Peaceful Societies

A dramatic announcement by a Piaroa interest group last week not only outlined their opposition to illegal mining activity within their territory, it also denounced the presence of armed groups that violate their peaceful ethos. The manifesto was published on March 9 on the website of the Observatory of Political Ecology of Venezuela.

A Piaroa man eating (Screenshot from the video “Piaroa Culture: Venezuelan Amazon, by ProBiodiversa on Vimeo, Creative Commons license)

People from four different Piaroa areas of Venezuela’s Amazonas state gathered in the Pendare community of the Autana municipality to prepare their declaration. They write that they are the “heirs, possessors and guardians of their territories” in southcentral Venezuela, people who base their ways on their worldview, which their pronouncement describes as peaceful. Throughout the document, the indigenous term used is “Uwottüja,” an alternate name for the Piaroa.

The document reminds a reader from the United States about the American Declaration of Independence: both documents justify their statements in a similar fashion. Recall the famous “he has” sentences describing the wrongdoings of the King of England toward his subjects in the British colonies. The Piaroa write in their declaration of complaints, “tired that governments do not attend to our problems or needs…”

And what do they propose to do about the situation? “We have decided to defend ourselves, by our own means, from this silent invasion, making use of our constitutional right to defend the sovereignty of our Nation, as indigenous Venezuelan citizens, we have decided to defend our Uwottüja territory.” They make it clear that they will defend their territory and their rights in entirely peaceful ways. Their document sets out the specifics of their concerns, some of which need to be described.

The Autana River in southcentral Venezuela (Photo by Fernando Flores on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

The first demand is that they should be recognized as the “original people” of the four major rivers of the Amazonas state—the Autana, the Cuao, the Sipapo, and the middle sector of the Orinoco. As such, they are the guardians of their territories, responsible for the biocultural resources of the land and water.

Furthermore, they reject the illegal mining that goes on in their territory. They declare their opposition to all other illegal activities, such as using the territory for the shipment of drugs.

They demand that all armed people, whether Venezuelans or internationals, who are increasingly fomenting conflicts with the indigenous people must be prevented from using their territory. The writers deplore the fact that some of their indigenous brothers have been induced to join those armed gangs.

They demand that the governments of Venezuela and of Amazonas state re-activate the commissions that were working to demarcate the indigenous territory. Those commissions have not been functioning for at least ten years. Even though the Piaroa consider their territory to be rightfully theirs to manage and use, having the government declare the territory officially as theirs would be very helpful.

Piaroa Woman and her son (Photo by Ronny Velâsquez and Nilo Ortiz that used to be available with a Copyleft license)

Next, the compliers deal with their widely-known peacefulness with a statement beginning, “That as a Uwottüja Indigenous People, peaceful people, that we do not accept any form of violence….” Therefore, the armed people must be expelled from their territory for they are opposed to any warfare with armed gangs, with invaders from across the border in Colombia, or with anyone else.

They indicate at the close of the document that 287 Piaroa met in Pendare on February 26 to agree on the declaration of rights. They intend to monitor the situation and collect evidence with their video cameras at such spots as the beach at the mouth of the Autana River.

It will be interesting to see if a self-prepared declaration such as this will help the Piaroa without any follow-up violence or warfare. In essence, the American colonies declared their independence from England and then fought a protracted war to really secure it. But are other approaches possible? Can a society pledged to avoiding violence succeed in gaining its rights through non-violent means?

Traditional Inuit tattooing is being preserved and revived by their women, according to a news report in Nunavut News on Wednesday last week. The article quoted several women who spoke of their desires to preserve their sense of cultural identity, and to honor their families by getting traditional tattoos put on their bodies.

Birds by an Inuit tattoo artist (Photo by Ren Buford on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

Inukshuk Aksalnik told the reporter that her family certainly shaped her identity, so she had traditional tattoos inscribed on both of her wrists in 2016 to remember and honor them. She explained that each small, Y-shaped symbol represents a family member with whom she had felt close.

