Bog berry fruit Vaccinium_uliginosum
The bog berry (Vaccinium uliginosum) is one of many plants utilized by the Inuit. (Photo by David Gaya, from Wikimedia Commons, Creative Commons license)

Traditional Ecological Knowledge (TEK) held by indigenous peoples is slowly gaining recognition by scientists as an alternative way of looking at environmental processes over time. In a recent study, researchers used TEK as a means of increasing our understanding of climate change in the Arctic. In order to carry out the study, lead investigator, Alain Cuerrier, along with his collaborators, conducted ethnographic research in three Inuit communities.

The gathering of TEK from cultures like the Inuit is important since it reflects a “cumulative body of knowledge, practice, and beliefs, evolving by adaptive processes and handed down through generations by cultural transmission” (p. 379). TEK is also important since it demonstrates flexibility, problem solving, and ways of mitigating environmental changes that could be valuable to others. The Inuit were chosen for this study since they have already been faced with the growing problem of climate change. In addition, although it is not covered in this article, the Inuit worldview is closely linked to the environment and creates a heightened sensitivity to ecological processes.

800px-3001_LC_Kangiqsualujjuaq_hike
The Nunavik community of Kangiqsualujjuaq. (Photo by Nicolas M. Perrault, from Wikimedia Commons, Creative Commons license)

The three communities selected for this study were Umiujag, Kangiqsualujjuaq, and Kangiqsu, all of which are located in the Nunavik region of Quebec. The researchers interviewed 46 individuals throughout the villages and asked questions about changes to plant life, local animals, environmental factors, the landscape in general, and human issues related to climate change.

All of the communities agreed there had been noticeable changes to shrub growth and abundance, changes to mammal populations, and lower water levels. Changes to the weather and seasons were observed more often by the Kangiqsujuag and Umiujag communities, while the people of Kangiqsualujjuag perceived more changes to trees and berries. Information on local vegetation was particularly important since there has been a lack of plant related TEK from this region.

ripe cloudberry
A ripe cloudberry (Rubus chamaemorus). The Inuit were asked about their use of different berry species such as this one. (Photo from Wikimedia Commons, Creative Commons license)

In general, vegetation was changing significantly. Locals told researchers, “The shrubs are bigger everywhere around” and “they [shrubs] are taking over places where blueberries and blackberries used to grow” (p. 384). Also, trees were becoming taller and more abundant. One informant stated, “There were lots of big ones [trees] that they cut down but they are growing back again. The winter is getting smaller” (p. 384).

Changes to berry producing plants are even more significant due to their nutritional value and cultural relevance. Berries not only provide antioxidants and sugars, but the time spent collecting them promotes physical activity, playing yet another a role in Inuit health. Also, the act of harvesting berries provides a connection to the land as well as a means of transmitting intergenerational knowledge.

black bear 01_Schwarzbär
The American black bear (Ursus americanus) is a medium-sized bear native to North America. (Photo from Wikimedia Commons, Creative Commons license)

As a result of rainfall and temperature changes, some berries have become less plentiful and others no longer taste as good as they used to. However, while the productivity of some species may be down, new species are appearing and others may be increasing in abundance. In any case, as plants shift their growth and distribution in response to changing weather patterns, the Inuit will also be forced to adapt their diets and cultural practices.

Animal populations are changing as well. People in all three communities perceived black bear and moose populations as increasing. As one informant said, “The black bears go all the way to my camp now. There are more now…even the moose are coming up too” (p. 386). Canada and snow geese were also said to be increasing. But in contrast, the caribou, seal and narwhal were perceived as diminishing. “It’s been a long time that I’ve seen caribou close to the village…In the 80’s they would pass for hours,” another informant stated (p. 386). Changes in fish populations and insects occurred but were not focused on by this study.

Nunavut_tundra_
Typical tundra landscape in Nunavik. (Photo by A. Diall from Flickr. Wikimedia Commons, Creative Commons license)

One of the most pressing issues for the Inuit are changes in weather patterns that influence the landscape. First, all of the communities agreed that water levels were lower and the permafrost is thawing as well. According to one informant, “It seems like the lakes are leaking, because the permafrost is not frozen anymore.” Unfortunately, this results in the inability to travel by traditional means. Also, as ice becomes thinner, travelers are at risk of falling through the ice. An earlier article reported that fishing on thinning ice has become more dangerous as well.

inuit women eating maktaag
Women eating maktaaq, a traditional Inuit delicacy of whale skin. (Photo by Ansgar Walk, from Wikimedia Commons, Creative Commons license)

Informants also described how wind and rain patterns have changed. They have become increasingly unpredictable, which is troublesome for a culture dependent on environmental regularities. One person stated, “It’s raining less than before, but harder at a time” (p. 387). Subsequently, sea ice is breaking up and there are decreasing snow levels. The lack of snow creates yet another dilemma since igloos are not possible without it. As a result, many Inuit have been forced to use tents instead. However, despite the negative results of weather variations, the Inuit do see some positive outcomes of seasonal changes such as longer growing seasons and longer ice-free periods for boat travel and tourism.

Overall, these researchers wish to stress the urgent need for more studies on TEK. The knowledge of people such as the Inuit is an invaluable resource in understanding climate change and may aid in the development of strategies to manage or adapt to ensuing environmental changes. TEK is important both culturally and biologically and can no longer be ignored by the larger scientific community as a legitimate source of knowledge.

Cuerrier, Alain, Nicholas D. Brunet, Josè Gèrin-Lajoie, and Ashleigh Downing. 2015. The Study of Inuit Knowledge of Climate Change in Nunavik, Quebec: A Mixed Methods Approach. Human Ecology 43: 379-394.

 By Sherrie Alexander, University of Alabama at Birmingham

A most interesting new video that shows a Paliyan rain ceremony conducted by an elderly priest in a remote settlement of southwestern India has just been put up on YouTube. Entitled “Rain Invoking Ceremony (Mazhai Pongal),” the careful, scholarly presentation, almost ten minutes long, shows the Paliyan people and their priest conducting a ritual that is intended to bring rain, which the nearby agriculturalists especially need.

