The government of Egypt decided last Wednesday that the Nubians who had been forced out of their homes in 1902 by the construction of the first dam at Aswan were to have legal title to their replacement properties. The construction of the so-called Aswan Low Dam flooded out many Nubians, though not nearly so many as the High Dam did in 1964.

Kamal GanzouriThe cabinet of Prime Minister Kamal al-Ganzouri decided that the parcels of land on which generations of Nubians had been living since 1902 should now be officially deeded to the people living there. The properties range in size from 350 to 1,000 square meters.

Ganzouri had served under President Hosni Mubarak as Prime Minister from 1996 to 1999 before he was dismissed. Last fall, after Essam Sharaf resigned as Prime Minister, the real rulers of Egypt, the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces, appointed Ganzouri as Prime Minister. He has control over all government affairs except for the military and the judiciary.

Ever since Mubarak was toppled from power in January 2011, the Nubians have been agitating for the right to return to the lands near Lake Nasser, formerly the River Nile, to which they have a strong cultural attachment. In September, Nubian protesters in Aswan set fire to the government building during their demonstrations. They staged a sit-in the office of the Aswan Governor, in protest against government policies of the former prime minister, which were seen as mostly empty promises that did not allow them to return to the banks of the lake.

As a result of their protests, the current Prime Minister met with Nubian representatives and agreed to this latest decision in their favor.

Tashi Dolma, describing the importance of Ladakhi beliefs in a news story last week, writes that the strength of locals to tolerate the geographical and climatic extremities of their land often leaves visitors flabbergasted. Carried by the South Asian news service ANI, Dolma’s report praises the “age old beliefs of Buddhism,” the colorful prayer flags, the vast expanses of cold, high mountain deserts, and the traditional knowledge of the Ladakhi people.

Ladakh festivalBut the primary thrust of the article is the danger to the traditional Ladakhi culture from the booming tourist business. Ladakhi elders are especially concerned that their cultural traditions are being forgotten. They are starting to preserve the best of the older ways and to restore as much as they can. They understand the wisdom of their natural and cultural heritage and are trying to pass it on to the younger people, who are captivated by the allures of alien cultures.

In addition to the traditional folk songs and dances, performed frequently for appreciative audiences of tourists, elders have revived older forms of theatre productions, which seem to attract younger Ladakhis. The youth are adding their own ideas to the performances, which serve to connect them with the traditions of their society.

Also, inviting people from remote communities into Leh to perform at festivals for the tourists is having the effect of encouraging an appreciation for the diversity of Ladakhi cultural expressions. Dolma argues that this trend is developing a sense of responsibility among Ladakhis for preserving their diversity.

Groups of Ladakhis are being formed to visit the ancient gompas and other historical sites, so they can discuss their value and focus on maintaining the serenity of the places. According to Stanzing Kunzang Angmo, a young Ladakhi who is studying in Jammu, “walking down the lanes of our ancestral villages along with our grandparents and their friends, helps us understand how things have changed since their youthful days.” She explains that this process has made her ashamed at how much she has ignored the natural and cultural heritage of her land.

While decrying the debilitating changes that the influx of outsiders has brought to Ladakh, the author acknowledges the fact that tourism has also fostered crucial improvements to life in the region. The balance between appropriate development and preserving the best of the past “lies in the warm hospitality of the Ladakhis,” Dolma asserts.

He concludes that the local people as well as visitors need to remain appreciative of the indigenous Ladakhi heritage in order to retain “the peace it offers … in the lives of the people…”

Three days later, other news sources indicated that Nawang Rigzin Jora, the Minister of Tourism for the State of Jammu and Kashmir, of which Ladakh is a part, announced that the state is going to mount a new initiative to promote the Leh/Ladakh region as a “mega tourist destination.” He said that the national government in Delhi had approved Rs 22-crore (US$4.489 Million) to begin the construction of a Trans-Himalayan Cultural Centre to be built in Leh. It will have galleries devoted to crafts, traditional customs, Ladakhi culture, the silk route, and Western Tibetan Buddhism, as well as a meditation hall.

The Minister added that shopping kiosks would be included as well as toilet facilities, a parking lot, internal roads, and landscaping. He made it clear that he expected all concerned agencies to cooperate in helping this project move forward as quickly as possible.

Teachers in the Inuit schools in Nunavut traveled to the capital, Iqaluit, last week for a five day conference about the issues relating to educating the young people of the territory. About 600 teachers were expected to crowd into the town, taking up all the available 247 hotel rooms and then some.