She also adorns her wrists with dots, which imitate similar dots worn by her grandmother on her forearms. They symbolized for the older woman the milestones in her life. Thus, in addition to having personal meanings, the tattoos allow the women to connect and identify with other people and their stories. “I feel proud when I see other women have them (traditional tattoos),” she said.

Another Inuk woman, Nicole Ettiq, didn’t reveal the meanings of her tattoos but she did indicate that she started to follow her family’s traditions in 2017 by getting them applied to her wrists. Since then she has put them on her face, neck, and chin. She said that her great aunt was the last person in her family to wear the traditional markings.

Eskimo women from King’s Island, Alaska, with striking tattoos on their arms in 1910 — Eskimo women from King’s Island, Alaska, in 1910 with striking tattoos on their arms (Unknown photographer in Wikimedia, in the public domain)

“My tattoos have helped me with my identity as an Inuk woman by connecting myself to a tradition that many of my ancestors and family practiced,” she said. She added that she feels her tattoos empower her. They remind her of the strength of the Inuit. She said they help her be more mindful.

A third Inuk woman, who asked to remain anonymous, indicated that her tattoos symbolized her transformation—she decided to get some traditional tattoos on the day she graduated from an alcohol addiction rehab program. She said it seemed good to see more Inuit women wearing tattoos. She explained that having tattoos symbolize that she is no longer a girl.

For her, they serve as a reminder of her accomplishments. They serve to strengthen her commitment to sobriety.

A Malaysian newspaper, The Sun Daily, published a brief story last week about a young Semai woman who has become a firefighter. According to the reporter, she is the first Orang Asli woman to take such a position.

Firefighters in Malaysia practicing at a training facility (Photo by Spence500 in Wikipedia, Creative Commons license)

Edaziana Matoyam, a 23-year old from Tapah, in Perak state, watched the exploits of firefighters on television and heard about their heroism while she was in school and decided she wanted to become one too. She is the oldest of four siblings in her family.

She told the reporter that she found the two-week training program at the fire and rescue training complex in Alor Star to be arduous, but she persisted with it. “I am glad that I pull[ed] through,” she said. “It was tough.” She also had some problems with communications and “cultural issues.” She does not explain what they were. But she persisted, not willing to give up.

Once she finished the training program, she was posted to a station in Jitra, in Kedah. The news that a woman from an original society in Malaysia would aspire to become a firefighter and then achieve that goal prompts the question as to how such an ambition fits in with traditional Semai thinking about appropriate gender roles.

Clayton Robarchek, an anthropologist who did extensive fieldwork among the Semai more than 40 years ago, wrote an essay that appeared in the 1989 book Societies at Peace: Anthropological Perspectives, edited by Signe Howell and Roy Willis, in which he addressed the issue. He said that the Semai social structure includes a clear but not rigid division of labor between the sexes: there are no separate ideals for women versus men, no tasks that are strictly for women or men.

Robarchek added a lot of additional useful information about the Semai in his article, such as the fact that their most important moral imperatives are food sharing and avoiding violence. Almost all gatherings open and close with statements about the unity of the band, the importance of their interdependence, and the fact that they always help one another.

Nile crocodiles are very large, highly aggressive, African fresh-water predators that are feared throughout much of their range. They consume hundreds of human victims per year. People of course try to avoid them except for the Nubians of Gharb Sohail who love them.

A Nile crocodile (Photo by Arno Meintjes in Flickr, Creative Commons license)

The people in this one village on the Nile just south of Aswan but north of the High Dam have learned how to raise the giant reptiles from hatching, feed them well—but not other humans!—and allow tourists to take selfies with them. A community well known for its tourism has devised a stunning new approach.

