Piaroa Culture: Venezuelan Amazon” by ProBiodiversa on Vimeo, Creative Commons license)
Traditional Piaroa village culture (Screenshot from the video “Piaroa Culture: Venezuelan Amazon” by ProBiodiversa on Vimeo, Creative Commons license)

The WATANIBA statement went on to list some of the problems that affect the society and traditional culture of the Piaroa. It did not directly link the assassination to any one of the criminal activities in the region that might have ordered the hit squad. But the illegal mining and smuggling that has plagued the region, prompting violence and murders, were mentioned. Again quoting a Google translation of the WATANIBA statement, the criminal violence in the state is “destroying the Amazon, its ancient cultures, forests, mountains and rivers, as well as violating the human rights of its original peoples.”

The Working Group on Indigenous Affairs (GTAI), located at the University of Los Andes in Mérida, Venezuela, also issued a forceful condemnation of the assassination. The second point in their statement emphasized that the murder occurred within the context of Piaroa condemnation of the illegal mining activities in the region. Those mining activities threaten Piaroa territory.

One of the masks worn by Piaroa dancers during their Warime festivals, when they celebrate fertility, creation, and the creator deity Wahari (Photo by Aaron Fellmeth Photography on Flickr, Creative Commons license)
One of the masks worn by Piaroa dancers during their Warime festivals when they celebrate fertility, creation, and the creator deity Wahari (Photo by Aaron Fellmeth Photography on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

According to still another release, OIPUS and an allied organization, the Organización Regional de Pueblos Indígenas de Amazonas (ORPIA), issued a joint statement. In addition to condemning the atrocity, the statement indicated that from the moment Freddy Menare came face to face with the Piaroa creator god Wahari, the authors will not rest until the guilty parties are brought to justice.

That statement reinforces the importance of their traditional myths to at least some Piaroa of today. Overing Kaplan (1984) described the importance of Wahari to the Piaroa. She wrote that in addition to creating the sky, the land, and the Piaroa, he also fought in mythic times with his father-in-law, Kuemoi, a deity who focused on darkness and death—in other words, his father-in-law had an opposite nature to his own. But the myth pointed out the dangers of inequalities in a society and it reinforced Piaroa ways of overcoming strife through making proper marriages, effectively maintaining kinships, and accepting different levels of human relationships. But neither Wahari nor the Piaroa, at least in mythic times, had to deal with rapacious outsiders carrying guns.

It is interesting to note that speculations by people in Venezuela clearly include the mining interests as prime suspects for the crime. Those suspects are people whose commitments to illegal mining may be threatened by the Piaroa leaders. A news report from two years ago explained the dangers to the Piaroa from the coltan mining activities in Piaroa territory. Whether the police services of the state will be able to bring the hit men, and the people behind them, to justice remains to be seen.

 

Inuit views of themselves as hunters have been severely hurt by the anti-sealing campaigns of animal rights groups, but clothing designers in Nunavut are helping them reclaim their heritage. An article in The Guardian last week examined the ramifications of the controversial anti-sealing bans.

Images of cute seal pups with their big dark eyes, crouched helplessly on the ice as hunters poise to bludgeon them, fueled the popular outrage at hunting them (Photo by Matthieu Godbout in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)
Images of cute seal pups with their big dark eyes, crouched helplessly on the ice as hunters poise to bludgeon them, fueled a popular outrage at hunting (Photo by Matthieu Godbout in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)

Victoria Kakuktinniq, for instance, was trained in fashion design in Canada’s southern provinces but she returned north to Nunavut to develop her line of fashionable clothing under the name Victoria’s Arctic Fashion. Her line blends the traditional with the contemporary. Her design of four sealskin winter coats has secured for her a place among a group of clothing designers and seamstresses in Nunavut who are trying to reestablish the acceptability of traditional clothing material—seal skins—in contemporary Canada. “It’s part of my culture,” the 27-year old designer said as she touted the place of sealskin in the traditional Inuit way of life.