The Theni District of Tamil Nadu is dominated by numerous mountains
The Theni District of Tamil Nadu is dominated by mountains (Photo by Mprabaharan in the Wikimedia Commons, in the public domain)

The word “Mazhai” in the title means “rain” in Tamil, while “Pongal” suggests “a celebration by cooking rice.” The action takes place in the communities of Kadamalai Kundu and Velappar Kovil, located in the Theni District in India’s Tamil Nadu state, a mostly mountainous region. The video has no spoken text: the narration is provided by English subtitles. Most of the time we simply watch with fascination what is happening.

After the opening title and credits, the video begins with shots of the spectacular mountain scenery in the southern region of the Western Ghats. We are told that the Paliyans were, traditionally, food gathering people, but they have recently been relocated from interior forest areas to the foothills where the video is being shot. They now subsist mostly on wage labor in the agricultural sector.

The heart of the story begins with a priest emerging from his cave dwelling so he can perform, with the people, the Mazhai Pongal, the Rain Invoking Ceremony, at a sacred space nearby. We see some people following pathways into the sacred area, converging for the ceremony. The sacred space consists of a tall rectangular rock, closely surrounded by other rocks, with still other large boulders in the immediate vicinity.

Finger millet is commonly prepared into a porridge, called “Rai porridge”
Finger millet is commonly prepared in India into porridge (Photo by DaCentaur in the Wikipedia, Creative Commons license)

The people prepare a porridge of finger millet (Eleusine coracana), called “raagi koozh,” in a new earthen pot as an offering for the ancestral spirits. The food is being prepared on fires in the rocks. In fact, we see a person start a fire with a stove match. The tall, vertical stone is the chief deity, Palichiyamma, which is adorned with a new cloth and decorated for the occasion with colorful marks. The video shows women and men preparing the finger millet porridge in large clay pots that are decorated with marks similar to the ones on the chief deity.

The video shifts to the other settlement, Velappar Kovil, where similar preparations are being carried out. People lead a goat into the clearing. The stone marking the deity is also properly decorated.

Suddenly, the chief priest and a woman become possessed. A woman dressed in yellow acts wildly, writhing around, with several other women holding onto her. The priest puts a finger print spot out of some sacred ash, called vibhuti, on a man’s forehead. We continue to hear, in the background, quiet music, birds singing, and the chatter, at times, of human voices. During much of the ceremony, the people are mostly quiet. We are shown the pot of porridge, boiling hard and starting to overflow onto the stones.

The priest, still possessed, begins to whip himself with a fibrous plant called marulikkaai, and a dramatic scene follows in which he prances about among the large rocks in a big circle, whipping himself with the long switch. The ancestral spirits are beginning to communicate with the Paliyan through his intercession. He holds his hands aloft and chants; another man walks up and pours a liquid—turmeric water—over his head in order to pacify the spirits.

Mountains of the Theni District of Tamil Nadu loom over the nearby valleys
Mountains of the Theni District of Tamil Nadu loom over the nearby valleys (Photo by Mprabaharan in the Wikimedia Commons, in the public domain)

With the mountains looming in the background, the priest grabs a handful of the boiling hot porridge out of the pot with his bare hands, takes it to the deity stone, and flings some of it onto the ancestral spirits. He also smears some of it on his own body.

The subtitles tell us that the ancestral spirits are demanding the sacrifice of a goat, and we watch as the goat is prepared for the sacrifice. But as the priest is raising his axe to decapitate the animal, we are spared the gory details. The camera cuts away to a woman holding a child, who is watching the action from her lap.

We then get close up views of the priest ladling the hot porridge onto the tallest rock, the chief deity, and onto the decorations around it on the smaller stones. According to the narrative, the Paliyan believe that the ancestral spirits, which cannot take hot porridge being poured onto them, will invoke rain in order to cool themselves and the earth. The camera repeatedly cuts from the priest, who is basting the rocks and nearby objects with the hot porridge, to the small crowds of watching Paliyan around him.

As the action ends, and just before the closing credits, we are told that the surrounding agricultural peoples believe the Paliyan are ritually specialized with a supernatural ability to promote rainfall. The landowning people, known as the Thevar community in Tamil Nadu, therefore sponsor these rain-invoking ceremonies by the Paliyan.

The closing credits indicate that the concept for the video and the script were prepared by Dr. C.R. Sathyanarayanan, Deputy Director, Anthropological Survey of India, Southern Regional Centre, Mysore. Dr. Sathyanarayanan has produced an intriguing video, along with the De Four Leaf Studio in Mysore, which was responsible for the photography and editing.

Puritanical religious authorities tried to stamp out traditional Tahitian dancing in an earlier era, but according to one website devoted to the subject, ori Tahiti, Tahitian dance, is making a strong comeback. It is, as the website says, “a typical expression of the Polynesian soul.”

Screen capture of a scene of Tahitian dance from the video “Ori Tahiti Nui Solo Competition 2012 (Vaikea Vivish)”
Screen capture of a scene of Tahitian dance from the video “Ori Tahiti Nui Solo Competition 2012 (Vaikea Vivish)” (Video by Sulo Bulut on YouTube, Creative Commons license)

The website, TahitiDanceOnline.com, published a post on December 23, 2015, by someone named Tana, who wrote that dance is an extremely important expression of Tahitian society and culture. Tahitians dance for fun, for sport, for passion, for seduction, and for the simple pleasure of belonging to a group. They dance simply because they are Tahitians, Tana wrote—it is a way of expressing their sense of themselves.

Last week, French Polynesia’s major daily newspaper, La Dépêche de Tahiti, published a story about a dance program in some schools that is attempting to preserve and help revive this important Tahitian cultural symbol.

The ori Tahiti program is flourishing in the schools in the Tairapu area, the peninsula called Tahiti Iti that sticks out to the southeast of the main island. The program, started at the end of February by a dance school, has been developed in seven elementary schools located both in Taravao, a community on the isthmus connecting the peninsula to the larger part of the island, and on the rest of Tahiti Iti.

