Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Feeding the Family Ethnography Review


            We all have said at least once that we have nothing to eat in the fridge or there is no food around the house to eat. Sometimes we take for granted the basic things in our home. Food is one of our basic needs but it has so many levels to where it connects with our lives as a worker, a parent, a spouse and as an individual. The ethnography I chose to review is called “Feeding the Family: The Social Organization of Caring as Gendered Work” by Marjorie L. DeVault. This essay presents the deeper meaning of the roles of mostly women in their daily lives as a food provider and their job in feeding the family. One of the main points I want to address is the different strategies and thought processes women and some men go through when they have to provide for their spouses and children. It not only presents the anxieties that they experience but the way they view their work as well. I believe this ethnography change my perceptions of this gendered work and brought me to analyze the background story to how this came to be as well as relating it to my own experience with my mother as a family feeder.
            This ethnography takes the work of feeding the family through a journey of what defines it and analysis of it as an activity rather than a concept or emotion. DeVault explores the implications of "feeding the family" from the perspective of those who do that work. Along the way, DeVault offers a new vocabulary for discussing nurturance as a basis of group life and sociability. Drawing from interviews conducted in 1982-83 in a diverse group of American households, she reveals the effort and skill behind the "invisible" work of shopping, cooking, and serving meals. She then shows how this work can become oppressive for women, drawing them into social relations that construct and maintain their subordinate position in household life. This work was such an interesting research and I enjoyed it very much. One reason why I liked this work was because it reminded me of the work my mother did for my family and some of the things she has told me whenever she got stressed from doing housework was very similar to some of the findings in the ethnography. It made me feel empathetic toward my mother as well as my father for the work at home they have done for me and my family. I was very engaged with the reading because it gave me a larger understanding toward something that I have overlooked my whole life; at least in the way that was presented in the ethnography. One thing I did right after reading the first few chapters of the book was call up my mother to talk to her about the material I learned in the ethnography. It was funny and amazing how much she understood what the author was presenting. My mother told me she was glad that I got to read about the one thing she does every day and thanks me for my appreciation for her work in the house.
            This ethnography’s main point of how the work of feeding a family presents this image of womanhood confirms my understanding of genderized work in our society. One example from the work showed how feeding the family is a pattern at home. One woman in the interviews said “It’s just routine to me. It’s just all up there, you know. Just what comes natural. It’s just a part of – just like, my work” (DeVault 57). This is exactly how my mother described her work in the kitchen. She has this organized structure of what to make and when to make it in order for the day to go smoothly. Whenever I am just sitting at home, my mother is constantly moving around. She sometimes talks to herself indicating certain times she needs to push the button for the rice cooker or what to take out of the freezer to cook.
One idea in the ethnography that I want to bring light into is the concept of feeding viewed as women’s work. DeVault showed findings in women doing the feeding not as a simple and mindless chore but as a coordinated and organized structure of work. Some couples believed “…cooking is, at least in part, activity that comes with mothering a young child” (DeVault 102). As one can see, feeding a family is apparently conjoined with the work of raising a child. This gendered view of what is considered the woman’s work demonstrates how much is rested upon their shoulders due to the similarities between the different household works. This specific point in the book reminded me of a similar issue of women’s roles in society in the article Endangering safe motherhood in Mozambique: prenatal care as pregnancy risk by Rachel Chapman. She discussed the women’s failing reproductive roles and health due to poverty. “It is proposed that women respond actively to social and economic pressures they believe constitute the greatest threats to their reproductive health and unborn infants” (Chapman 356). This clearly demonstrates how the women’s nature is perceived in the society in regards to their family. I saw the connection between these two works as since women already have the role of birthing, they must take up the follow up roles as well as cleaning and cooking. The pressure to act in accordance to these norms of a woman results in this concept of genderized work. Following up with DeVault’s explanation, I agree with her interpretation because I see this daily at home when I see my mother cooking. In fact, I believe in many households, the woman most likely has this job at home which they find ways to coordinate their kitchen tasks. Thus, society then and now have this structure of what kind of care is considered to be a woman’s kind of work.
Another idea I want to present is DeVault’s role and perspectives in her work. I find it very important to identify what the author discovers and how she does it. Her role in this work is clearly defined as an interviewer and data gatherer on the different responses given by both women and men of the family. DeVault’s goal was to talk to women of different relationship status and financial situation to understand their perspectives with their roles as the feeder of the family. The different voices and perspectives come through from the ethnographer herself, who provides analysis and interpretation of the women’s experiences, and the women who explain their roles in their family and what they think of it based on their statuses economically and relationship-wise. These are used by women telling stories of a certain experience to explain their emotions of the labor they do not just as women but as a mother and a wife as well. Throughout the ethnography, DeVault diffuses analyses of each woman’s experience with cooking. I believe that this is one of the strengths of her piece because DeVault talked to women of different situations in their thoughts and feelings of the work they do for their family. It really demonstrates how similar and different they are with the care they have for their family and also how they deal with the hardships that they go through.
            One thing that I thought about this work was that it is not about a global health issue because it is not something that can really be fixed. The ethnography mainly gives a foundation to what women do and how they respond to those activities. Rather than a health issue, it is more like an educational understanding of a common episode we see every day. DeVault is presenting acknowledgement for readers. “This perplexing situation is a puzzle missing a piece, and that piece is the acknowledgement of caring work in all its complexity, as activity deeply compelling for those who do it and critically important for group life” (DeVault 3). Although it does not negatively affect other people’s health, this work contributes to the work of society in general because it is a daily process in every home. Every mother and wife would know this experience of taking responsibility to care for their family by providing meals on the table or cleaning the house. It is an international language in a way because it is a common task for every family.
Another idea that interested me is the discussion of affluence and poverty with the women in their households. Economy is a large factor in how the women are successful in feeding their families and the methods they go by. It is obvious that higher class would be able to afford more food and a variety of choices while the lower class can only afford so much. DeVault had a very important point from the conclusions she came up with due to these differences. “In families with more resources, food becomes an arena for self-expression, providing a chance to experience family as a reward for achievement in poor families, feeding and eating are themselves the achievement” (DeVault 201). It may seem like these gaps in financial status just look black and white but the way these people express themselves in these situations define who they are as a worker, parent and a caring individual in general. I agree with her statement because it is a different way to view the concept of feeding the family. Looking at it in a different angle really opens my mind to how these women go about their lives while being a homemaker and how they respond to these situations.
I found this ethnography fascinating and relatable in some ways. Not only does this apply to women who feed their family, it applies to those who are affected by the work of the women doing the feeding. One possible use of this ethnography is to provide an insider look on what these women do and how it affects their lives. It gives a great background and an empathetic feeling toward them that will result in appreciating them more. This would work especially for children when they are old enough to understand and men. I know that after reading this, I feel so thankful to have a mother who has worked hard to feed me and my family. It would open everyone’s eyes to see the behind the scenes in the kitchen. There is a section in the ethnography that explained the term “invisible work” that the women do at home. DeVault explains that “... [w]e find clues to the invisible work of feeding in people’s accounts, as they refer to their planning toward family meals. Though preparation time is bounded, the strategizing that supports preparation extends throughout the day” (DeVault 56). This is very important to realize because it reflects the constant thinking that these mothers and wives do and it does not stop.
All in all, this essay points out the importance of the invisible work that women do in feeding their family. Not only does it present the different emotions and types of duties each woman has but how they deal with it in each of their unique circumstances. I discovered that the caring work of feeding a family is a lot more complex and exhausting than it seems. No one truly understands what goes through a mother’s head when thinking up a strategy for preparing meals or organizing a time frame in her busy schedule with the needs of her children and husband. Therefore, this essay and the ethnography itself highlight the many tribulations these women go through and encourage readers to recognize and appreciate them. The genderizing of the caring work can bring a sense of revelation once people put themselves in their shoes. DeVault brilliantly displays the representation of a particular group of women through interviews and demonstrates that speaking up about the understanding of women’s work “…is a move toward fuller representation of women’s multiple interests […] and producing connection and sociability” (DeVault 243). It is about time to make a difference about the care of women’s work beginning right in our own home.