Inuit school childrenNunavut Premier, Eva Aariak, spoke to the teachers on Tuesday, Feb. 14th, urging them to try and bridge the divide between Inuit traditional culture and the needs of the contemporary world.

“Your challenge is not to push Nunavut’s students up to a certain level, or to fix something that is broken,” she said. “Your challenge is to close the gap between two worlds—the world that I was born into and the world that my grandchildren will have to navigate.”

Aariak is also the education minister for the territory, and is, herself, a former teacher. She acknowledged the problems of teaching in the territory, such as the graduation rates, which are “unacceptably low.” But she also urged the teachers to remain aware of “the progress that is being made,” such as the increase in grade 12 enrollment. It has grown 120 percent during the 13 year existence of the territory.

The premier expressed pride in the fact that their education system was developed in Nunavut. She also commented that the broader curriculum in the schools gave students more options. “We want our young people to have every opportunity for post-secondary studies and for work as any other Canadian,” she said. “Nothing less.”

She expressed a commitment to making sure that every Inuit child has a chance to become fully proficient in one of the Inuit languages and in either English or French by 2019. This goal will be reached as more Inuit teachers, counselors, and support staff are trained in the requisite language skills and subject matters.

The teachers “are key to bilingual education and delivering more courses in the Inuit Language throughout the territory,” Aariak said. She also suggested that having bilingual child care facilities, where both the Inuit languages and English or French are spoken, will help. Three-quarters of the communities in Nunavut already have such facilities.

Compromising with the Amish, which has long been important in Pennsylvania’s Lancaster County, now seems to be taking hold in Kentucky too, where legislators are crafting a law that will respect Amish rights as well as general safety concerns.

Kentucky state capitolWhile most Old Order Amish have no problems with displaying the slow moving vehicle triangles on their buggies, which are highly visible at night, the Schwartzentruber Amish refuse to do so. They have been sentenced to jails in Kentucky repeatedly for disobeying the existing state law on the matter. They lost their case in the Kentucky Court of Appeals and have appealed to the state Supreme Court. Meanwhile, they have also applied to the legislature for relief. There is real progress at the state capitol in Frankfort.

Senate Bill 75, sponsored by Kentucky Senator Ken Winter, was recently passed unanimously. It has been sent to the House, where similar legislation is under consideration. It allows the Amish to outline their buggies with reflective tape in lieu of the bright orange triangles.

Amish farmer Jacob Gingerich, from near Mayfield, who has been one of the major lobbyists for the Amish cause, had been sentenced to the Graves County Jail for refusing to pay the fines that the local magistrate had imposed because he wouldn’t put the triangle on his buggy. Gingerich indicated that “we’re very pleased with it,” meaning the senate bill, and “we feel like we’ve got a fairly good chance in the House.”

Sen. Damon Thayer expressed his pleasure that the senate could work out a bill which protects the public interest in avoiding accidents between motor vehicles and slow moving buggies at night, as well as respect the religious scruples of the Schwartzentrubers.

Members of the Amish community, observing the passage of the bill from the senate balcony, were obviously pleased. They also attended a meeting of the House Transportation Committee, where similar legislation, House Bill 133, was scheduled to be discussed. Consideration of that bill was delayed because the sponsor, Rep. Jimmy Bell, was sick.

Press reports last week indicated that the quick passage of the Senate bill was mostly due to a very effective letter written by Mr. Gingerich to 138 lawmakers at the state capitol. Mr. Gingerich, of course, did not use a computer to help compose his letter. Instead, he used pen and paper to write out by hand his appeal to each law maker, expressing, apparently quite effectively, his reasons for refusing to put a triangle on his buggy.

He explained that the triangle represents, in his belief, the Holy Trinity, and the Amish can’t display religious symbols like that. Furthermore, “the color of the emblem is fluorescent orange, and our church forbids the bright, loud and gaudy colors,” he wrote. “Therefore, we cannot in good conscience use the slow-moving vehicle emblem.”

He added in his letter, “it is our religious belief to abide by the law of the land, as long as it does not interfere with our religion. So, now [we] are asking the legislators to pass a law that we can abide by.” He and 17 other Amish men took buses to Frankfort to watch the legislators work on the contentious issue.

Senator Kathy Stein said that receiving her letter from Mr. Gingerich was “one of the highlights of my legislative experience.” Senator Thayer seconded that. He said that the letter from Gingerich was the key to the successful passage of the legislation, though he added that numerous other interest groups, such as the Catholic Church, the American Civil Liberties Union, and representatives of the Tea Party all pushed for it too.