An article last Thursday in the newspaper Asharq Al-Awsat provides details about the obsession in Gharb Sohail for its crocs. The article emphasizes that crocodiles mean more to the Nubians than just as a source of tourist dollars. In ancient times, the crocodile-headed god Sobek symbolized the Nile and its importance to humans. The Nubians mount mummified crocodile heads on their doors as totems, seeking blessings for their beliefs.

The village of Gharb Sohail, on the west bank of the Nile (Photo b Hatem Moushir in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license) — The village of Gharb Sohail, on the west bank of the Nile (Photo by Marc Ryckaert in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)

The stuffed reptiles on house exteriors indicate that the homeowners are raising the huge animals as pets. A Nubian man, Hassan, gently stroked Francesca, his five-foot long, 15-year old pet crocodile on its back. The 45-year-old told the journalist that he has raised her since she was hatched. He feeds his pet with chicken, fish, and other meats.

He said that his father was one of the first people in the village to start raising the crocodiles in their homes as a way of appealing to tourists. Over the past 20 years, Hassan has developed keen instincts about where to look for crocodile eggs and when they will hatch. He has learned where the wild females will lay their eggs along the banks of Lake Nasser, the reservoir formed by the High Dam.

He tries to be at the nest site when the baby crocs hatch so he can quickly take some of the newborn reptiles to his home. “The crocodile’s aggressive nature is tempered by growing up in the home with us and being cared for,” he said.

Hassan indicates that a group of visiting Italian tourists were so delighted with the crocodile that they named her Francesca, a name that Hassan likes and has kept for her. She is the star in the show that the people of Gharb Sohail put on for tourists, who love to snap selfies with her. A tourist from Cairo, Hany, visited the village with his children so they could enjoy seeing the crocodiles. He said he especially liked watching Hassan open Francesca’s mouth with his bare hands.

Hassan points to the mummified head of another crocodile in his home and introduces it as the late crocodile Franco, who died just the month before. The owner of a café in the village, Abdel-Hakim Abdou, recommended that a tourist should visit Hassan’s place—a must-see tourist attraction, evidently.

He praised crocodiles as essential to the Nubian culture. “The Nile for the Nubian represents life… everything that roams in it we consider angels,” he said.

An old Lepcha ritual honoring “Mother Nature” and its bounties was one of the focus points of a celebration called Muk Zek Ding Rum Faat in Pangthang, Sikkim, on February 23. A news story about the celebration published on the 26th used the gendered term for nature.

A Lepcha girl selling nuts at a street market in Darjeeling in 1928 (Photographer unknown in Wikimedia, in the public domain)

The Sikkim Lepcha Youth Association, which organized the event, indicated that celebrating nature is a critical part of Lepcha tradition. Participants offer prayers for the sprouting of vegetation by Mother Nature. A press release from the SLYA, quoted by the reporter, listed the three bongthings (high priests) who performed the rituals.

The program began with the dedication of a stone pillar, referred to as a Lungchok, in honor of the celebration. Then the bongthings offered prayers to nature to preserve a clean world free of disease and to bless the world with bounty. Then, devotees lined up to gain blessings from the bongthings for a better future.

A Lepcha man (Photo by Ernst Schäfer in Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)

The celebration included speeches about nature and poems recited by students from the Lepcha Department of the Sikkim University. One speaker, T. N. Densapa, congratulated the SLYA for organizing the event. Apparently, the speaker has money for he offered support for future programs such as this. He urged attendees at the celebration, most of whom are students, to continue preserving and promoting the heritage and culture of the Lepchas.

Sonam Dubden Lepcha, who was formerly the chair of the Lepcha Primitive Tribe Board, echoed the same thoughts. He praised the SLYA for successfully organizing the celebration and for promoting the heritage and culture of the Lepcha people.

The migration by Zapotec farmers to find work north of the Mexican border is now fostered as much by global climate change as it is by other economic factors. A 2,400-word article published in the National Observer, a Canadian news website, on Monday last week explains the nature of the migration, its causes, and, most critically, the ramifications for the Zapotec families and communities left behind.