The Guardian pointed out that hunting seals used to be essential to the Inuit. Rather than seeing the animals as cute little balls of fur looking up with appealing eyes as hunters bludgeon them on the ice, the Inuit saw them as sources of food and skins to be made into warm clothing, products that were essential for their survival as a hunting society in the far north.

A protest against seal hunting at the Canadian consulate in Minneapolis, March 2010 (Photo by Fibonacci Blue on Flickr, Creative Commons license)
A protest against seal hunting at the Canadian consulate in Minneapolis, March 2010 (Photo by Fibonacci Blue on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

But the successful anti-seal hunting campaigns of animal rights groups such as Greenpeace and PETA finally led to a ban on the import of almost all seal products by the EU and the US. Many Inuit were hurt by the bans. Inuit film maker Alethea Arnaquq-Baril said that when animal rights activists eliminated the needs of the indigenous people from the issue of protecting seals, the question of hunting seemed easy to resolve.

But the issue is not so simple, she argued. “We’re the people of the seal, we’re hunters,” she said. While the Inuit were exempt from the bans, the sudden collapse of the market still hurt them severely. “It’s not just an attack on our ability to survive, it’s an attack on who we are and our worth as people,” Arnaquq-Baril said.

Alethea Arnaquq-Baril being interviewed by the media (Photo by Cinema Politica in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)
Alethea Arnaquq-Baril being interviewed by the media (Photo by Cinema Politica in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)

Arnaquq-Baril, one of whose films was entitled “Angry Inuk,” pointed out that the prices of sealskin clothing crashed when the bans were enacted by the EU and the US. Inuit who had made a transition from a nomadic, hunting way of life into settled communities were devastated by the collapse of their economies. In some cases, the people suddenly lost 90 percent of their income.

Poverty skyrocketed in Nunavut, suicide rates soared, and about 70 percent of Inuit children went to school hungry. In contrast, according to the bitter film maker, the animal rights organizations prospered, funded by people living in comfort in the richest places on the globe. “Those are the people running the campaigns that affect us,” Arnaquq-Baril said. Greenpeace Canada has since attempted to improve their relations with the Inuit.

Sealskin fur boots (Photo by Kürschner in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)
Sealskin fur boots (Photo by Kürschner in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)

Meanwhile, the Inuit clothing designers are attempting in their own ways to rebuild their cultural heritage. Nicole Camphaug designs footwear with seal skins added to dress shoes and high heels. She sees her creations as a way of promoting Inuit culture. “I always think it’s so important to get sealskin out there,” she said. She launched her business from her own home in Iqaluit, the capital of the Nunavut territory.

Another designer, Rannva Simonsen, creates luxury fur outerwear in Iqaluit. She champions seals as legitimate sources of food and income in Arctic communities, which have few other ways of making a sustainable living. She argues that she really resents the fact that the larger European countries are crushing the smaller indigenous society. She calls it “cultural bullying” and argues that instead the European people “should learn from the Inuit’s connectedness and respect for nature.”

 

Over the past 60 years, Rural Thai villagers have changed from poor, isolated farmers to relatively prosperous suburbanites who seek jobs, conveniences, income and connections. A feature article last week in the prominent Japanese business journal Nikkei Asian Review explored the dramatic changes that anthropologist William Klausner has witnessed in his 60 years of life in Nong Khon, a village in the northeast section of the country.

A young woman in Rural Thailand takes a selfie
A young woman in Rural Thailand takes a selfie (Screen capture from the video “Thailand, My Expat life in Isaan – Looking Back, 2015 Part 1,” by Jens Chanthasook Sommer in YouTube, Creative Commons license)

Nong Khon is located in Ubon Ratchathani province about eight miles northwest of the city of Ubon Ratchathani, one of the largest cities of the Northeast Region, which is also called Isan, or sometimes Isaan. The author of the article, Denis D. Gray, included many reminiscences of the changes witnessed by Klausner plus interviews with other residences of the village comparing life in Nong Khon today with 60 years ago.