Works Cited

Chapman, Rachel R. "Endangering Safe Motherhood in Mozambique: Prenatal Care as Pregnancy Risk." Social Science & Medicine 2003: 355-74. Web.

DeVault, Marjorie L. Feeding the Family: The Social Organization of Caring as Gendered Work. Chicago: University of Chicago, 1991. Print.

TAHITI BEYOND THE POSTCARD: AN ETHNOGRAPHIC REVIEW


When one considers the south pacific island of Tahiti, images of white-sand beaches, turquoise lagoons and exotic women permeate the mind. This “postcard image” of Tahiti masks a different reality that most outsiders are unaware of. Past colonial influences and nuclear testing has scarred the landscape and indigenous people and the outsider’s dream of Tahiti masks the neglected medical maladies and environmental disasters that have been inflicted by nuclear testing.

In Dr. Miriam Kahn’s ethnography “Tahiti Beyond the Postcard: Power, Place, and Everyday Life”, the reader examines the struggle for Tahitian cultural identity through early fantasies that were influenced by colonialism, cold war nuclear testing, and the current image produced by today's tourism industry. The fierce dichotomy between foreigners and natives are told in relation to historical perspectives.

Kahn’s ethnography is a holistic view into the cultural identity of the Tahitian people that leaves nothing to be desired. As a personal favorite of mine, I find that this ethnography makes me question my own cultural identity in relation to historical events and perspectives and challenge the very notion of what it means to be subjected to structural violence. The ethnographic descriptions of nuclear testing are profoundly powerful, and one cannot help but sympathize with the people of Tahiti, who are themselves slaves to modernization. Kahn’s success in conveying such a powerful message is due in part to the narrative that expresses the foreign and native perspectives in French Polynesia in a way that the reader is able to grasp what is at stake for both sides.