Called “‘A’ ori na mai,” the program is supported by a local association, local officials, and the Conservatoire artistique de la Polynésie française. Fourteen experts are training 184 students in the participating schools. The students are spending two hours per week in the training, which will last until June.

Tautira, on the coast of Tahiti Iti 16 km. east of Taravao
Tautira, on the coast of Tahiti Iti 16 km. east of Taravao (Photo in the Wikimedia Commons, Creative Commons license)

The newspaper quoted one of the coordinators of the program at a school in Tautira as saying that, while dancing is fun for the children, the gestures associated with the traditional Tahitian dance also have many meanings. It is important as a “part of our cultural heritage (partie de notre patrimoine culturel),” the individual said.

The other coordinator in the Tautira school indicated that dancing is an integral part of its overall educational strategies. Lavaina Teuira, teacher and facilitator for Polynesian culture and languages for the school district, told the paper, in the wording of a Google translation, “the theme of this learning, it is the culture.” She added, “Dance allows [us] to link with the language and learn vocabulary in a different way, focusing on the origin and meaning of words…”

The organizers of the program, particularly the choreographer who is running it, are seeking the support of everyone living on the peninsula, particularly the parents of the children involved. After only a month of operation so far, the program already appears to be growing successfully, at least as measured by the interest of the students, who seem motivated to learn more.

A representative of the Toerefau School in the village of Toahotu said that working with the kids is “super rewarding (super enrichissant).” A performance of Tahitian dance by the participating school students will be held on June 11 at l’Institut de la jeunesse et des sports de Polynésie française, adjacent to the high school in Taravao.

Screen capture of a scene of Tahitian dance from the video “Ho'ike 2015 Pupu Ori: Tahiti Tamure Tahitian Exhibition”
Screen capture of a scene of Tahitian dance from the video “Ho’ike 2015 Pupu Ori: Tahiti Tamure Tahitian Exhibition” (video by Jessica Sio’ualofalesina on YouTube, Creative Commons license)

Robert I. Levy, in his path-breaking book (1973) on the Tahitians and their peacefulness, commented on how the “long shadow of the Puritan position on games and amusements still falls on Piri and other rural villages (p.23-24).” He described how some traditional dances were preserved only because yearly festivals, fostered by the government, helped to keep them alive. He might be surprised to witness the renaissance of traditional dance in rural areas of the Society Islands today.

Interest in preserving traditional Polynesian cultures is not limited to Tahiti. The current issue of the new journal IK: Other Ways of Knowing (vol. 1, no.2) features two articles on other Polynesian societies and the importance of dance and music to them: Sarah Watts, “Hula as a Way of Knowing,” p.123-131, and Ann C. Clements, “Maori Waiata (Music): Re-Writing and Re-righting the Indigenous Experience,” p.132-149. The issue is freely available on the Internet.

 

One of the most fascinating recent news stories from Africa has been the remarkable reversal by the Botswana government, which has stopped persecuting the San and started promoting tourism for them instead.

Roy Sesana (left) and Ian Khama
Roy Sesana (left) and Ian Khama (Photo of Sesana in the Wikipedia at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roy_Sesana#/media/File:2005_-_Roy_Sesana_Kalahari_1.jpg and of Khama in the Wikimedia at https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Ian_Khama.jpg, both with Creative Commons licenses)

When the news of this change surfaced a couple months ago, it was clear that many of the San people themselves were dismayed by what had happened. The change in government policy had apparently been reached by Roy Sesana, a long-time leader of the G/wi and the G//ana people, and Ian Khama, the President of Botswana. The San had been forcibly expelled from their homes in the Central Kalahari Game Reserve (CKGR) decades ago, and Sesana has led the struggle for regaining their rights. As part of the deal, however, Sesana had accepted a position with the government. But had he betrayed them? Had he sold out in order to secure a job for himself? What was to be expected of the San in their new roles as objects of tourism?

News stories over the intervening weeks have begun to shed some light on the questions that observers were asking in mid-February. A report published in early March pointed out that the anger against Sesana has not abated. Since he has taken a job with the government, many San are questioning how he could still truly represent them as a leader of their efforts to regain their rights to their lands in the CKGR.

Jumanda Gakelebone, who used to act as spokesperson for Sesana, has clearly broken with his former mentor over the issue. He and other San people were planning to meet to decide if Sesana should continue as their leader. Many San have told Gakelebone that when Sesana took the position in the government, offered to him by President Khama, he ceased to represent them.

A San boy near Ghanzi
A San boy near Ghanzi (Photo by Petr Kosina on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

The news report indicated that the San have prepared a list of demands occasioned by the controversy. First, they demand that the government must explain to them why it has suddenly decided to restore services such as community water supplies that it had terminated years before.

Secondly, the San want to draft a written agreement with government agents that the government will then sign. They feel that such an agreement will be a legal document that the government will not be able to back out of later. It is not clear yet if Gakelebone has directly confronted Sesana, or if the San of the CKGR have met to declare a new set of leaders.

A more recent news report describes the reactions of the San to plans by the government to develop photographic tourism in the CKGR—to make the G/wi and the G//ana people living there into objects for the tourists’ cameras. As with everything related to the San people, the government of Botswana discusses ideas and comes to decisions without consulting the people involved.

San near Ghanzi gather around a fire and prepare to cook some meat
San near Ghanzi gather around a fire and prepare to cook some meat (Photo by Petr Kosina on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

The reporter, Mpho Keleboge, quoted Bashi Thite, Councilor of Ghanzi Township East, just to the west of the CKGR, who complained that he, like everyone else, is aware of stories in the media but despite being on the local council has not had access to any real information. While the people appreciate the idea of having water services restored to them, they are suspicious of the plans of the Minister of Wildlife and Tourism, Tshekedi Khama (brother of the president), to promote photographic tourism.

Mr. Thite is not only miffed that he and others have not been consulted, he doubts that photographic tourism is a good fit for the San people. “We think Cultural tourism is better than Photographic because we have talents and we can showcase our culture to tourists,’’ he said. In essence, the San feel they would do better as tour guides and in other similar fields than simply posing as the subjects of tourists’ cameras.