When the young Klausner first went there in the mid-1950s, the adults were all rice farmers and the children were only able to get, at most, four year of schooling. It was a very poor farming community. Today, households in the village all own motor vehicles, many people own smart phones, and most youngsters hang out in video parlors. The village now has convenience stores, pizza delivery services, and ATM machines. Most young people, many of whom have graduated from universities, work in Bangkok or other cities. Unlike their rural forbears, the villagers are quite aware of political developments in the larger world.

The cover of one of the books on rural Thailand by William Klausner
The cover of one of the books on rural Thailand by William Klausner

Klausner, who married a villager during his first period of fieldwork in the mid-1950s, stayed in the community and made a career as a writer and an expert on rural Thailand. He told the journal, “Shadows of the past still exist, but there is a new game in town. The village is morphing into a semi-urban community with all its negative and positive aspects.”

Despite the fact that the gap between the rural northeast and the prosperous capital city has narrowed somewhat, some significant sparks of antipathy still mar rural/urban relationships. People in Isan think of the Thai who live in Bangkok as pampered members of a powerful elite who run the nation. Some citizens in the metropolis consider the people of Isan to be narrow-minded, uneducated provincials; sometimes they refer to them condescendingly as “buffaloes.”

A 7-Eleven convenience store in Bangkok (Photo by Omio Asad in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)
A 7-Eleven convenience store in Bangkok (Photo by Omio Asad in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)

When Klausner first went to Nong Khon, the people seemed to him to be docile—willing to give up their personal ambitions and rights in favor of others in the community. An elementary school principal in the village, Thatsanai Chainaen, confirmed his impressions. The principal said that people used to help one another with tasks such as planting rice. People depended on one another, but they don’t any longer because they all have mechanical devices to do the work. In the old days, people cooked foods to share with others, but no longer. “You go out and buy it at a 7-Eleven,” he said.

Luang Pu Wong, an 80-year old abbot at the main temple in the community, confirmed the opinions of the school principal about village life 60 years ago. “Despite being poor, what we had was a common spirit. We were slow in progress but strong in unity,” he said. They agreed that the young people of Nong Khon no longer have a sense of participation and sharing. The villagers used to resolve their conflicts through processes of compromise, aided by the elders, but now disputes over inheritances and land issues are commonly resolved through legal confrontations.

Rural Thai rice farmers
Rural Thai rice farmers (Photo by Torikai Yukiro on Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)

Community leaders and the anthropologist, however, resisted tendencies to romanticize the past. Farming work used to be back-breaking. People suffered from poor nutrition, they endured severe illnesses, and they were afraid to go to hospitals. People had died in the hospitals so they were filled with ghosts. But life in the village 60 years ago also had its rewards. There was no mass exodus of young people away from the community. Gambling and heavy drinking were rare and limited to festivals. Thefts were almost unknown and there were no walls between neighboring houses. Farmers helped one another at their work in the fields and people sat around in the evenings gossiping or telling stories.

Today, there are six convenience stores in the village plus an open-air coffee shop that serves espresso and “Scandinavian latte” to its customers, mostly teenagers. The village senior citizens are pessimistic, however, about whether their rural culture will survive. When they are gone, the younger people will sell their properties and move somewhere else, they feel.

Luang Por Dattajivo, a prominent Thai Buddhist monk (Photo by Honey Kochphon Onshawee in the Wikipedia, Creative Commons license)
Luang Por Dattajivo, a prominent Thai Buddhist monk (Photo by Honey Kochphon Onshawee in the Wikipedia, Creative Commons license)

And Luang Pu Wong, the elderly Buddhist monk, no longer has a role as mediator, adviser, teacher and judge. His work now is confined to religious practices and to helping people make proper ethical decisions. He decried the drinking and gambling that even takes place on the grounds of the monastery. “We have descended into the pits,” he complained.

The village shaman, Somphorn Labaap, who conducts semi-annual ceremonies at the village shrine to the ancestors, was similarly pessimistic about the Rural Thai today. He felt that the happiness of the villagers is artificial and transitory—it lasts only one night. “We are no longer a big, extended, warm family,” he told the journalist.

 

Some Ohio Swartzentrubers, probably the most conservative of the Amish groups, have decided to make changes in their buggies to improve their safety on the public roads. The Akron Beacon Journal last week published an interesting report on how the Swartzentrubers (also sometimes spelled Schwartzentrubers) in three northeastern Ohio counties are trying to lessen the number of road accidents that involve them.