HISTORICAL PERSPECTIVES

In the mid-1700’s, many Europeans, intimately versed in biblical references to paradise, began to search the pacific ocean in search of utopia. Kahn articulates that long before Europeans set foot on the island, early images of Tahiti were “deeply influenced by imperialist ambitions and philosophical speculation” (Kahn, 33). In French Philosopher Jean-Jacques Rosseau’s book, “discours sur l'origine de l'inégalité parmi les homes” (discourse on the origin of inequality among men), he painted this image of an idyllic society in which all men are equal and lived in balance with nature, he christened this society as a gathering of the “noble savage” (Kahn, 32). In 1767, British explorer Samuel Wallis became the first European to land on Tahiti, “Wallis and his men bartered beads, mirrors, and nails (which Tahitians specially coveted for making fishhooks) in exchange for food and sex” (Kahn, 33). This exchange exacerbated Rosseau’s “noble savage” myth, which generated embellished stories, including the story of the HMS Dolphin that nearly fell apart as sailors pulled nails from the ship. This prompted the Tahitian leaders to believe that they could “tame” foreign ships by sending women out in canoes to offer themselves to sailors.

After contact with the Tahitians, numerous exotic images began to circulate after painters depicted vast landscapes and loose women. In 1797, this prompted Catholic and British protestant missionaries to the island to change the indigenous lifestyle. Missionaries banned dancing, singing, and the worship of ancient Tahitian deities (Kahn, 39). The missionaries paved the way for stronger colonial foothold. Kahn argues that “France altered the geography of Tahiti to suit its needs for national security and economic growth” (Kahn, 40). Under the colonial power of France, Tahiti served as a maritime station, serving as places for French military and commercial vessels to be refueled and resupplied and a nuclear testing site (Kahn, 41).

NUCLEAR TOURISM

In the early 1960’s, Tahiti experienced two major changes. France relocated their nuclear testing program from Algeria to French Polynesia and the worldwide intensification of mass tourism. Kahn says “this contradictory phenomena- which created destruction and nightmares on one hand, and dreams and fantasies on the other- became deeply entertained in French Polynesia’s political economy. Now representations of a seductive paradise served new purposes.” She speculates that the imagery of paradise was engineered to “divert attention from the nuclear testing program by creating a veil behind which dire consequences of the testing could be hidden” (Kahn, 61). According to Dr. Kahn, control is a key element. This allows a screening of the “mess” of reality. While exploring the realm of successful tourism campaigns, Kahn uses the idea of a cocoon as a protective shield. She reasons that each tourist employs to keep away the aspects of daily life that aren’t desirable; these cocoons are nurtured by tour guides and travel agencies. They unknowingly help tourists interpret their experience and give them information to help them produce their fantasies.

In the summer of 2012, while I was conducting research on the repercussions of nuclear testing in French Polynesia, I would examine the few tourists that visit the island. There were mostly French citizens who vacationed in fancy resorts that were staffed by Tahitian workers. They traveled by bus and inhabited closed spaces that locals were banned from. Private, pristine beaches were serviced by locals who were unable to enjoy the fruits of their labor by swimming at the beaches. Instead, locals swam in beaches covered in hardened volcanic ash and broken coral pieces. The tourism industry boasts the biggest industry in the world and the movement of people continues to escalate as places and politics more interconnected. The Fa’a international airport, which opened in 1960, was originally created for the French to transfer personnel and nuclear material but currently serve the thousands of tourists that travel through there annually. Many of these tourists are ignorant to this fact. Kahn says that the “production of imagery that reinforces the myth is critically important to the economy of French Polynesia” (Kahn, 77). It is severely important to note that exploding nuclear bombs in the atmosphere and altering the environment to create artificial paradises are not how Tahitians would behave toward the land. This prompted a fierce ongoing struggle about how place is understood, used, respected, and represented.

TAHITIAN PERSPECTIVES

Kahn described the tension between local and foreign perspectives of the land as a battle, characterized as a “struggle between conceiving space through representation and living place through actual sensual experience” (Kahn, 61). For Tahitians, their cultural identity is rooted in the land, “Tahitian’s experience their land… as alive with procreative powers and nurturing abilities.    The Ma’ohi (the indigenous term for Tahitians) notions of place define the complications in struggle over the land, Kahn articulates, “In Polynesia, land figures as equivalent to one’s own body and family rather than as an inanimate object” (Kahn, 62-63).

The land provides Tahitians with basic needs for survival and childcare, which prompts many Tahitians to see it as a mother figure. The most poignant evidence of their beliefs is demonstrated by the Tahitian custom of burying a child’s placenta and umbilical cord “in the belly of the bountiful mother”.  A Huahine woman named Marama Teiho explained:

“The placenta is always replanted in the earth. When a child is in the womb the mother takes care of the child, but when it is born the mother asks the land to take care of her child. The land will give life to the child by providing food…You can bury the placenta and then move away. It doesn’t matter where you live because you are still connected to your family’s land” (Kahn, 66)

In Gay Becker’s article, “Metaphors in Disrupted Lives: Infertility and Cultural Constructions of Continuity”, he states that order begins with the body. Centrality of the body is how individuals construct meaning and how order is constructed through bodily knowledge. In the case of Kahn’s ethnography, Becker’s idea of bodily knowledge is evident in this maternal practice. The body (which is symbolically represented by the mothers placenta or the infants umbilical cord) is buried deep in the ground.