San Bartolomé Quialana (Photo by chimpete, champata on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

The journalist, Charlie Fidelman, indicates that he has known his subjects, the Hernandez family, for about 10 years. The family lives in San Bartolomé Quialana, a Zapotec community in the Central Valley of Oaxaca. About 80 percent of the men in the town have moved north and send monetary remittances back to their families. On the streets, a visitor would notice mostly women with their children dressed in traditional clothing and speaking Zapotec.

The author provides a lot of information about his selected family. Javier, the seventh and last Hernandez son, was 19 and had no prospects for work or for a useful life if he were to stay in his home community. So he contacted some coyotes and arranged to be smuggled north to the U.S.. A short distance from the border, however, they turned vicious.

They beat the young man severely and put a call through to his family back in Oaxaca demanding a $10,000 ransom in return for his life. Then they buried him alive with only straws down to his nose so he could breathe until the family came through with the money. They were able to borrow the funds and Javier returned to his homeland. At least briefly—he is now at an undisclosed spot in “el Norte” working two jobs for a living.

The author gets a tour of the family homestead with Erika, one of three daughters to have stayed in Oaxaca. She points to improvements in the house that have been financed with funds sent back by the sons working in the north.

Corn from Oaxaca (Photo by International Maize and Wheat Improvement Center on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

Erika dips into one of the themes of the article—that climate change is having a profound effect on the Zapotec farmers. She points out that the family’s cornfield is located on the outskirts of the town and has no source of guaranteed water. When there is no rain, caused by climate change, the corn does not grow as well as it should. “Everyone is leaving because there’s no work and no water,” she tells the author. He emphasizes the importance of raising corn to the Mexican people as a symbol. He quotes a popular Mexican saying: “We’re children of corn.”

The author interviews Lauren Baker, a Toronto researcher and authority on the corn culture in Mexico, to find out what impact climate change is having on the corn culture among the Zapotec. He asks her what the risk might be for the Zapotec and for the rest of the Mexican corn culture from climate change.

Ms. Baker replies that the entire culture is at risk—young people are losing their interest in farming, there is an increasing tendency to limit their crops to only a few varieties, and so on. And of course, the trend of young men to migrate north to find work appears to be growing.

A Zapotec woman from the Oaxaca Valley (Photo by Elí García-Padilla on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

But that trend has had serious social consequences for the Zapotec people. In some communities, the streets are mostly occupied by women and children plus old men and some stray dogs. The reality is that it is unlikely the men will come back soon. Perhaps never.

Many have married in America and they have American children. Many of the men won’t risk crossing the border again since, as illegal immigrants, they might get caught, which would endanger their (mostly) American families. Erika says that they have a lot of phone conversations with their families in the U.S., but her parents have grandchildren they have never met.

Sociologist Socorro Monterrubio, who has worked with Zapotec communities in Tlacolula, explained that this economic migration is now a way of life for the people. Women are increasingly forced to accept nontraditional roles as heads of families and providers, as workers in the fields, and as directors of their children’s up-bringing. (This is true, at least, for the ones whose husbands return home from time to time.) And some of the men who return periodically to impregnate their wives are temporarily leaving second wives and families in the U.S. Abandoning their Zapotec partners “is more common than you think,” Monterrabio says.

A woman selling fruits and vegetables in the Tlacolula market (Photo by AlejandroLinaresGarcia on Wikimedia, Creative Commons license)

Many women work in the corn fields, care for the farmyard fowl, raise the children, and, increasingly, work as domestics, clean houses, and take positions as caregivers. In addition, of course, they take responsibilities for the skills passed down by their mothers: making not only tortillas and tamales but also baskets and rugs, pottery and ceramics, and crafts with sewing and embroidery on them. They routinely go into the major market in Tlacolula on Sundays to socialize and to sell their wares.

Mr. Fidelman concludes his article with an analysis of the current state of the Mexican immigration into Canada—which, figures show, is increasing.