Sen. Thayer was effusive about the letter. “It could be quite possibly the best example I’ve ever seen of citizen advocacy on behalf of a bill,” he said. “It was this letter, [a] one-page letter” that made “as good a case as I’ve ever seen for passage [of] legislation.”

Senator Winters, the sponsor of the successful bill, said that tests show that outlining the dark colored buggies with gray or silver reflective tape made them quite visible at night from over 1,000 feet away when motor vehicle lights shine on them. This compromise seems to satisfy both the concerns about road safety at night and the Schwartzentruber objections to the offensive triangular symbols.

House Speaker Greg Stumbo has already indicated his support for the compromise proposal, which suggests that it has a good chance of passage. Once it is passed and signed by the governor, the law would go into effect immediately.

An ANI reporter, Chetna Verma, visiting Leh 18 months after a mudslide disaster, wrote last week that “it was the traditional lifestyle and belief systems of the Ladakhi community [as well as] their humane quality” that helped them get through the tragedy. She argued that the Ladakhi spirit of mutual assistance was essential.

Ladakhi woman with her prayer wheelOne of the volunteers after the disaster told the reporter that the way the Ladakhi people cooperated with all the trained rescue workers “was a crucial factor behind the success of the emergency relief.” The joie de vivre among the survivors was apparently a highlight of an otherwise very tragic situation. In one group of survivors, who had rushed up to a promontory because of the threat of another rainstorm, the Ladakhi women started singing folk songs. Then, holding their prayer wheels, they broke into the Buddhist chant Om Mani Padme Hum to keep up their spirits.

The report from the prominent South Asian news service described the way Leh has recovered from the sudden mudslides of August 5, 2010, which destroyed parts of the small city and surrounding villages. Ms. Verma took note of the Ladakhi people “celebrating life with enthusiasm and characteristic hard work” as they rebuild their city.

She commented on the still visible scars of the mudslides and on the slow progress of the rebuilding that is taking place. She noticed large expanses of open land filled with rocks and mud, plus broken houses and the remains of buses and cars.

The secret to the successful rebuilding so far, she argued, is in the fundamental values of the Ladakhi people. They have a strong belief in community efforts, such as preserving their natural and cultural heritage, so they see helping one another rebuild as part of their duty toward humanity. They are justly famed for their hospitality toward visitors, which reflects their ethical values.

She gives many examples of their willingness to help one another, such as people who provided lodging, medications, and food in their homes to victims of the devastation, without compensation. People helped dig out others. Youths volunteered in hospitals, offering to pitch in without any formal training. Some grabbed shovels and helped dig out victims. People did what they could in the relief camps and community kitchens. The army and the border police forces also provided invaluable assistance.

Local people formed coordinating committees to handle the donations coming in and to help organize relief work. These local groups distributed funds to the families in greatest need, as well as medicines, food, and clothing in the relief camps.

The government provided three to four bulldozers to each of the rural communities whose fields had been covered by infertile mud and rocks, so the villagers could clear the land. The farmers have worked hard to restore the productivity of their fields. They are not back to normal yet, but the people are determined to resume their normal cropping. The women are back to working in their fields. Life is getting back to normal in the Leh area.

A Birhor stall at a big trade fair in Jamshedpur, the largest city in northeastern India’s Jharkhand state, was a hit with visitors to the show in recent weeks. In an industrial center famed for Tata Steel works and other major businesses, a local NGO persuaded five Birhor people from a remote village to come to the trade fair and display their craft objects.

Birhor womenThey evidently made a great impression. Ramdas Birhor, 30, was the only one of the five Birhor guests who spoke the national language. “Our tribesmen can’t speak Hindi,” Ramdas told a reporter. “Most haven’t ventured from their forest area in their whole life. Five of us came here as we are handicraft experts.”

The Enterprise Jharkhand 2012 trade fair was held at a place called the Gopal Maidan, a fairgrounds in Jamshedpur. It was a showcase for such things as the latest motor vehicles and earthmovers, but the Birhor booth attracted a lot of attention. Over 200 hand-crafted products, such as ornaments, bags, jewelry, and tuppas, were sold to over 3,000 visitors.

An article in the Telegraph from Calcutta explained that the Birhor normally fabricate their craft works out of natural materials. Ramdas pointed out that their products are made from forest creepers such as the chhihor. The tuppa, made out of rope fibers, is one of their unique creations. They form ropes into vessels that can store liquids, then paint them so they can be used as objects for decorating the interiors of homes. The Birhor make jewelry out of creepers that they then dry and press into wood block frames. Out of all the things that they sold at the booth, the bags were the only objects that they do not, themselves, use.