CULTURAL ASSIMILATION AND RESISTENCE

Today, French Polynesia remains a colony of France. The local people have adopted the French language and have employed them in governmental proceedings, education systems, and necessary employment criteria. In order for an individual to be successful in school, he or she must master the French language. The Tahitian language is only taught in university classrooms or in an individual’s household. This past summer, I met a 25-year-old Tahitian man named Mahei who was stuck at a crossroads. He had completed schooling in Huahine (an island three hours away from the island of Tahiti) and the only way for him to continue would be to travel to France for further training. A venture that is strongly discouraged by his grandparents, who require his help with the family farm, and his parents who fear he would return “French”. Mahei continues life canoe racing, Tahitian dancing, and making more, (the decorative grass skirts used in cultural festivals). The process of assimilation into the life of a French citizen is met by resistance and results in limited economic opportunities for the Tahitians. Throughout the history of Tahiti, the main exports have always been visions and illusions. This has been made possible due to the growing tourism industry but the material conditions of Tahitian living are absent.

FURTHER ANALYSIS

While Kahn’s ethnography does contain many strong points, I find the issues discussed in the ethnography to be beyond what any worldly citizen is able to influence. It is a call to action that negates to mention a formal plan of action; instead it influences deep discussion and further dissection of the destruction of a whole cultural identity.  In Susan Scrimshaw’s article “International Public Health”, Scrimshaw states that culture is constantly modified through lived experiences which dictates that “culture is not static on either the group or individual level, because people are constantly changing. This concept helps allow for cultural change as people migrate… acquire additional education and experiences, and as conditions change around them” (Scrimshaw, 44). The Schrimshaw article begs further critique of this ethnography, is culture-found equal to culture-loss? In Kahn’s discussion of Tahitian cultural identity; culture is presented as harmonious when static but subject to harmful fluidity and foreign assimilation.

The issues presented in the ethnography are ongoing political struggles that have culminated in a love/hate relationship that the Tahitians have toward the French. Seen as the responsible of the death of their culture and their economic liberators, the relationship between two groups have grown rather complex. The process of colonization, though constantly met with opposition, has inhabited the mind of every Tahitian and their desire for economic liberties denies them the ability to be “fully Tahitian”. They must concede to French education, language, and mannerisms in order to fiscally support their household. This helps the reader sympathize with the Tahitian community. It is very easy to demonize France for the seemingly neglectful treatment of French Polynesia but it is important to note that France considers French Polynesia to be a part of their empire as well. For the French government, it was an extension of their lands, supported for their economic growth and national security needs.

Although this book does not explicitly detail a global health issue, it does touch upon different cultural perspectives. During the thirty year reign of nuclear testing in the French Polynesian island of Moruroa, many Tahitians were offered three times the normal salary to work in the nuclear testing site. Without proper knowledge of what the government was doing, the Tahitian workers were ordered to walk outside and examine the fallout of nuclear testing, collect nuclear material, and ordered to halt cultural activities (such as fishing, swimming, and hunting) without a governmental explanation. The result has been a catastrophic increase in cancer rates, something that the Tahitian workers have been unable to have recognized in French legal courts.

CONCLUSION

Racial tensions of the “conqueror” and the “noble savage” are brought to the forefront as the reader examines relations between both groups during colonization, nuclear testing, and the exploitation of tourism in French Polynesia. Dr. Kahn enlists the help of Tahitian activists, artists, governmental officials and oppressed natives to tell the story of Tahitian fight for independence and autonomy. She serves as a vigorous advocate that calls the reader’s attention to human rights abuses and demands action. This ethnography is especially important for understanding the construction of culture in the face of modernization and exploitation. It can be used in cultural studies as a lesson in cultural humility. It outlines the perception of health for Tahitians as intricately tied to the land they inhabit. For Tahitians, the land is a spiritual figure that supports life and for the western world, land represents capital and financial opportunities. The entire ethnography is about breaking down misconceptions, Tahitians pay no mind to the “Tahiti of western imagination” while the relationship also works inversely, western societies pay no mind to the material realities of Tahitian living.

 

BIBLIOGRAPHY

1.      Kahn, Miriam. Tahiti Beyond the Postcard: Power, Place and Everyday Life. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2011. Print.

2.      Errington, Frederick, and Deborah Gewertz. "Tourism and Anthropology in a Post-Modern World." Oceania. 60.1 (1989): Pages 37-54. Print.

3.      MacConnell, Dean. The Tourist: A New Theory of the Leisure class. New York: Schoden, 1976 Pages 91-107. Print.

4.      Becker, G. (1994). Metaphors in disrupted lives: Infertility and cultural constructions of continuity . Medical Anthropology Quarterly , 8(4), 383-410. Retrieved from http://www.jstor.org/stable/649087

5.      Scrimshaw, Susan (2001). “Culture, Behavior and Health”. In International Public Health. M.H. Merson, R.E. Black and A.J. Mills, eds. Gaithersburg, Maryland: Aspen. Pp 53-77.
Situating Violence in Mozambique


A Different Kind of War Story is an ethnography by Carolyn Nordstrom about her time spent in Mozambique during their civil war.  As she explains in her book, Carolyn is more interested in studying a process rather than a locale, and this fieldwork is about interrogating civil war and violence rather than Mozambique itself.  As she discusses the realities of, and theories behind, the violent acts she encounters and hears about, Carolyn begins to construct an idea of violence that describes it as both contested and culturally constructed.  Violence, like anything else, is tied to culture, politics and power among other things.  How it is dealt with and how groups and individuals reconstruct their lives after acts of violence depend on their ideas of the causes and effects of violence.  One of the ideas that I found most interesting in this ethnography is the atypical understanding of many Mozambicans that violenc is an illness and as an illness it can be treated using traditional African medicine.