Women from the Baker Hutterite Colony near MacGregor, Manitoba, played the last ice hockey game of a ten-year series of contests with a local women’s team, the MacGregor Iron Maidens, on Monday evening the 17th. The CBC News posted a fascinating story about the contest and its meaning for the two communities.

Men and women playing ice hockey in Winnipeg, Manitoba, in 1910 (Photo by H.J. Woodside in Wikipedia, presumably in the public domain)

Tirzah Maendel, who plays with the Hutterite team, was one of the organizers of the series of annual games 10 years ago. She told the CBC that there was very little interest in the first contest—only a few spectators turned out to watch the game—but the local interest and the size of the crowds attending has increased dramatically each year since then.

Ms. Maendel speculated that part of the appeal for the annual local game might be the fact that the Hutterite women lace on their ice skates below their long, traditional skirts while their opponents are clad in standard hockey gear. “I think word got out and people were more intrigued at us being able to play in our skirts,” Maendel told the reporter.

The Hutterite lady said that the growth of interest in the annual games and their impact on the community has been astonishing. A few years ago, the team members decided to use their talents to raise money for charitable causes. One year it benefited the women’s center in town; another year the event raised money to buy equipment for a playground in MacGregor, which is located about 120 km. west of Winnipeg.

This year the teams decided to raise money to help two immigrant families from Syria that are living in town. They decided to sell Syrian foods at the game on Monday evening such as shawarma and falafel.

Young Hutterite women hanging out on a Winnipeg street (Photo by Dave Shaver on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

Ms. Maendel said that many local people support both teams equally so she is convinced that they help foster good relations within the community. She frequently has people stopping her around town, telling her that they have been inspired by the Hutterite women, and saying that they have started skating because of the games. “It’s been awesome to get that type of feedback,” she told the reporter.

Reflecting about the 10th and final game of the series, Maendel said that initially other Hutterite colonies did not approve of the games. “It’s definitely raised important discussions and healthy conversations, because not all Hutterites are supportive of this game or the idea that women do play,” she said. “It hasn’t been easy.”

Her comment prompts some questions. What does the broader literature on the Hutterites say about their attitudes toward organized sports? And just as important, how supportive are the colonies toward women and girls getting involved in games and sports?

The answers to both questions appear to vary among the different colonies and how conservative their leaders are. Rod Janzen and Max Stanton in their book The Hutterites in North America (2010) make it clear that for most Hutterites, recreational activities such as participating in sports is frowned upon. A teacher in one conservative colony commented, “there is no time for sports. This takes time away from more important things (p.164).”

Yet the reality in many colonies differs from such stated ideals. Janzen and Stanton go on to say that many Canadian Hutterites avidly follow the ice hockey games while the people in the American colonies often follow baseball and football. And though the workloads for adults may not allow much time for organized sports, many colonies allow their children to play softball, hockey, baseball, and kickball. The authors write that some colonies have sports fields to accommodate the sporting interests of their members and a few even have gymnasiums.

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 (Photo by Roger W. on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

Lisa Marie Stahl’s book My Hutterite Life effectively deals with the issue of participation in sports by colony women and girls. Her experience was that there are many opportunities for girls to become involved as much as they wish. In a section describing the activities of colony young people, she writes, “The young girls’ favorite sport is a game of baseball or catch with their friends (p.42).” They fit in their interests in sports along with helping older women in their gardening work and canning vegetables.

In other words, the girls mix pleasant sporting activities with work as much as they can. A bit later in the book (p.88) she reviews her childhood memories, such as her favorite winter activities: big snowball fights during recess periods in school and sled races. The boys and girls participated in the teams they formed.

The CBC News story last week adds an important perspective to the growing literature about the Hutterite colonies in North America. Ms. Maendel is satisfied with her work in promoting ice hockey for the women at the Baker Colony. It appears to fit in with a pattern of broad female activity, if not gender equality, at the colonies. She concludes, however, that 10 years of the games is about enough. Time to play the last game with the other team in town, then end the series. See what other activities will inspire them next.