An official from Tata Motors, Ratnesh Singh, commented, “I came to the fair to have a look at the automobile stalls. But there was a surprise awaiting me at the Birhor kiosk.” He bought a tuppa and a bag.

Bringing the five Birhor people 60 km. into the big city from their village of Tumangkocha, in the Musabani block of the Ghatshila District of the state, was the brainchild of an NGO called SEEDS—Socio Economic and Education Development Society. The group has been working with the Birhor for the past 11 years.

Dr. Shubhra Dwivedy, the secretary of SEEDS, said that many Birhor are still shifting cultivators. “So when food supply of a forestland is exhausted, they head towards another. Convincing five persons to come here required days of persuasion.” She said she was pleased that the Birhor booth at the fair had received so much attention.

Deutsche Welle, the prominent German international broadcaster, carried a news story about the economy of the Ju/’hoansi on Saturday that provided a fairly hopeful perspective on the prospects for their Nyae Nyae Conservancy in northeastern Namibia. The reporters described, in an English language report, several different ways the people are now able to make money so they can buy supplies in a store in Tsumkwe, the major Ju/’hoansi community.

devil's clawOne of the more important economic enterprises in the conservancy is the careful, sustainable harvesting of devil’s claw roots (Harpagophytum procumbens) from the desert floor. These roots, a popular herbal medicine internationally, have to be harvested carefully and dried properly in order to keep the coveted organic certification. Records must be kept meticulously and procedures followed to the letter in order for the products to receive the international certificate of sustainable harvesting that consumers demand.

Klaus Fleissner from CRIAA, a South African consultancy, explained to the reporters how the inspectors do their work. After checking to make sure all the paperwork is done correctly, he told the authors, “we drive out to the villages where the people are harvesting the devil’s claw and look to see if they’ve filled in the holes again. This guarantees sustainability, and the most important point for organic certification is sustainable harvesting.” Mr. Fleissner admitted that the Ju/’hoansi have been harvesting the roots for centuries, so in fact they needed little instruction on how to protect the plants.

Since a modest number of tourists do visit the conservancy, the people, particularly the women, have learned how to make craft goods that will appeal to the tastes of the visitors. They cut ostrich egg shells into small pieces and string them into bracelets and necklaces. The Deutsche Welle reporters don’t mention that the Ju/’hoansi have been fabricating such things out of ostrich egg shells for a very long time. Making necklaces, bracelets and headbands out of shells used to be an essential part of their culture.

Anthropologists Megan Biesele and Nancy Howell (1981) described how their elders would instruct youngsters in the proper ways of making bead gifts, which they would then give away in order to form reciprocal, giving relationships. An article by Polly Wiessner (1982) described in even more detail the importance to their culture of teaching little children the value of gifting.

Grandmother would give an infant a gift made of beads. Then not long afterwards, she would take it away from the child, despite its protests, and show it how to make a new gift from the same beads to give to another person. The child quickly learned that the acts of giving, and the relationships that were built up, were more important than the actual objects themselves.

Wiessner (1984) subsequently described the headbands that the women made as gifts for one another, intricate works of art that were often the finest possessions of their owners. Doubtless such headbands would be far more work than necklaces and bracelets, and might not sell as well to most tourists from Germany.

Saturday’s news report also mentioned the stores in Tsumkwe—the small gift shop where the bead work is on display for the tourists and a general store for provisions. Frans Labuschagne, manager of the general store, sells mainly staples such as sugar, salt, and maize.

The nearby craft shop is run by a woman named Hoan. She evidently had to learn skills such as bookkeeping and marketing from a consultant named Martha Mulokoshi, who works for the Nyae Nyae Foundation. Hoan had to learn to take stock, write out receipts, and do all the little things that are important to running a business.

The Ju/’hoansi have other sources of income. One elderly man, Kunta Boo, frequently takes tourists on walks to demonstrate how he can live off the land. The tourists can, for five euros per night, stay at a small campsite near his village outside Tsumkwe, where people will perform their traditional dances.

The German International Development Service (DED) is advising the Ju/’hoansi on the advantages of turning their conservancy into a community forest. The authors of the article report that the conservancy will soon be awarded community forest status. Eckhard Auch from the DED argues that giving the community complete control over the resources on its land will be highly advantageous for them. The managers will then no longer necessarily have to get the approval of distant bureaucrats before making decisions that will affect the future of their resources.