Thite offers several positive suggestions for the government to consider. He argues that it should train them as tour guides. Photo tourism is not likely to succeed since there are few animals that tourists would want to take pictures of, except for some in the northern part of the CKGR.

He further suggests that the government should consider setting up a Cultural Village, where tourists could come and visit with the San people and be exposed to their poetry, dance, and music—where they could learn about the daily lives of the San and their cultures. Taking photos is clearly only a part of this broader conception of cultural tourism. The reporter quoted Mr. Gakelebone as saying more or less the same things—he opposes tourism that focuses on photography of the people only, and he supports the San providing cultural experiences for tourists.

The Living Museum of the Ju/’hoansi San provides visitors with a view into the lives of the people
The Living Museum of the Ju/’hoansi San provides visitors with a view into the lives of the people (Photo on the website of EXARC, Creative Commons license)

Another San society, the Ju/’hoansi, have already begun working on a similar venture. According to a news report a month ago, the Living Museum of the Ju/’hoansi San has already been established near Tsumkwe, in northern Namibia. It has its own website, which indicates that it operates very similarly to the cultural village that Mr. Thite has proposed.

Cultural tourism has been spreading to other peaceful societies outside of southern Africa as well. A news report a couple weeks ago featured the influx of tourists to a Batek community in Malaysia, and a story six months earlier described how the Batek in another village were being trained as guides for tourists.

The tag “Tourists” in this website provides links to many reports about the creative ways people in minority societies around the world are adapting to, coping with, and in some cases benefiting from tourism. We can only hope that the government of Botswana will become familiar with the many possible ways of helping its minority citizens to protect themselves and to achieve their visions of their own futures.

Can the Theravadan Buddhist approach to wisdom co-exist alongside the modern, imported knowledge of the Kingdom of Thailand? That is the question asked by author Zane Ma Rhea as she takes a closer look at traditional concepts of knowledge and wisdom in the face of an increasingly globalized Thailand.

Seated_Buddha_figure_Sukhothai_Thialand
Seated Buddha figure in Sukhothai Historical Park, Thailand. (Photo by Ahoerstemeier from Wikipedia, Creative Commons Liscense)

To start, Ma Rhea explains some of the nuances of knowledge and wisdom according to Buddhism and Thai culture. There are multitudes of folk tales explaining Thai wisdom, and more importantly, these tales derive from phumpanjaachawbaan (indigenous Thai rural wisdom) combined with panjaathaangtham (Buddhist higher wisdom). And as Ma Rhea describes, there is newer concept called panjaathaangloog (worldly wisdom). The author further clarifies the relationship between these concepts and points out the two primary forms of wisdom. The first, Buddhist higher wisdom, is a pathway to enlightenment based on the understanding of Buddhist teachings. In contrast, worldly wisdom is the path to becoming a wise person, including local knowledge that has proven useful to the larger group.

Young_Thai_Buddhist_monks
Young Thai Buddhist monks. (Photo from Wikipedia, Creative Commons)

However, knowledge, which is different from wisdom but works in conjunction with it, is in need of defining as well. Like wisdom, knowledge comes in multiple forms. There is khwaamruudiikhàa (transcendental knowledge), which supports Buddhist higher wisdom. Then, there is khwaamruusàmăimài (modern knowledge), which supports worldly wisdom. Still yet, modern knowledge is made up from the constantly changing khwaamruuthaangsangkhom (local knowledge) and khwaamruutjaagpaajnoog (outsider knowledge). Of these, Ma Rhea points out the interesting link between outside knowledge and local knowledge since they lead to modern knowledge, and ultimately to worldly wisdom. In other words, change is to be expected and may emerge from difference sources.

Ma Rhea also takes a look at Buddhist higher wisdom and the path to enlightenment. The transcendental knowledge that leads to enlightenment is actually achieved through, and made up from, three types of knowledge collectively called the siinsamaadipanjaa (knowledge of morality, concentration, and insight understanding). However, the siinsamaadipanjaa has shifted somewhat into a moral behavior and the need to live a good life rather than forming the foundation of transcendental knowledge.

The City Pillar Shrine, Udon Thani, Thailand
The City Pillar Shrine, Udon Thani, Thailand. (Photo from Wikipedia, Creative Commons)

As opposed to the path to enlightenment, Ma Rhea found that the path to a wise life might be achieved through worldly wisdom. Not surprisingly, traditional Thais see this worldly wisdom as comprised heavily of rural wisdom. But putting all this into modern context, the value of rural wisdom, which was once relied upon for accumulated knowledge, is now less valued since the older generation has less experience in the modern world and the relevance of their knowledge questioned.

Outside knowledge acquired from universities and overseas studies has always been valued for its potential to bring information back home to assist in building a stronger economy and bracing for global change. Although some people saw outside knowledge as potentially harmful, it was still considered important for its role in building a more resilient country. In the end, worldly wisdom holds a place of importance, with or without rural influences.

Thai_Buddhist_children_sitting_and_concentrating
Thai Buddhist children sitting and concentrating. (Photo from Wikipedia, Creative Commons)

Many of the changes Ma Rhea describes came out of the secularization of education. However, there were also expectations that a distinct ‘Thai’ culture would remain despite this. In many ways this goal is actually being achieved since Thais are not merely ‘reproducing’ overseas knowledge, but are often adapting it to local conditions and Thai worldviews.

Ma Rhea also learned that modernization is still seen as a useful means of tying Thai knowledge and wisdom to a ‘globally interconnected world.’ Helping to ease this transition is the Thai understanding that modernization does not conflict with modern wisdom so long as it is balanced. This is possible since, for Thais, there is no distinction between the brain and the heart as in Western thought. As a result, neither Buddhist higher wisdom nor worldly wisdom can happen when only the brain is trained. It is this aspect of Thai culture that, more than any other, assures the balance of the modern and global with that of the traditional and local. Schools and universities are even attempting to impart Buddhist higher wisdom into their studies by having students do voluntary work in local villages as well as participate in religious extracurricular activities in addition to their secular studies.