District officials in Machilipatnam, a small city in Andhra Pradesh, have mounted a campaign to convince Yanadi parents in a tribal colony to encourage their children to attend a local government school. A news report in The Hindu last week described the work on behalf of the Yanadi children by the Assistant Superintendent of Police, M. Sattibabu, to promote more and better education for the children.

The business center of Machilipatnam (Photo by Ganeshk in Wikipedia, Creative Commons license)

Mr. Sattibabu is convinced that giving the kids an education will improve their lives. He is working closely with the Narayanaraopeta Yanadi colony, located near the Machilipatnam railroad station. He found that the parents frequently encourage their children to accompany them to their jobs, so the dropout rate by the kids is high.

The official attended a program held at a local primary school and explained to the parents the extent of the government support that is available to their children. He asked teachers and parents in the audience to ensure that all children attend school regularly. Furthermore, effective hygiene, both in school and at home, was encouraged during the program.

Some Yanadi kids (Photo that was on NationMaster.com and copyrighted, but released for all uses without reservation)

Mehaboob Basha, the Deputy Superintendent of Police, plus other officials attended the program. Mr. Sattibabu handed out school bags and notebooks to the 52 Yanadi students in the primary school. The Hindu emphasized that he has devoted himself to monitoring the needs of the colony. He has particularly focused on the education facilities in the Krishna District and the education of the Yanadi kids.

Anyone who has looked at a good map of Tristan da Cunha must have noticed that the Islanders have given a lot of places on their island strange names. Some of their toponyms are routine and simply descriptive—”Little Beach” for instance—while others can only be described as weird, like “Pig Bite.”

Tristan women carding and spinning (Photo courtesy of Catherine E. Snyder and Jerry Spady)

Pig Bite is the name for a ridge where a pig ran down an islander and bit him or her a hundred years ago or so. Nellie’s Hump is not named for what you might think—it is a small crater on the central volcano of the island. According to the author of an article published on the internet on Tuesday last week, its name was derived from an account of a dog chasing a goat.

Frank Jacobs, the author, begins his analysis with some interesting factoids and arguments. While it is well known that islands foster biodiversity because of their isolation, he writes, perhaps they also promote a wealth of toponyms for comparable reasons. In a similar vein, he speculates that since there are about 250 people on Tristan, “the island must have the highest weird-place-name-per-capita ratio in the world.”

The Settlement on Tristan da Cunha (Image by Michael Clarke Stuff on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

Jacobs castigates the lack of place names presented by Google Maps in its depiction of the island. The map only shows a small number of the major places: Queen Mary’s Peak, the central volcano of the island, and Edinburgh of the Seven Seas, the name for the only village, which the Islanders persist in calling just “the Settlement.” In order to find a better listing of the place names used by the people, Jacobs turned to other maps and to an investigation by the British historian Dan Snow.

Snow has published his findings about Tristan toponymy into his Twitter thread and Jacobs quotes repeatedly from his reports. He points out that major map features, such as Queen Mary’s Peak and Mount Olav, named respectively for the wife of King George V of the UK and for King Olav V of Norway, were both relatively recent place names. What were they called before being renamed?

Snow evidently asserts, according to Jacobs, that the formal name for the settlement, Edinburgh of the Seven Seas, is the world’s finest name for a capital. But folks searching for weird names only have to continue studying their non-Google maps. Look farther to the east from the Settlement and note the Ridge-where-the-goat-jump-off and, not far away, a beach titled Down-where-the-minister-land-his-things. Evidently the Islanders roll these names off effortlessly.

Allan B. Crawford, the British surveyor included in the Norwegian Scientific Expedition to Tristan in 1937–1938, decided when he first landed on the island to include on the map he was to produce the local names for geographic places. The actual place names used by the Islanders were poorly represented on the Admiralty chart he had with him. As a result of the discussion on Twitter, Allan’s grandson Bryant Crawford reminded Snow of the discussion in his grandfather’s book Memoirs—North, South, East & West about the naming of places on the island.