Rachel Andima, from the forestry office in Tsumkwe, is similarly enthusiastic. Community forest status will encourage the people to conserve their own resources. “When they conserve them, they can use them for the future generations,” she said. Healthy, sustainable, community forests have been an important element in the culture of some Zapotec communities, as a news story a little over a year ago pointed out. It is good to learn that the model is spreading.

Effectively resolving conflicts is an essential ingredient of all peaceful societies, so an article in a leading Tanzanian newspaper last Thursday provides an interesting glimpse into the ways a village in the Fipa section of the country is handling a local dispute.

The difficulty concerns a Mr. Said Mohammed, who has been harassing his neighbors and not getting along with the leaders in his community, Milepa, located in the Sumbawanga District of Tanzania’s Rukwa Region. The news report gave enough details to reveal the extent of the local animosities that have built up.

Apparently, the trouble began when Mr. Mohammed started charging his neighbors up to Sh500,000 (US$314) each time he caught someone’s cattle roaming into his farmland. It is not clear from the news report what earlier events had prompted Mr. Mohammed’s actions. Perhaps the cattle had often entered his land and the neighbors had not offered to pay damages. The article did say that if the owner of the cattle refused to pay the fine, Mr. Mohammed would then slaughter the animals for his own use.

The details of the charges, and Mr. Mohammed’s countercharges, came out at a meeting called by the Regional Commissioner of Rukwa Region, Ms. Stella Manyanya, who was visiting the village along with some other regional officials to attempt a reconciliation. “We can’t continue living with this man,” said Mr. Potino Simfukwe, a resident of the village. Mr. Simfukwe begged the Regional Commissioner to take Mr. Mohammed away with her, or else “something terrible would happen.”

The chairman of the village, Mr. Godfrey Njelu, told the Regional Commissioner that there had been numerous complaints about the actions of Mr. Mohammed, so the villagers had reached an agreement to “deregister” him, meaning, evidently, to evict him from the community where he had been born 40 years before.

While being evicted from ones home village might seem like a small matter to some, to a farmer in Tanzania, this could be a disastrous development, though doubtless better than being murdered in the middle of the night. In any case, Mr. Mohammed had his chance at the hearing to present his side of the story.

He told Ms. Manyanya that he was the victim of the village leaders, who had mobilized public opinion against him which led to him being rejected. He said that he had been questioning the village leaders about suspicious matters that they had handled improperly. He alleged, for example, that the leaders had spent money from the Tanzania Social Action Fund improperly.

He also said he had told the village leaders that pastoralists had brought large herds of cattle into the village without following proper procedures. He also told Ms. Manyanya that he had been arguing for a land management plan for the village that would allocate different areas for livestock, farming, and forest reserves, but the leaders had not taken any action yet on his proposals.

As with all such local disputes, for outsiders interested in the maintenance of peaceful societies the interest in the story is in the ways the people handle their conflict. Mr. Mohammed did not deny the allegations against him—that he has taken a high handed approach to dealing with his neighbors, who, for whatever reasons, don’t care to try and keep their cattle off his farm land.

Willis (1981) makes it clear that there have traditionally been divisions in Fipa society between herders and farmers, and the story last week implies that the hostilities reported in a 2009 news story about cattlemen/farmer tensions persist. At least the violence that was reported in 2009 has not occurred this time.

Of more interest is the fact that the villagers at Milepa tried to ostracize the perceived troublemaker in a peaceful fashion—by taking away his right to live in the village. But their authority to do that must not be clear because, the news report indicates, the village leaders then appealed to the Regional Commissioner for her help. She evidently views such local disputes seriously enough that she took the time to visit the village personally to hear all sides of the issue.

This is conflict resolution at its finest. It is hard to imagine an elected official at a comparable level in America, say Paul LePage, the Governor of the State of Maine, driving out to Kingfield, a small, rural community, because the residents are upset with a local crank who is trying to stop them from driving their snowmobiles through his yard—then confiscating and destroying the machines whenever possible. Would Governor LePage bring members of his cabinet to listen to the complaining?

Unfortunately, the news report from Tanzania does not indicate how Ms. Manyanya decided the matter, or even if she made a decision. Perhaps she felt it was best to allow tempers to cool, and promised to propose a solution at a later point. Hopefully, the newspaper will publish an update on the story.

