The Trench, and food for thought

Now that, finally, Latin, and in particular South America enters the scene, I’ll talk about “political life [being] turbulent and unstable” in Latin America, as Strayer puts it in Chapter 18. Some of the events that happened in the 1800s in Argentina will probably make us think about, and reflect, on certain endeavors we embark on today.

During the 1800s Argentina was basically a group of powerful centers, called provinces. As a side note, just like we have primarily a Eurocentric view of the world, Argentineans have a Buenos Aires-centric view of the country, so most of the historical accounts have a “porteño” (from the port) perspective. Back then, it is true that Buenos Aires, being the main port of entry, was important and it received most of the European influence; however, there were other powerful provinces that played a major role in Argentinean history, like Tucuman (“the garden of the Republic”), Cordoba, Entre Rios, Corrientes, and Santa Fe, to name a few.

Side note done, the 1800s were turbulent in many ways. At the beginning of the century the country was organizing its political environment, fighting Brazilian invasions, and in plain chaos, with almost all provinces fighting for power on either the Unitarist or Federalist sides. By 1816, Argentina declares independence from Spain and all other foreign powers. In addition to the chaos, the Argentineans were also, from about mid 1800s on, conducting the infamous “Campaigns to the Desert,” fighting, and mostly exterminating, the different Native populations that existed in the country. See, by then that was the “patriotic” thing to do. Argentineans were so “European” just 300 years after the founding of the city of Buenos Aires (1536), that they had a view of the natives pretty much like the one the first Conquistadors had: they are uncivilized, and barbaric. So the Argentineans fought them.

At this point is where a bright idea occurred to government official Adolfo Alsina: to dig a trench over 8 feet deep, 10 feet wide, and 600 miles long, from the Atlantic to the Andes [1], to secure the frontier of “civilization” and keep away the natives. Sounds laughable? That was the 1800s in Argentina, fast forward to today, and see if you recognize this:





It’s the U.S.-Mexico border. The wall. The fence. I think this is why we need to learn about World history, and not just the major events, but also the ones that seem small and silly. Alsina’s trench was not much different than today’s U.S.-Mexico fenced border. Did it work back then? Nope. Will this “contemporary trench” work? I doubt it. 150 years later, we keep not focusing on the real issue.



[1] Nouzeilles, G. & Montaldo, G. (Eds) The Argentina Reader: History, Culture, Politics. Duke University Press, 2002

Chapter 14 and current diversity issues

A note before I begin: technically, the terms “Hispanic” and “Latino” (short for “Latino American”) group all Spanish- AND Portuguese-speaking America, sometimes even including Spain and Portugal. However, the way these terms are used today varies greatly, particularly for U.S. government agencies. And when I say America, I refer to the continent, not the United States.

Here in the U.S., every time there is a census or when we are close to big elections, the word “Hispanic” resurfaces... but what does it mean to be “Hispanic,” and why most “Hispanics don’t want to self-identify as such? I think that part of the answer lies in the multiracial, multicultural, multiethnic make-up of Latin America, and Chapter 14 does a nice job at illustrating how the mixed races came to be, as well as highlighting the social impact of these differences.

The different unions in different parts of the conquered territories (Portuguese or Spaniards with natives and with African slaves) led to the multiracial landscape we see today in Brazil and in Spanish-speaking countries. As Strayer briefly touches on, it also led, from very early on, to a hierarchical social system that had long-term effects that last until today.

From personal experiences, in Argentina for example, the lighter skinned still enjoys more opportunities. Buenos Aires received a new wave of European immigrants (19th and 20th century), and its subsequent racial/ethnic mix created an even stronger disparity between people from the capital and people from the rest of the country. People from the capital city became not only whiter, but also more “European” in customs, and people from the rest of the country is seen as “darker” and less sophisticated in comparison. When people from the rest of the country move to the capital city in search for better opportunities, they face discrimination in many different forms. The “superiority” of the “European-like” still prevails. When the opposite happens, people from the capital city move to other provinces in search for an idyllic way of life away from the craziness of the capital, people from the provinces make the “capitalinos” feel like fish out of water, and they in turn get discriminated. However, if the “capitalinos” are lighter-skinned it is very likely they will still find jobs.