The account last week quotes a number of paragraphs from Crawford’s most recent work (the author was 94 when the book came out in 2006). Crawford explains (p.23 in the book) that “it was at once evident” that he needed to record and use the place names used by the Tristan Islanders instead of the ones on the Admiralty chart “in order to produce a meaningful” work.

Crawford describes the origin of the name for the beach called “Down-where-the-minister-land-his-things.” It commemorates the place where the minister, Rev. Barrow, and Mrs. Barrow had to land in 1906 when they arrived because rough weather prevented them from landing at the Settlement. Crawford mentions that the people still use the name because there is a swing at the beach that remains popular.

The people were aware that they already had a Goat Ridge to the west of the community so a formation on the south side of the island became known as the “Ridge-where-the-goat-jump-off.” Mr. Crawford recorded around 80 new toponyms on the island. Crawford observed that the Islanders have a strong loyalty to the British royal family such that the volcano that defines the entire island is named after Queen Mary. For her part, the wife of King George V took a serious interest in the Islanders and gave them a harmonium for their church. Many Islanders display photos of the royal couple in the windows of their homes.

On January 30 this website reported on the ceremonial event held in Aswan 10 days earlier by the Egyptian government to recognize the successful claims of more than 11,000 Nubians for damages caused to them by the construction of the Aswan High Dam in the early 1960s. The Middle East news website Al-Monitor last week ran a news story on the settlement that provided some additional details.

Nubian women (Photo by Katie Hunt on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

Prime Minister Mustafa Madbouly said at the ceremony that the Nubians serve as “an integral part of society” and that the government was determined to “solve their problems.”

The Al-Monitor reporter quoted the opinions of some Nubians. Khalil el-Gebaly, the former head of the local council of the Nasr El-Nuba Center, said that the settlement “is a response to our demands of many years.” He was only 18 when he had to leave Old Nubia and migrate with his family to Kom Ombo to the north of Aswan.

He explained that his father received compensation for one house and some land—but they had to abandon four houses and 18 acres when they were forced to leave in the 1960s. The family is receiving some cash in this current compensation cycle since they have not as yet been paid all that is owed to them.

Nubian women in West Aswan (Photo from the Nubian Image Archive on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

The head of the Nubian General Club in Cairo, Mohamed Saleh Aadlan, told the reporter that there are really two groups of Nubians involved with the current wave of compensations—those who have not received any money despite their losses over 50 years ago and those who have gotten some but not all that they deserve.

He added that the compensation awards will even go to great grandchildren who have deeds to properties owned by long-deceased grandparents and great grandparents who were displaced in the 1960s. He admitted that, for himself, he has no claims since his parents were displaced from their homes when the earlier Aswan Low Dam was raised in1933.

Officials indicated during the event in Aswan that the Nubians affected by the construction of the dam and the filling of the reservoir, Lake Nasser, should expect to be compensated gradually. The Governor of Aswan, Ashraf Attia, said that a second round of requests for compensation will be opened in February.

Sundown on Lake Nasser (Photo by Carlos Bustamante Restrepo on Flickr, Creative Commons license)

Nader Saad, a spokesperson for the Cabinet, said on Jan. 20 that the process would soon be concluded. The government will have “found a fundamental solution to the problem of compensation for the people of Nubia.”

Peaceful Societies

Peaceful Societies

Piaroa Declare their Rights

Inuit Women Revive Traditional Tattooing

Semai Woman Becomes a Firefighter

Nile Crocodiles Charm Tourists in Nubian Village

Lepchas Celebrate Nature

Zapotec Migration North

Hutterite Women Play Ice Hockey

Police Officials Support Yanadi Kids

Weird Toponyms on Tristan

Compensation for the Nubians

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