            This book begins with a discussion of violence- what it is and how our definitions of it influence the possibilities for how we can talk about it.  In A Different Kind of War Story Carolyn likens it to power in that

“…violence is essentially contested: everyone knows it exists, but no one agrees on what actually constitutes the phenomenon.  Vested interests, personal history, ideological loyalties, propaganda, and a dearth of first-hand experience or information ensure that many published definitions of frontline violence are powerful fictions and negotiated half-truths.” (Nordstrom, 6)  

She continues to say that many of our ideas of violence are based on writings and stories- in other words representations- rather than experience.  This institutionalized definition of violence allows for the control of what does and does not constitute violence.  In Mozambique, the decades long civil war has directly or indirectly affected almost everyone in the country, causing this shared experience of violence to connect Mozambicans to each other in ways that representations of violence can never accomplish.

            The history behind Mozambique and their civil war as represented by Carolyn Nordstrom starts in the colonial period.  Mozambique was a colony of Portugal until 1975 which is the year that they gained independence.  Frelimo is the Mozambican group that advocated for independence through armed resistance and became the governing body once independence was attained.  Their ideology is described as “scientific socialism.” (Nordstrom, 55)  The idea of an African socialist government was threatening to other governments present in Africa at the time including apartheid Rhodesia and South Africa, who set up and funded a resistance movement named Renamo shortly after the independence of Mozambique.  The war became reified as a struggle between Frelimo and Renamo and their competing ideologies even though neither of these groups were a single entity with much central control.  Adding to this were the various other actors in the war including splinter groups, bandits, militia, foreign advisors and arms merchants.

            Another major theme in this book is the ways in which people reconstitute their identity after acts of violence and the creative process this entails.  During the civil war, much of the population of Mozambique was displaced and lost their land along with members of their family.  People’s daily activities and interactions are a major factor in how we constitute identity and self and these are strongly tied to land and community.  When these daily practices are severed by violence, individuals’ lives, and therefore their identities, are powerfully reconfigured.  In many places, including Mozambique, this reconstitution of identity involves the reproduction of violence.  This has been happening as a result of violence due to the civil war, Portuguese colonial occupation, and events prior to both.  One way that communities in Mozambique have creatively rebuilt without reproducing violence is tied to traditional African medicine in which violence is viewed as an illness.  According to Carolyn Nordstrom, the majority of Mozambicans saw violence similarly to how it was described to her by a healer.

“People have just seen too much war, too much violence- they have gotten the war in them.  We treat this, we have to- if we don’t take the war out of the people, it will just continue on and on, past Renamo, past the end of the war, into the communities, into the families, to ruin us.” (Nordstrom, 214)    

            The ways in which many of these communities in Mozambique view health and illness run counter to global hegemonic ideas.  In doing this, they allow for different possibilities regarding community rebuilding and resistance to violence.  The prevailing institutionalized global view on health tends to come from the perspective of biomedicine, which uses science to define and treat illness.  This dominating view is tied to the power of who funds and therefore controls global health institutions as well as who creates, as and has access to, this knowledge.  According to John Janzen “More complex institutional forms of teaching and practice create a cushion of legitimacy around medical knowledge.” (Janzen, 208)  This institutionalization of health tends to treat illnesses with scientifically backed etiologies, such as HIV and polio, as more legitimate than illnesses that deal with social problems, such as violence. 

            These ideas of health and illness come from how we structure our ideas about the causes of illness, and the creation and dominance of certain ideas over others are based in power.  In the biomedical perspective, illness comes from diseases which are apolitical and can affect anyone in relatively random patterns.  There are many social factors to the transmission and effects of diseases on individuals, but when the problem is framed in biomedical terms these factors can be largely ignored.  “Traditional African medicine” as described by Carolyn Nordstrom was more flexible in that it is “dedicated to healing, protection, and re-creation at all levels of socio-cultural life.” (Nordstrom, 209) 

            In our separation of medicine and social problems, we create the possibilities for both.  Even though our own ideas on these subjects are globally dominant, they create radically different realities for us and for the people of Mozambique.  In both places our practices of health and community enforce and reproduce the ‘truths’ that we believe in.  According to Carolyn Nordstrom

“Chiefly power in Mozambique is strongly tied to the power of African medicine, which ensures the physical and mental health of Mozambicans as well as protecting the political and social health of the entire community.” (Nordstrom, 100)

This view of health as holistic takes into account a person’s overall well-being and allows for the possibility of including social and political factors into the causes and the cure.  This is useful because illness does not occur in a vacuum- there are many social and cultural aspects that influence it. 