Bangkok_skytrain_sunset
The BTS Skytrain passes through the business district of Sathon, Bangkok. (Photo from Wikipedia, Creative Commons)

All told, it is the emergence of modern knowledge, both local and imported, that has allowed the social and cultural transformations currently seen in Thailand. Yet, there are still challenges in balancing rural wisdom with modern concepts of knowledge. As one informant put it, the hardest part of these changes is to “hear the wisdom of the ancestors” after having an overseas education (p. 647). But as Ma Rhea suggests, there is still time to balance the old and the new as Thais of all ages and backgrounds carefully navigate traditional pathways in a globalized world.

Ma Rhea, Zane. 2013. Buddhist Wisdom and Modernization: Finding the Balance in Globalized Thailand. Globalizations, 10: 635-65.

By Sherrie Alexander, University of Alabama at Birmingham

Early Sunday morning last week, a black pickup truck paused in front of an Amish farmhouse in central Ohio and an occupant fired a single shot through the dwelling from a high-powered firearm. The vehicle drove another quarter mile, paused in front of another Amish home and the occupant fired again, another single shot, through that house.

Amish farmhouse in rural Ohio
Amish farmhouse in rural Ohio (Photo by Ruth Rainey on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

The attacks took place along Codding Road, in southwestern Marion County near the Hardin County line, between 1:30 and 1:45 AM on Sunday morning, March 20. Since the Amish residents didn’t have access to telephones, the crimes were not reported to the authorities until late Monday afternoon, according to a news report in The Marion Star. Sheriff Tim Bailey of Marion County said that both houses were occupied by Amish families; fortunately, no one was hurt in either attack.

The sheriff had little additional information to release. He indicated that the shootings were definitely intentional acts, but he could not tell the caliber or what type of firearm was used. He has no idea of the reasoning, if any, behind the acts. He does not know if the shooter or shooters had been drinking, or if the shots were attempted murder. Mr. Bailey said that there have been no other incidents that targeted the Amish in that county, “so I’m not prepared to say that it was a hate crime.”

History of the AmishThe reporter for The Marion Star, Spenser Hickey, did some additional investigating and filed a follow-up story on Wednesday with more information about hate crimes against the Amish. Hickey interviewed Steven Nolt, a professor at Goshen College in Indiana, who has been the author or coauthor of numerous books, including, most recently, the third edition of his A History of the Amish (February 2016).

Prof. Nolt told the journalist that he is familiar with the Amish in that part of Ohio. He did some fieldwork with the Kenton Amish community, which is located immediately to the west in Hardin County, and he assumes that the Codding Road Amish in Marion County are part of that group.

Nolt said that the Amish in Hardin County are more conservative than many other Old Order settlements, avoiding technology more than most. They prefer to live a more traditional lifestyle than a lot of Amish. The two previous hate crimes against the Amish that came immediately to mind were the Nickel Mines shooting in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, in October 2006 and the beard and hair cutting incidents in Ohio instigated by Sam Mullet and his associates in October 2011.

An Amish farm in Hardin County, Ohio
An Amish farm in Hardin County, Ohio (Photo by Ken Colwell on Flicker, Creative Commons license)

Other than those two incidents, Nolt was not aware of hate crimes committed against the Amish from outside their communities. Furthermore, U.S. Federal Bureau of Investigation statistics for hate crimes in 2014 that were attributed to religious reasons did not include any crimes that specifically targeted the Amish, though 107 incidents reportedly were motivated by other religious issues.

Though not labeled as “hate crimes,” other nasty attacks on the Amish have appeared in news reports over the years. For instance, in July 2011 vandals attacked some Amish homes in Steuben County New York a series of times. According to a news report at that time, the vandals also attacked the homes of non-Amish people in the county, so the local sheriff would not label them as “hate crimes.”

Another crime committed against the Amish occurred in November 2013 when a man drove past a family riding home in their horse-drawn buggy in Lancaster County. For unknown reasons, the driver of the motor vehicle shot and killed the horse. Not a “hate crime” as defined by U.S. law, but an act of hate nonetheless. Perhaps these incidents should be categorized as “hate (the Amish) crimes.”

 

Last week, V. K. Geetha, a very active Kadar woman leader, wrote an eloquent appeal for saving their forest from a hydropower dam. Instead of focusing on the potential destruction of two Kadar communities posed by the threatened Athirappilly Dam, as numerous past news reports have done, her letter was a paean of praise for the forest in which they live. The document explained the reasons for a protest meeting on March 13th.

Ms. Geetha before a crowd showing friendship for a forest tree, March 13, 2016
Ms. Geetha before a crowd showing friendship for a forest tree, March 13, 2016 (Photo on Countercurrents.org, which permits fair use of un-copyrighted materials on the website)

Her open letter was published in Countercurrents.org, a website based in Kerala that is dedicated to preserving the earth and all life on it by replacing the energy-intensive lifestyles of much of humanity with low-energy, sustainable economies. Giving her letter the title “Dear Sisters, They Are Killing Our Trees,” Ms. Geetha refers back to earlier fights against the dam but she quickly focuses on the threat to the trees in the area to be submerged. The government of the state of Kerala has asked the Forest Department to begin marking and assessing the trees for cutting.

She writes that the Kadar in all nine settlements in the Vazhachal Athirapilly Forest Division understand that the trees are part of a larger rainforest ecosystem. She writes effectively about their deep understanding of the value of the trees in a forest: “We value them for the coolness we feel as we walk for hours in search of food, fuel and fodder. We know and sense trees through their continuous life process by which water is rejuvenated in the ground and flows out as streams and rivers.” This is clearly a person who was raised in a forest.

A Malabar giant squirrel in the forest of the Pathanamthitta District of Kerala, south of Vazhachal
A Malabar giant squirrel in the forest of the Pathanamthitta District of Kerala, south of Vazhachal (Photo by Arunguy2002 in the Wikipedia, Creative Commons license)

Ms. Geetha says that many creatures other than humans also depend on healthy forests, such as Malabar giant squirrels, liontailed monkeys, and other mammals. She appreciates every drop of water in the forest, which flows down the river to nourish communities below.