Now, if even within the same country (and I am sure Argentina is not the only country that suffers from the issues I just described) we have many different identities as a result of local variables, one can just imagine what happens if one throws in the bag another 20 or so other countries and territories, and then ask people to self-identify as “Hispanic” or “Latino.” Again, What do those labels mean??? In the minds of people, in the visual images one gets when faced with those words, it’s certainly more than what is described in a dictionary or in a census definition; and some people have a really hard time with that. Are Hispanics white? Are they brown? Is being Hispanic a race? If so, what are the characteristics of that race? Spanish-speaking people from 21 countries and territories cannot be grouped into one “Hispanic race” simply because we don’t have much more in common other than the language and a handful of customs. To illustrate this point, the fact that there were no major civilizations like the Aztecs or the Incas** settled in Argentina already makes our societal make-up very different from that of Peru or Mexico. Argentina received very little African slave influx, and they mostly perished during our civil wars or the yellow fever epidemic, therefore their impact and legacy is very weak compared to that in Cuba, for example. Do we in these four countries (Cuba, Argentina, Mexico, Peru) have much in common? No. Just because we speak the same language or happened to be conquered by Iberians does not mean we belong in the same group, nor do we necessarily have a shared identity. Labeling destroys identities, it gets to the core of who one is, even if it is for a good reason. I understand that in the U.S. there are actually benefits associated with identifying oneself as Hispanic, but at the same time it is an uncomfortable feeling for many. I don’t have mighty Aztec blood or Kongo-Angolan rhythms flowing through my veins, but I am still ME. I think that this chapter explains why millions of “Hispanics” refuse racial categorization, for example for the census... And I haven't talked about how Brazilians feel about it!

**(although the Incas conquered a fraction of the Argentinian northwest under the Tupa(c) Inca expansion)

Masai warrior presentation, experience related to WW ch. 12 (pp.340-341)

Last year I had an opportunity to attend a presentation of over an hour, given by a Masai warrior named Sabore Ole Oyie. He was in the Bay Area helping educate people about the Masai, and raising funds to build a school for Masai children, as well as to bring water to their community. Note that Sabore is one of the few members of the Masai tribe who is educated and who speaks fluent English.

In his presentation, Sabore explained how they become warriors, what it means, and what purpose it serves. The Masai are cattle peoples, as I had heard during Sabore’s presentation and as the book described, therefore they become warriors to fight the animals that endanger their cattle. Sabore talked about killing lions (a practice that has been banned), about the rituals before and after the killing (they ask for forgiveness), and how becoming a warrior is a learning process, a journey that culminates with the killing of the lion and the keeping of the lion’s mane. The learning process involves spending time alone in the wild, learning to imitate animal sounds, to find water, and subsisting on roots and wild berries. At the end of the presentation, Sabore performed the “hyena chant” for the audience.

Sabore explained that the Masai used to live in a state of semi-sedentarism, now restricted by the growth of urbanization and the confinement of Masai people to reservations. In the past, they would settle for certain periods of time, while the grass was suitable for the raising of cattle and then moving with the seasons; their huts were (and still are) made of sticks and cattle manure. In the present times, they have no choice but to live in the reservations.

Sabore wore his traditional Masai clothes and weapons. His garment consisted of a big animal skin and plaid clothes in red and blue, black, or white. Red seems to be the color that characterizes the Masai. He brought with him his sticks and sword, which he carries everywhere he goes.

During the presentation, Sabore also talked about the Masai “diet of milk, meat and blood derived from their cattle,” (Strayer, 2009) going into a detailed explanation of how the “village” got together for the butchering of animals for food. He explained that the butchered animal has to be consumed right away, and it’s consumed in its entirety (insides too). He also explained that the Masai go several days with just drinking milk: it is hard work to raise the cattle, so they do not eat meat every day.