            In Mozambique the idea of violence as a disease allowed for more local control over their communities and their daily lives.  The factors contributing to the civil war were many and they included numerous international and national political determinants.  Violence as viewed solely as a byproduct of these political and ideological clashes places the cure for violence in the hands of these ideologies, many of which had no real impact on the everyday structure of these communities.  Violence as a product of politics causes individuals to support one side or the other, and a compromise of politics is necessary for the fighting to end.  When violence is viewed as a disease that can be healed by traditional medicine, this places the cure into the hands of the community themselves and allows for them to resist against violence itself rather than a certain ideology. 

            This idea of giving agency to people is especially important in Mozambique where violent acts commonly reconfigured daily lives.  This helps us to better understand questions surrounding violence, especially ones such as whose definition of violence is most true.  All knowledge is situated, but whose voice is heard is tied to power.  In situations like the civil war in Mozambique the narratives that emerge often come from the political elite, who may frame the conflict as a clash of ideologies, or from our own ‘experts’ on African affairs.   The voices of the people most afflicted by these acts of violence are very rarely brought to the forefront.  As James Pfeiffer and Mark Nichter argue of anthropology

“We can help ensure that the evidence base that frames global health debates is inclusive and represents multiple dimensions of the human experience, including the voices of those whose lives are affected by global processes.” (Pfeiffer and Nichter, 413)     

This is an important aspect of Carolyn Nordstrom’s book A Different Kind of War Story.  It gives a voice to individuals and communities that are most affected by violence.  This is especially important considering that this violence is influenced by global hegemonic political practices. 

            Another way in which Mozambicans connect ideas of healing and social practices is in the way they tie social power to medicine.  As mentioned above by Carolyn Nordstrom, chiefly power is tied to medicine as well as social and political factors of illness.  This reinforces an idea of health as a holistic approach to a person’s and a community’s well-being.  It also allows for the idea that a problem with an individual’s health is not necessarily an abnormality as we seem to perceive when viewing a problem from a biomedical perspective.  Biomedicine attempts to treat diseases by categorizing them and using an ‘objective’ idea of normal with which to compare them to.  But this decontextualizing and categorizing of problems imparts legitimacy to issues that can be explained using the scientific framework of biomedicine over issues that cannot be explained this way.  As Mark Nichter points out through the voice of a practitioner of Ayurveda,

“You cannot just treat diseases, you have to treat bodies, and you cannot just treat bodies unless you understand the lives bodies have become accustomed to living.” (Nichter, 25)  

By allowing for a more encompassing view of health that involves social and political issues and a deeper understanding of the causes and effects of health problems, this Mozambican approach seeks to place ideas of illness into the context of everyday life in order to better understand more of the factors which influence well-being. 

            These ideas of health are not without some problems though.  The same spiritual mediums and African medicine that were a part of fighting violence, and in turn oppressive rule, can have negative consequences on individual’s health.  As Rachel Chapman points out in her article, the largest factor in not seeking prenatal care for the pregnant women she talked to in Mozambique was the fear of “personalistic reproductive threats posed by sorcery and mal espirito.” (Chapman, 366)  Many of these women did not seek biomedical care, which they knew could have positive impacts on their own health and the health of their children, even though it was readily available.  The reasoning behind this is based in African medicine and spirituality.  However, as Rachel discusses later on, this reasoning is used to explain social factors that have real consequences on the mothers and their families, factors with which biomedicine does not engage with.  Many of these factors originate from a conflict between local ideas of community and responsibility, and larger geopolitical practices that are outside the control of the individuals within the community.   

            This is not to say that ideas of African medicine and its connection to local power in Mozambique do not have their own problems.  In every community power is structured so that some people have more access to it than others.  But the ways in which we perceive ideas, such as violence, are culturally situated and have an effect on how they are reproduced.  Who defines what violence is and how it should be dealt with?  The idea of violence, as it exists in some places in Mozambique, is that it is an illness that needs to be addressed by a community.  This comes from not only thinking about it, but from experiencing it.  How can we say that this way of understanding violence is any less true without actually having experienced it ourselves?

            Through over two decades of experiencing violence, from a war against colonial oppression to a civil war over ideological differences, many Mozambicans have gained a much deeper understanding of the realities of violence than most people will ever have.  While experiences of violence are individual, there was a culture of violence, survival and creative resistance that was shared by most in Mozambique.  In an attempt to deal with the consequences of this on the everyday realities of individuals and communities, and the myriad factors which influenced it, many local leaders situated violence in the context of African medicine as an illness.  This helped many in Mozambique to reconstruct their identities and to situate the experiences they had of violence in a coherent world, which allowed them to resume a normal life despite all they had been through. 

 

Nordstrom, Carolyn. A different kind of war story. University of Pennsylvania Press, 1997.

Janzen, John M. The social fabric of health: An introduction to medical anthropology. McGraw Hill, 2002.

Pfeiffer, James, and Mark Nichter. "What can critical medical anthropology contribute to global health?." Medical anthropology quarterly 22.4 (2008): 410-415.

Nichter, Mark. Global health: Why cultural perceptions, social representations, and biopolitics matter. University of Arizona Press, 2008.