A rural road in Green Township, Ashland County, Ohio (Photo by Nyttend in Wikipedia, in the public domain)
A rural road in Green Township, Ashland County, Ohio (Photo by Nyttend in Wikipedia, in the public domain)

The rural areas of Ashland, Medina and Wayne counties where this group of Swartzentrubers live has been hard hit by crashes—more than 250 in the three counties since 2012. During the first three months of 2017, three people died and 17 more were injured from vehicle/buggy collisions on the roads in that part of Ohio.  Until recently, the Swartzentrubers resisted making any changes that might help prevent the spate of accidents. They have relied on 72 inches of gray reflective tapes on the backs of their buggies, as required by state law, to warn approaching motorists—the orange tapes and slow-moving vehicle triangles used by other Amish groups are too flashy for them. They also hang kerosene lanterns on the sides of their buggies in hopes that they will increase their visibility.

But three Amish men, recognizing the growing accident rate, decided to see if their group would be willing to make some modest changes. Then, they agreed to be interviewed by a Beacon Journal reporter, Amanda Garrett, and they explained to her the changes they are making.

Amish buggies in Indiana without slow-moving vehicle tapes or triangles, possibly Swartzentrubers (Photo by Cindy Cornett Seigle on Flickr, Creative Commons license)
Amish buggies in Indiana without slow-moving vehicle tapes or triangles, possibly Swartzentrubers (Photo by Cindy Cornett Seigle on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

Harvey Stutzman, one of the three men, told Ms. Garrett, “The three words that best define us are probably modesty, simplicity and plain.” He and two colleagues, Levi Hostetler and Eli Hostetler, met early in 2017 after a crash had killed still another Amish person. They showed the reporter two safety additions they had decided to add to their buggies, improvements that they hope will help avoid future accidents.

Since the majority of vehicle/buggy collisions occur in the daytime, they reasoned, one of the problems might be that the black buggies sometimes visually disappear into the black surfaces of the roads, so motorists don’t see them. The solution adopted by the group has been to fabricate 10-inch by 12-inch rectangular pieces of white plastic, outlined with reflective tape, that the Amish can then attach to the backs of their buggies. While perhaps not so noticeable as the flashy safety triangles, they felt their community would accept and use them. And the bright white rectangles should, they hope, catch the attention of drivers approaching from the rear because of their contrast to the black.

A second innovation was to make short pieces of PVC pipe that would extend the buggy axles out a few inches farther from the wheels. These extensions would be covered with bright, reflective tapes that would catch the attention of motorists as they spin on a buggy moving ahead on a highway. They should be especially noticeable during nighttime driving.

The Amish Country of eastern Ohio (Photo by Pat (Cletch) Williams on Flickr, Creative Commons license)
The Amish Country of eastern Ohio (Photo by Pat (Cletch) Williams on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

The reporter asked one of the Ashland County Commissioners, Mike Welch, about the Swartzentruber solutions. He gave his support, expressing pleasure that they are willing to compromise their beliefs a bit to lessen the accident rate. An Ohio State Highway Patrol officer, Lt. Stephanie Norman, told the Beacon Journal that the Amish themselves approached safety officials soliciting suggestions that might lessen the number of accidents on the roads of Ohio Amish Country. She expressed approval for the compromising spirit of the Amish. Requiring them to put bright lights on their buggies would violate their beliefs.

The three Swartzentruber men are also encouraging the other Amish to use larger kerosene lanterns on the sides of their buggies. They feel that the chimneys of smaller lanterns can become clouded from the smoke off the burning wicks and darken the surface of the glass, obscuring the visibility of the lights for approaching motorists. The taller lanterns do not seem to have that problem as much.

Captain Doug Hunter, Sheriff of Wayne County, said he also met with the Amish leaders. He explained that they have always complied with state laws by putting the required six feet of reflecting tape on their buggies. But the white rectangles and the PVC pipe axle extenders exceed state law, which is good, he felt.