Now, the presentation that I attended was geared to elementary school children, so the military aspects of the Masai people, their organization and conflicts that Strayer brings up in the book were tactfully spared. Still, it was a very charming presentation, and it was very interesting how Sabore patiently answered all the kids’ questions and connected with them. His calm nature and his huge smile had the kids’ attention the whole entire time. Towering at above 6 ft tall and in full traditional garments, he was at first intimidating, until he actually started sharing his culture and customs with a deep, sweet voice. My experience contrasts sharply with the "raiding and warfare" depicted in Strayer, but, again, I got the "Approved for all audiences" version of the Masai culture.

For a brief intro to Sabore, here is a video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UjArHyP238A

As a last bit of interesting info, when prompted by a kids' question Sabore said that he does not know how old he is, but he is considered an elder because of his knowledge, the fact that he studied, and the leadership he assumed for the advancement of his community.

Part 3: Reflections on Chapter 10

There were several points in Chapter 10 that I found interesting, so I will mention some of them here and then I will elaborate on just one of those aspects.

It is interesting to me how much of those early characteristics of Eastern Orthodoxy we have preserved well to this day in our society, considering the widespread of other religions and a continuously evolving globalization. In particular, it sounded very familiar when in the book it talks about “intolerance toward other religions” and “fear of Islam” (Strayer, 2009).

Also, particularly enlightening in this chapter was the account of the differences between Eastern Orthodoxy and Latin Christianity, something I always had difficulty understanding where they came from. As to Orthodox churches, I had the amazing opportunity to visit Russia a couple of years ago and I visited different churches, in the Kremlin and in other places. I can attest to the “extensive use of icons” and the fact that one “does not know if we are on Heaven or Earth.” The churches I visited were absolutely covered with images, even the ceilings. I imagine that the gold in the images must have given them an eerie look (in the sense of not form this Earth) under candlelight.

Now, to the point I decided to elaborate a bit. Not that it was a surprise to me, but it is still kind of disturbing how many aspects of religion were fabricated, such as selecting the birth of Jesus on December 25 to match the winter solstice (at least for the northern hemisphere, anyway-for the southern hemisphere is the opposite season). Not just Christianity did it, other religions did the same, the disturbing part is that some people believe in these fabricated dates… some people actually believe it was absolutely true that Jesus was born on December 25.

In that section of the book it also talks about how churches were built near or on existing sacred places, as well as how festivals and other dates that honored different deities became holy days; which reminded me of the Christendom of the Americas, in particular this aspect of “blending” Christianity and existing religious practices and symbols. Note to Strayer: a better term to designate a “hybrid” religion is syncretism, there was no need to dumb it down. The period of conversion to Catholicism, particularly in what became Spanish- and Portuguese-speaking America, lasted centuries, it began with converting the natives, and it continued with the slaves. Let’s look at Caribbean countries for example, which received a heavier influx of African slaves than southern Spanish-speaking countries. African slaves brought with them the rituals they practiced in their own African regions, which were ethnically different from each other. For example, the Yoruba, the Fon, and the Ewe came from Dahomey (Benin, Togo, and parts of Ghana and Nigeria), while the Kongo came from the Kongo-Angola region. Each of these peoples worshipped different deities, and had assigned a complex set of rituals for each deity, which even included different drumming patterns (music is strictly tied to the rituals, most of the African religions that made it to the Americas are danced religions). Santeria is a clear example of syncretism; it mixes Catholicism with Yoruba spirituality. The Yoruba Orishas (ancestral spirits) ended up associated with Catholic saints, and Santeria rituals display a mix of icons and African music. Shango (also spelled Chango or Xango), the god of thunder in the Yoruba tradition of Nigeria, ended up associated (and celebrated together with) Saint Barbara, who, what a coincidence (!) was the saint of the storms, and who also, oh! coincidence again! wears red and white, the traditional colors associated with Shango. They are both celebrated/honored on December 4. I guess my point is that several centuries later, the spreading Christian faith continued to use the same methods as it did in 1100, as described in the book: associating elements of the existing religion with those of Christianity, and if there were none, they got invented.



In the picture above, altar for Shango and Saint Barbara (and, yes, soetimes Shango is portrayed with three eyes)...

http://www.pantheon.org/articles/s/shango.html
http://www.uiowa.edu/~africart/toc/people/yoruba.html