In the forest, she senses “the strength and generosity of trees in the honey filled flowers and the honey combs that bees make that earn us our livelihood.” The Kadar, in her view, appreciate the fish, the forest floor humus derived from leaves, and the other lifeforms in the woods. Ms. Geetha expresses Kadar appreciation for the food and fuel they take from the land.

But her expression of appreciation is subtle. She understands that dying and dead trees are necessary for some of the life forms in the forest, such as the hornbills and woodpeckers, which use them for their nests. She realizes that the root systems of trees hold the thin forest soils from eroding away. She appreciates being able to dig up roots and tubers from the forest floor.

Bamboo friendship bands attached to trees in the Vazhachal Athirapilly Forest, March 13, 2016
Bamboo friendship bands attached to trees in the Vazhachal Athirapilly Forest, March 13, 2016 (Photo on Countercurrents.org, which permits fair use of un-copyrighted materials on the website)

She makes it clear that the reason she and hundreds of other supporters of the Kerala forest got together on March 13 was to preserve life along the river and in the riverine forest ecosystem. As part of their celebration of the forest that day, the participants tied what she called “bamboo friendship bands” around 150 of the trees.

Kadar young people and children have been preparing for the event for weeks by painting the bands and writing messages on them. With this form of peaceful protest, the Kadar and their supporters “are declaring to the world the inalienable right we have over the forests, the trees, rivers and animals that we share our home with.” They also wanted to proclaim, through this protest, that they are indignant at not having been consulted by the government when it formulated plans for the dam—and the destruction of the forest.

A moving pledge by protesters to preserve the forest
A moving pledge by protesters to preserve the forest (Photo on Countercurrents.org, which permits fair use of un-copyrighted materials on the website)

The protesters took what Ms. Geetha calls a “moving pledge” to preserve the forest from destruction. The Kadar want to go on living in the forest which gives them life next to the Chalakkudy River. She invites supporters to come to their area of Kerala, not just as casual tourists but as fellow human beings “concerned about pure water, air, soil and [the] right to life.”

Ms. Geetha has been a leader of the Kadar protests against the proposed dam for years. Her letter last week has a link back to a similar open letter she posted on July 20, 2015, also on Countercurrents.org. In both letters, she makes it clear that she is the head woman of the Kadar in the settlement most closely affected by the dam. Last year she made similar arguments that she made last week: for instance, “for us the [Chalakkudy] River is Life in all senses of the word—it is not just a few megawatts of electricity.”

An important point she made near the end of her letter of July 20 was the email address of the chairman of an Expert Appraisal Committee for River Valley and Hydroelectric Projects. While that review process may be over by now, she also provided at the end of that letter the email address of a critical member of the group opposing the dam, Ms. Latha Anantha.

Ms. Geetha at the river that she is trying to protect
Ms. Geetha at the river that she is trying to protect (Photo by Parineeta Dandekar on SANDRP website, Creative Commons license)

A history of opposition to the dam and the group of women leaders, including Ms. Anantha and Ms. Geetha, appeared on December 1, 2014, in a blog post on the website of the South Asia Network on Dams, Rivers and People (SANDRP). (The blog post spelled Ms. Geetha’s name “Geeta.”)

Other news stories covering the controversy about the dam have also provided information about Ms. Geetha. For instance, one in 2011 indicated that she testified at a hearing and said that the proposed dam site is about 400 meters from the two Kadar settlements. If it were to be built, more than 90 Kadar families would be forced to resettle out of their forest homes. She concluded, for the benefit of the committee members, “our livelihood is solely dependent on the forest and the river.”

The ancient forest in Malaysia’s Taman Negara National Park has long been an international tourist attraction, but lately some Batek families in the park have also been attracting visitors. A journalist writing for the Malaysian national news agency Bernama, Kisho Kumari Sucedaram, wrote an article last week about a press tour on February 23 that included the Batek village.

The Batek at Kampung Dedari are wary of visitors
The Batek at Kampung Dedari are wary of visitors (All five of these photos were taken by Cleffairy and posted on a blog called “Over a Cuppa Tea;” the blog post, dated January 18, 2016, has a Creative Commons license)

The author wrote that as soon as the tour group arrived at Kampung Dedari, which is the largest Batek settlement in the park, the women and children shyly disappeared into their huts, but the headman, Sena, spoke with the visitors. The news report indicated that about 1,000 Batek live in the park, some still moving about nomadically while others have settled into more permanent communities, such as Kampung Dedari. The Batek in that settlement are reached by boat from Kuala Tahan, a town to the south, outside the park boundary.

Coincidentally, a Malaysian blogger and novelist named Cleffairy visited the park and the same Batek village in January 2016. She published a piece in her blog that included 22 good photographs of the people and their village. Both accounts said virtually the same things—the Batek appear to emphasize similar points for their visitors. Fortunately, the blog has a Creative Commons license, so the story of the village can be retold based on the Bernama news report plus five of Cleffairy’s photos.

While the Batek men hunt, the women stay home and care for the children.
While the Batek men hunt, the women stay home and care for the children.

The Batek living in the park depend for food on small forest animals such as monkeys and squirrels, which are hunted with blowpipes, and such vegetables as yams and fruits. Their daily foods include shoots and herbs such as umbut and bayas, plus tubers such as ubi takup and ubi keluna.

Sena said that they retain their traditional religious beliefs in the spirits of the forest and the rivers, which they venerate. They also believe in using two stoves in their homes, one for cooking the animals hunted from the forest and the other for cooking meat purchased in stores. “It’s our belief that we would be struck by heavy rain and thunderstorm[s] if we use[d] the same stove to cook both kinds of meat,” he told the media people.

Batek children at Kampung Dedari stay at home rather than go to school.
Batek children at Kampung Dedari stay at home rather than go to school.