Swartzentruber children walking along a country road (Screenshot from the video “Swartzentruber vs old order houses,” by Joseph Slabaugh on YouTube, Creative Commons license)
Swartzentruber children walking along Apple Creek Road in Wayne County, Ohio (Screenshot from the video “Swartzentruber vs old order houses,” by Joseph Slabaugh on YouTube, Creative Commons license)

Part of the motivation for the three Amish men, with whom Ms. Garrett met in April, has also been to help protect the spirits of the motorists who drive their vehicles and collide with the buggies. They are aware of the guilt such drivers would probably carry with them for the rest of their lives if they hit Amish people along a country road and killed someone. But Levi Hostetler also couldn’t help wondering why motor vehicle drivers were always in such a hurry in their cars and trucks. “It’s like they all left for work 15 minutes late,” he said. He did not really suggest a solution to that problem.

A newly-formed Hutterite colony in southern Alberta has been seeking approval of its plans to construct buildings and begin farming on lands it has purchased, but local residents are strongly opposed. Plans by the Clear Lake Colony, just north of Lethbridge, to develop its new branch colony, Summerland, and the opposition by some residents in the nearby village of Carmangay, have been publicized by the Vulcan Advocate, the newspaper serving Vulcan County where the colony is located. The contentious issue appears to be headed to court.

Two Hutterite girls with farm buildings in the background at the Milford Colony in Montana, a branch of the Milford Colony in Alberta (Photo by Roger W on Flickr, Creative Commons license)
Two Hutterite girls with farm buildings in the background at the Milford Colony in Montana, a branch of the Milford Colony in Alberta (Photo by Roger W on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

A summary of the situation does not completely explain the motivations of the ferocious opposition to the new colony. The Clear Lake Colony began buying land in order to branch off the new colony about six years ago. Colonies that have grown too large and then split in two have been a familiar occurrence on the Canadian prairies, and the northern plains states of the U.S., for the past century. Usually it is accepted as routine, though opposition occurs at times. The story about the disputed colony was first published online in the Vulcan Advocate in October 2014 with repeated reports after that as developments have occurred.

On October 3rd that year the paper reported that the Municipal Planning Commission (MPC) for the county had rejected a plan submitted by Summerland to build their new colony about 3.5 miles southwest of Carmangay, a village of about 270 people in southern Alberta just north of Lethbridge.

An appeal of that decision by the colony to the Vulcan County Regional Subdivision and Development Appeal Board (SDAB) had also been rejected. Reasons for the rejections included, as the MPC had decided that August, “the intensity and density of the development, including the resulting traffic and other nuisance implications, is deemed to be incompatible with existing adjacent land uses.” In supporting the MPC, the Board indicated that the Hutterites had not included sufficient information about their plans for the new colony.

The tour guide for an Alberta Hutterite colony shows visitors her church (Photo taken at the Pincher Creek Colony by Bruce Bonta on July 5, 2006)
The tour guide for an Alberta Hutterite colony shows visitors her church (Photo taken at the Pincher Creek Colony by Bruce Bonta on July 5, 2006)

The following May, the paper reported, the MPC once again turned down another application by the Summerland Colony for a permit to build on its land by a vote of 6 to 0.  With about 40 people attending the hearing, 10 spoke up in opposition, telling the commissioners that the proposed colony, which would consist of about half of Clear Lake or around 75 people, was too close to the established village of Carmangay. The opponents expressed several concerns, such as decreasing property values, odors from livestock operations, and noise from the colony.

Despite all of that opposition, the newspaper wrote on July 21, 2016, that the MPC had changed its mind and approved still another application by Summerland. It is hard to tell from the newspaper story what details the colony had changed in its renewed application, but the report indicated that the colony will include four multi-unit residences, a school, a church, kitchen facilities, service buildings, and the necessary water and sanitary facilities. The colony plans to farm the land. What could be more routine in southern Alberta? The commission had received 22 letters opposed to the proposed development and 15 letters in favor of it. The MPC voted 5 to 1 in favor of the application.