Chapman, Rachel R. "Endangering safe motherhood in Mozambique: prenatal care as pregnancy risk." Social Science & Medicine 57.2 (2003): 355-374.

           

Ethnography Review: Consequential Damages of Nuclear War (2011)


Ethnogrophy Review
By
Crystal Vergin
Dr. A. CERON
ANTH 215
11/14/12

Crystal Vergin
Dr. A. CERON
ANTH 215
11/14/12

Ethnogrophy Review:The Rongelap Report: Consequential Damages of Nuclear War (2011)

On March 1,1954 the Castle Bravo bomb was detonated on Bikini atoll, Bravo was a 1,000 times more powerful than the bomb dropped on Hiroshima. The inhabited island of Rongelap lay just 100 miles from where the 15-megaton bomb was dropped (Johnston and Barker 2011,15,17). The inhabitants of Rongelap received near lethal doses of radiation during the Bravo event and were continually exposed to radiation through their environment. Instead of receiving badly needed treatment for radiation poisoning the U.S. government used the Rongelapese as human test subjects. In the Rongelap Report: Consequential Damages of Nuclear War (2011), the atrocities of the U.S. government nuclear testing programs from 1946 to 1954 are revealed. The use of these proving grounds in the Pacific Ocean caused major irrevocable damage to the people and the environment by permanently changing the landscape of the atolls through blasting and irradiated fallout. Johnston and Barker play an intricate part as ethnographers in presenting the findings of this ethnography to The Nuclear Claims Tribunal in 2001(Johnston and Barker 2011,225). This ethnography is an excellent example of applied and public anthropology. This work gives focus to events that happened almost 60 years ago and shows how those events are still affecting the Marshallese people and their environment today.
The purpose of this work was to find “culturally appropriate strategies for assessing the value of land in a nonmarket environment” and to “identify[ing] the consequential damages and losses experienced by the people of Rongelap”(Johnston and Barker 2011,48). In this way Barker and Johnston assess the situation from an alternate, but scientific view. This report uncovers the gross mistreatment of the Rongleapese at the hands of the U.S. government, their repeated exposure to radiation through testing and their environment despite being reassured by the U.S. government that it was safe to return to their atoll system. This has resulted in a total loss of a way of life, not just the loss of land but altering “health, subsistence strategies, sociopolitical organization, and community integrity” (Johnston and Barker 2011, 33,43). This report served to inform the Nuclear Claims Tribunal hearing in 2001 but was also used by the UN Human Rights Council and is referenced in the UN report regarding ongoing human rights violations (Holly Barker, e-mail message to the author, November 10,2012). This report also documents the misuse of the Marshallese as human test subjects by the U.S. government in ongoing human-environmental experiments. While the Marshallese knew they were being studied after their exposure they did not know that they were human subjects and merely being studied and not treated for their radiation sickness. Informed consent was never provided and many individuals were coerced or even bodily forced to participate. This even extended to what the government referred to as the “controls” that were to serve as a control group for “Project 4.1- the Study of Response of Human Beings Exposed to Significant Beta and Gamma Radiation Due to Fallout from High Yield Weapons”(Johnston and Barker 2011, 105).  During all of the Project 4.1 experimentation, the Marshallese culture, traditions and taboos were broken. Women and men were exposed to one another’s naked bodies, foods that were staples to the Marshallese diet became poisonous and after the self imposed exile of 1985, the elders can no longer pass on the traditional lifeway to the next generation. Because of the contamination on Rongelap and the extremely crowded conditions on the other Marshall Islands burial has become a problem.
To gather information for the Report (2011) Holly Barker worked in collaboration with Marshallese sociologist Tina Stege and others to interview informants for testimony. As a result of this collaboration the anthropologists have a passive voice, Barker and Johnston act as facilitators. In 1994 during the Clinton administration the Marshallese benefited from a declassification order; allowing access to documents that had been secret since the 1950’s. With access to these documents Johnston and Barker were able to demonstrate that the Marshallese had been used in a wide-range of experiments, “including purposeful intent to involve the population of Ronglelap in long-term human-environmental studies on the hazards of fallout” (Johnston and Barker 2011,53). The voice of the Marshallese first-hand accounts are used to great advantage to illustrate how horrific their experience of the event and the following years of suffering impact their culture holistically and their day to day lives. Since 1954 the Marshallese people have suffered at the hands of the U.S. government. First as human test subjects then when the government no longer had any use for them, to be tossed aside and hushed, while they tried and failed to seek government aide for radiation related illnesses, cancer and the intergenerational mutagenic affects of high dose radiation. It is sickening to think that the U.S. government was using human test subjects at roughly the same time the Nuremburg Trials were happening.
Analysis
From the beginning this ethnography was for the Marshallese people, this work fit the needs of the community, not the needs of the anthropologists. The anthropologists were invited by the “NCT Public Advocate Bill Graham to prepare this report” and the research on land valuation was designed by the Marshallese people (Johnston and Barker 2011,15). This project was collaborative and driven by the native community not the anthropologists. This project did more than “doing no harm” but actually did help as Borofsky urges in Why a Public Anthropology? (2011). The Rongelap Report (2011) has many elements of public anthropology. It takes a large problem in a small part of the world and applies anthropological methods and theories to help solve problems and bring public attention to the plight of a people who have been under duress for many years at the hands of a government that would like to forget about them.