A new post on a Paliyan blog last week proudly described the peaceful structures in their society, but it warned that their peacefulness, combined with their shyness, has increased their vulnerability to being exploited by corrupt outsiders.

Paliyan womanUsing the pluralized form of their name from the Tamil language—one Paliyan, many Paliyar—the new post claims proudly that the Paliyar have a lot to teach “the so called ‘Modern World’ from their traditions.” The statement argues that their hunting and gathering subsistence lifestyle is the reason that they take extraordinary care to protect the forests and wildlife.

They believe that everything has a right to life. Their values about nature extend to their own survival. They do not store surpluses, and furthermore, they do not even try to make a profit from them. The Paliyar “have a modest living with minimum needs, very simple and straight forward in their thought process, find no reason to acquire in abundance when there is enough for their need and they respect ecological democracy ….”

The blog, which has not posted anything from September 2010 until January 2012, appears to be closely linked to a Paliyan website, the Collective Action for Forest Adivasi in Tamil Nadu (CAFAT). They both post some of the same pictures and similar, if not identical, information in English. The authors, who remain anonymous, clearly want to reach out to a wide audience with their ideas and information.

The blog post describes the physical features and habitat of the Paliyans. It reports that some of them still subsist in the interior forests, in huts made of sticks and grasses, rather than living in the plains in closer association with the Tamils. The ones in the plains cultivate some crops, but, the story suggests, they still do not store surpluses. They have been forced, due to the construction of dams in their forested lands, to move into the plains and take jobs in order to survive.

The article outlines the goals and objectives for the CAFAT organization. The primary goal of the organization is “To Build Adivasi Paliyar Movement in western Ghats Region of Tamil Nadu.” Adivasi is the word used in India for the aboriginal peoples of the subcontinent.

The objectives of the group are to protect the rights of the Paliyan; to ensure that they have the continuing permission to collect and use minor forest products; to guarantee them the right to manage their forest lands; to preserve and safeguard their traditional culture, community resources, and “customary mode of dispute resolution”; to foster dialog with non-Adivasi peoples of India; and to document the cultural heritage of the Paliyans.

The CAFAT website includes many images of Paliyans.

Many lingering views of cute kids highlight a charming video of the Chewong community located at Lanchang, next to the Kuala Gandah Elephant Sanctuary in Malaysia’s Pahang State.

Chewong communityUploaded to YouTube last Thursday, January 26th, the video shows scenes of the community: adults raking their gardens, kids mugging for the camera, men cutting grass with machetes, kids smiling at the photographer, people planting their gardens, folks caring for their crops, and so on. It’s an interesting production if you like grinning children.

The video, titled “Highlight of Che Wong tribe at Kuala Gandah Lanchang Pahang,” has a music accompaniment but, unfortunately, the only narration is by various academics speaking in Malaysian, with no translation. The Highlight Documentary was produced by Telunjukanan Creative Photography.

A news report nearly two years ago described the construction of a visitor center at the village, so the Chewong could more effectively attract some of the tourists who visit the nearby elephant zoo. It is good to see even a brief, 3 minute 45 second, video of the community.

A visitor to this website, Steve Goodall, recently alerted us to the existence of a video about Ifaluk Island which he put up on YouTube on December 31, 2011. Goodall is an activist and filmmaker who sailed his 34 foot sailboat to Micronesia. His video, obviously shot from the deck of his sailboat, looks down at four Ifaluk kids sitting in a small outrigger canoe singing. The work, called “Someplace with a Mountain,” is a subtle plea to stop global climate change, which is causing sea levels to rise, which is flooding out a wonderful place that produces such unbelievably charming children.

Actually, the brief video is related to a longer, 21 minute documentary on Vimeo, also titled “Someplace with a Mountain” by Goodall. He realized during his travels through the Pacific that the rising sea levels were affecting all of the low lying atolls in Micronesia and he decided to make a film to try and help out. It is a powerful documentary.

A commenter on the YouTube site wrote about the Ifaluk children, “This is one of the most beautiful videos I have ever scene. Stunning!” It is impossible to disagree. The message in the Ifaluk video is powerful, in large part because the four children are so unaffected. They are not begging, not really even smiling for the camera, though a couple of them glance briefly up at the cameraman.

One of the girls is bailing water out of the little canoe during the video—one wonders what would have happened if she had stopped. The kids are just singing a song, which gets better and better as they go along. The song isn’t translated—it doesn’t have to be. The message focuses on the kids—and on the future of humanity on the earth. Both of Goodall’s productions are quite moving.