Hutterite colony buildings compatible with the surrounding countryside (Photo taken at the Pincher Creek Colony by Bruce Bonta on July 5, 2006)
Hutterite colony buildings compatible with the surrounding countryside (Photo taken at the Pincher Creek Colony in Alberta by Bruce Bonta on July 5, 2006)

The chair of the MPC, Derrick Annable, stated that conditions applicable to the site of the new colony are quite comparable to other colonies in the province in terms of numbers of other residences, their closeness to the proposed colony, and such. Mr. Annable added that the proposed colony is “compatible with the surrounding rural general area.” The proposed sewage lagoon would meet provincial setback requirements.

Opponents quickly appealed to the SDAB, their opposition based on the possibility that the colony might develop a confined animal feeding operation (CAFO), which would generate the well-known, and intense, smells that normally pollute the air from such operations. The appeals board scheduled a meeting for August 29, 2016. About 100 people appeared for the hearing in the county council chambers. But the hearing was recessed because one of the members had been challenged, leaving the board without its legally-required quorum. September 19 was set as the next date for a hearing.

Apartments characteristic of a Hutterite colony (Photo taken at the Pincher Creek Colony in Alberta by Bruce Bonta on July 5, 2006)
Apartments characteristic of a Hutterite colony (Photo taken at the Pincher Creek Colony in Alberta by Bruce Bonta on July 5, 2006)

At its next meeting, the SDAB accepted the popular will and reversed the MPC decision, rejecting the application of the Summerland Hutterites. Numerous people expressed concerns that the prevailing winds are from the southwest, which would carry the odors from the colony the 3.5 miles northeast over Carmangay. The board agreed with the protesters, stating that life in Carmangay would be most unpleasant with odors from a confined animal feeding operation only 3.5 miles upwind. The board also agreed with the opponents that having the 32 dwelling units constructed as apartment buildings would be “uncharacteristic of farmsteads of this size and may be better suited in an urban setting,” even though such apartments would appear to a visitor as standard accommodations in Alberta Hutterite colonies.

Not surprisingly, Summerland decided to appeal the board’s decision to the Alberta courts. The Vulcan Advocate reported in November 2016 that the county was going to have to triple its budget for legal fees for the coming year to meet the challenge, from $7,500 to $22,500. In January 2017, Justice Jo’Anne Strekaf of the Alberta Court of Appeal ruled that the Hutterites of Summerland had the right to contest the decision of the board denying their application, based on their contention that the SDAB had erred in law by considering the potential impacts of a possible future proposal—the development of a confined animal feeding operation, a permit for which had not yet been requested.

Last week a local television station, CTV News out of Lethbridge, covered the story briefly, with the news anchor leading off by stating that Alberta’s highest court had agreed to hear the Summerland colony’s appeal. The news clip does not give  its date, though the link from Google indicated the story was produced on Monday, May 1.

Hogs in an Alberta Hutterite colony in October 1922, though clearly not confined (Photo by R.B. in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)
Hogs in an Alberta Hutterite colony in October 1922 that are clearly not confined (Photo by R.B. in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)

Much of the TV report covered the history of the controversy, but it added the faces and testimonies of some of the participants. One was Kym Nichols, the Mayor of Carmangay. Ms. Nichols, filmed leaning against a pickup truck, said baldly, “the majority of residents [of Carmangay] are strongly opposed [to the new colony].” She told the reporter that opposition in the village is based on the potential for a future confined animal feeding operation, as well as on the probability of increased traffic on the roads and on the likelihood that the new colony will be spreading manure on the fields just three and a half miles upwind of town. The viewer from outside the area has to wonder if most Alberta farmers don’t spread manure from their animals on their fields. In any case, no other opponents in Carmangay were willing to make comments on camera.

But Mayor Nichols wanted to assure the southern Alberta TV audience that her community had nothing against the Hutterites themselves. She said that the village has good relationships with colonies in the area and the fire department is primarily composed of Hutterites, “and so it has nothing to do with that.” She was saying, in essence, that opposition is not related to prejudice against the Hutterites. It’s just the possibilities of new agricultural operations that concern the people, the mayor emphasized. The courts will have to decide.