Sena told the tour group that none of the children attend school—they grow up learning from their parents how to fish, hunt, and gather fruits. According to the author, he said 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.”

He said that when the people go out by boat to the nearest town to buy food or supplies, they are frequently cheated by the merchants, who will refuse to return change for a purchase they have made.

A Batek man demonstrates for visitors how he starts a fire.
A Batek man demonstrates for visitors how he starts a fire.

He did tell the journalists that tourists started visiting the village a couple years ago, which has provided the opportunity for the Batek to earn money by demonstrating such traditional skills as using a blowpipe or starting fires without matches. The women make necklaces and bangles out of bamboo and rattan to sell to the tourists. The community uses the money to buy meat and rice, and for welfare in the village.

Dam, a 43-year old man living in the same settlement, told the group about their marriage practices. He said that in order to become married, a man needs to have demonstrated his ability as a hunter. Each time he successfully kills an animal, his blowpipe is marked with a line. A young man with a well-carved blowpipe is clearly ready to be married.

A house in Kampung Dedari, surrounded by the forest of Taman Negara National Park.
A house in Kampung Dedari, surrounded by the forest of Taman Negara National Park.

Normally a couple spends a night together in a house before being married. If either of the partners is gone before dawn, the marriage ceremony will be cancelled. Dam added that this practice confirms their love for one another; after they are married, the Batek are quite loyal to their partners. They will not remarry if their spouses die, he said.

The authors of a recent journal article found that what they call the “folk ornithological taxonomies” in two Zapotec mountain villages of Oaxaca demonstrate that the people in both communities are intimately familiar with their local birdlife. The three authors, G. Alcantara-Salinas, E.S. Hunn, and J. E. Rivera-Hernandez, catalog the birds they have seen and examine the ways the local people view them. Then, they provide a fascinating discussion of the ways their knowledge of birds relate to their ethic of protecting their natural heritage.

A montane cloud forest in the Sierra Juárez of Oaxaca
A montane cloud forest in the Sierra Juárez of Oaxaca (Photo by Chris Ford on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

San Miguel Tiltepec, one of the communities, is within the municipality of Ixtlán de Juárez. It has a population of 417 people, of whom 77 percent speak Zapotec. Near the homes are fruit orchards, fields of maize and beans, household gardens where they cultivate beans, squash, maize, and culinary herbs, and patches of forest lands where the villagers gather medicinal plants and firewood. The people also collect wild mushrooms, wild plants, and do some hunting. The lands of the community are spread over a diversity of habitats, including subtropical evergreen forests and montane cloud forests.

About 160 km. (100 miles) west of San Miguel across a couple mountain ranges is San Juan Mixtepec in the district of Miahuatlán. It has a population of 711, of which 94 percent speak Zapotec as their first language. Gardens provide similar vegetables as in San Miguel, though the people of San Juan supplement their gardening by raising domestic chickens and small livestock. The people of San Juan jealously guard their forests, permitting only limited logging under contracts, some hunting, and gathering of medicinal herbs.

The authors emphasize that Oaxaca ranks first in Mexico in terms of its avian diversity, with 736 confirmed species of birds, nearly as many as the rest of North America north of Mexico. While the two Zapotec communities host widely differing species due to their different ecological zones, together they offer critical habitats for numerous endangered, threatened, and endemic species.

Two yellow-headed Amazons (Amazona oratrix) photographed in Mexico
Two yellow-headed Amazons (Amazona oratrix) photographed in Mexico (Image by Kurt Bauschardt on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

For instance, Alcantara-Salinas et al. observed the endangered yellow-headed Amazon (Amazona oratrix) plus two other birds that are considered to be threatened—the military macaw (Ara militaris) and the dwarf jay (Cyanolyca nana). They based their research on several years of observing birds in the two communities at all seasons of the year. They had the approval of community leaders in both towns. Most of their observations of birds were either made visually, with the aid of binoculars, or through vocalizations. They also used mist nets, took photographs, and recorded bird sounds.

As much as possible, they correlated the local Zapotec names for birds with their own visual and vocal observations. They admit that it was not always possible to establish unambiguous correlations between the scientific genus and species and the names provided by their Zapotec informants, but they argue that such complications were to be expected.

In any case, their intent was to combine the methods of biology, ethnobiology, and anthropology in their study. They did their participant observations with the Zapotec people as they herded their goats, worked in their fields, or searched for medicinal herbs in their forests. They interviewed local people to ascertain their knowledge of, and attitudes toward, the local birds, with a special focus on how the community managed its natural resources.

A king vulture (Sarcoramphus papa) in a tree in Venezuela
A king vulture (Sarcoramphus papa) in a tree in Venezuela (Photo by barloventomagico on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

In both communities, people were aware of the important roles that birds play in their ecosystems. For instance, the people of San Miguel recognized that the king vulture (Sarcoramphus papa) is the first animal to locate a dead carcass. The Zapotec feel that, by eating out the eyes and the tongue of the carcass, the big bird “blesses” the deceased while at the same time alerting other carrion eaters in the area. The San Miguel people believe that the vultures play an important role in keeping the forest clean.

The Zapotec in the two communities frequently think of birds as being like humans—intelligent, sensitive to their environments, and willful. In both communities, people think that the Mexican whip-poor-wills (Caprimulgus arizonae) represent omens of bad luck, as are some of the owls. They foretell illness or death if they are near a house.

Also, circling raptors such as sharp-shinned hawks (Accipiter striatus), zone-tailed hawks (Buteo albonotatus) and red-tailed hawks (Buteo jamaicensis) foretell bad luck. However, a solitary eagle (Buteogallus solitaries), a white hawk (Pseudastur albicollis) or a black hawk-eagle (Sprizaetus tyrannus), when suddenly encountered in the forest, presages good fortune.

A house wren (Troglodytes aedon) photographed in Pennsylvania
A house wren (Troglodytes aedon) photographed in Pennsylvania (Image by Kelly Colgan Azar on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

People in San Juan fear canyon wrens (Catherpes mexicanus) because they often nest in abandoned houses, so they are associated with death. But in contrast, in San Miguel, people value the house wrens (Troglodytes aedon) as “housekeepers” because they clean irritating insects out of homes. However, the people think that house wrens may also steal bits of tortillas as their rewards, a form of symbiotic relationship.

The Zapotec in these communities think that swallows and swifts may predict the onset of the rainy season, or the quality of imminent rainfall. In San Miguel, people believe that quails and guans may predict the beginning of weather changes. If those birds are seen on a sunny day, the weather will change to rain.

The people use only a few of the birds for practical purposes: toucans for birth problems and hummingbirds as a cure for fright. The shinbones and the femurs of curassows (Crax rubra), chachalacas (Ortalis vetula), and of crested guans (Penelope purpurascens) are used for shelling maize. Tail and wing feathers of those birds may be used to fan fires in the kitchens. In San Miguel, the heads of toucans (Ramphastos sulphuratus) and curassows are used as decorations on the costumes of dancers, or on the doors of houses to suggest social status.

A great horned owl (Bubo virginianus), the picture of intelligence taken in Wyoming
A great horned owl (Bubo virginianus), the picture of intelligence taken in Wyoming (Photo by Tom Koerner/USFWS on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

The Zapotec think of birds as more than just objects. They consider many to be intelligent, especially great horned owls (Bubo virginianus), which they believe are exceptionally smart. They attribute not only smart behaviors but even wisdom to some birds and animals. The Zapotec also attribute human characteristics such as friendship, virtue, and mutual assistance to some, and birds such as cuckoos, roadrunners, and raptors may have magical powers over people.

Alcantara-Salinas et al. suspect that the Zapotec in these two communities do not make a special effort to conserve biodiversity. Rather, they argue, the people “are motivated to protect their homeland for future generations (p.745).” Membership in the community is arguably a birthright that includes rights to basic subsistence needs—in fact, it is the basis of their Zapotec identity.

A Zapotec lady carrying her turkey in Tlacolula, Oaxaca
A Zapotec lady carrying her turkey in Tlacolula, Oaxaca (Photo by Elí García-Padilla on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

The authors maintain that commitment to the local community is a powerful, distinctive force in the people’s thinking, one that is characteristic of the indigenous communities in the rest of Oaxaca as well. Preserving the local heritage—which includes the avian life—and transmitting the cultural values of preservation are thus essential aspects of what it means to be a Zapotec.

Alcantara-Salinas et al. disagree with assessments by some scientists that the best way to preserve biodiversity is to establish protected areas without resident humans. They argue that Zapotec community leaders take strong measures to protect their natural heritage, such as refusing to renew logging concessions. The authors write, “these Zapotec communities are governed not in the interest of profitability but rather, and more profoundly, by a commitment to comunalidad that inspires a ‘moral economy’ of sustainability through collective environmental stewardship (p.746).”

The two communities they studied have preserved avian biodiversity for hundreds if not thousands of years, demonstrating that removing local people in order to establish walled-off conservation reserves may not be the best way to protect wildlife and biodiversity. The Zapotec mountain people do not live off the land, they live with the land.

Alcantara-Salinas, G.; Hunn, E. S.; Rivera-Hernandez, J. E. 2015. “Avian Biodiversity in Two Zapotec Communities in Oaxaca: The Role of Community-Based Conservation in San Miguel Tiltepec and San Juan Mixtepec, Mexico.” Human Ecology 43(5), October: 735-748

Over the past several weeks, two news reports about the Malapandaram have appeared in a major Indian newspaper, which is notable since that peaceful society gets less news coverage than any of the other 24 covered by this website.

Sabarimala7A news report published on March 4 in The Hindu was the more informative of the two. It indicated that the District Collector of the Pathanamthitta District of Kerala, Mr. S. Harikishore, had alerted doctors to an outbreak of a virus that has affected the Malapandaram communities near Sabarimala. Mr. Harikishore was responsible in the summer of 2015 for finding a way to keep the tribal school at Attathode open despite financial problems, according to news coverage last year.

As a result of his recent intervention, the Health Department has provided what the newspaper referred to as “free medical camps” for the inhabitants of Chalakkayam, Milackal, the tribal school at Attathode, and other Malapandaram communities in the Sabarimala region.

Gracy Ithaq, Medical Officer for the district, told the paper that the medical teams had set up makeshift sheds in the Malapandaram communities in order to treat the victims of the fevers. Health officials were alerted to the problem by news reports a few days before. A doctor named Sini treated 12 children who were suffering from the fever and two others who had diarrhea. At the government Tribal School at Attathode, the doctor found one more child with a fever and another with tonsillitis. All were treated with appropriate medications.

The forest of the Pathanamthitta District near Chalakkayam
The forest of the Pathanamthitta District near Chalakkayam (Photo by rajaraman sundaram on Panoramio, Creative Commons license)

The paper went on to describe, in a condemnatory fashion, the lifestyle of the families in the Malapandaram settlements. Apparently, 25 families live in deplorable conditions, the reporter wrote, in makeshift sheds constructed of tree branches and plastic sheets. They have to contend with a lack of water and food, and many of the natural streams in the nearby forests have already dried up from the oncoming heat of summer. In fact, the people have to walk a long ways into the forests of the district in order to find sources of water at all.

The Malapandaram also told the reporter that they have not been receiving food supplies from the Tribal Development Department for the past few weeks. However, sources in that department denied the allegation. They said that rice and other provisions had been given to tribal people in Sabarimala just two days before.

Another news report dated March 2, also in The Hindu, appears to have been the source of the alarming news about the illnesses that have stricken the tribal children. The journalist, Radhakrishnan Kuttoor, spoke with two Malapandaram people, named Chandran and Rejani, who said that their children were bedridden with fevers and they had not received any medical care. They told the reporter that at least 14 kids were unable to attend classes at the Tribal School in the previous five days due to their illnesses.

The reporter wrote that the Malapandaram in the affected settlements depend on food provisions distributed by government agencies and non-governmental organizations. The Malapandaram alleged that, with the onset of summer, supplies of food have dwindled.