When the U.S. government detonated Castle Bravo, they poisoned a people but also a way of life, an entire ecosystem. The people of Rongelap did not just subsist on one small island but relied on the atoll system to sustain them. There were specific places where the islanders collected eggs from seabirds, certain reefs that were good for catching specific fish and many sacred places. The people where stewards of the land, they tended the pandanus trees the breadfruit trees, and the coconut trees. The coconut was used for trade with passing ships, and arrowroot; another staple food was ground into flour and could be kept for many months (Johnston and Barker 2011,79). After the testing all of these resources became poisonous. Interviewees describe epileptic like seizures from eating the contaminated food, and developing oral blisters and throat swelling. By eating fish that had in turn eaten radioactive plankton the radiation exposure of the Marshallese people was compounded (Johnston and Barker 2011,119,121)  
The Marshallese people face health disparities both on the islands and in the U.S. health system. There are two sources for healthcare open to the Marshallese on the islands, the DOE (Department of Energy) and the 177 programs. The DOE will cover anyone who lived on the islands of Rongelap or Ujurik on the day of the Bravo event. This health coverage only will cover illness that is considered radiological by the DOE. There are only about 90 people still alive that actually could qualify for this coverage. The 177 program covers any persons for the four Bikini atolls but the budget for this program is so small that there is only $7.50 per patient per month for medical care (Barker, Lecture 10/26/12). In the epilogue of the Rongelap Report (2011) Almira Matayoshi’s testimony includes a description of her hand gestures. When describing how she is sent back and forth between the two programs, she pushes at the air from right to left, a back and forth motion; going from one to the other program and never receiving the treatment she desperately needs (Johnston and Barker 2011, 233). In the U.S. the Marshallese often do not qualify for basic DSHS health insurance and this basic insurance only covers emergency care, not preventive medicine. In working with the Marshallese community in the Northwest, I have observed that preventative care is of vital importance to a population who is at risk for, high blood pressure, cancer and diabetes.
The Marshallese story is still a globally relevant one even if it is 60 years old. The Marshallese would be leading very different lives if the government had taken responsibility; or if in an effort to rectify the situation had admitted wrong doing and pledged transparency moving forward. Sadly uninformed persons are still being used in this same way by C.R.O’s the world over, but especially in countries like India with a large population of extremely poor and illiterate persons (Ceron, Lecture and in class video 11/7/12).
Today the Marshallese are still struggling with global health issues, poverty, and lack of sufficient health care. Because there are no Oncologists on the Marshall Islands and no mental health professionals, there is great physical and mental suffering. Many people who gave interviews to Holly Barker and testimony at the 2001 Tribunal have since passed away. Their passing was marked by much anguish from their families and in their community. Almira Matayoshi had travelled to the Hawaiian Islands to seek cancer treatment and sadly passed away alone, without her family by her side. Other Marshallese, without the means to travel for healthcare are forced to suffer on the islands without treatment (Barker, Lecture 11/7/12).  
Conclusion
From beginning to end, this ethnography was informed by the community and augmented by the anthropologists. This is a practical work that works for the people that it is about, for the good of those people. The Rongelap Report brings the plight of the Marshallese to the attention of the public and more importantly to the attention of the institutions that could and should help rectify the wrongs these people have endured. For these reasons, this ethnography is an excellent example of public and applied anthropology at work. The American Anthropological Association also felt that this was an import work and awarded Dr. Johnston the Lourdes Arizpe Award, for engaging environmental issues and policy.
For the Marshallese people still living in the Marshall Islands their way of life remains dramatically changed by the events of nearly 60 years ago, their atoll system is still contaminated. Recently the U.S. government has cleaned up a small portion of one part of Rongelap Island and encouraged the people to move back, but the rest of the atoll system is still contaminated and will not support their former way of life (Lecture, Holly Barker 10/26/12). They have no reason to trust what the U.S. government, despite the government’s assurance that the “clean” part of the island is safe.
 I have been in contact with Dr. Barker and know that both before this report and after she has continued to work with and for the Marshallese people.  As a student of Dr. Barker’s I have been in direct contact with the Marshallese community here in the Northwest. I am currently working on a group project to research the health needs of the Marshallese in our area that will inform the Asian and Pacific Islander American Health Forum representative in Washington D.C. Health disparities are of special concern, especially for Marshallese who have come to the U.S. Many Marshallese are still lacking basic preventative health care, relying on emergency room care when poor health reaches a crisis point. As Borofsky suggests it can be the work of the anthropologist to inform the public on these issues and help find solutions.



 

 

 

 

 

 




Works Cited

American Anthropological Association, CoPAPIA, “Lourdes Arizpe Award.” Accessed November 13,2012. http://www.aaanet.org/cmtes/copapia/Arizpe.cfm
Barker, Holly M. Lecture, University of Washington, Seattle WA, October 26, 2012 and November 7,2012
Borofsky, Robert. Why a Public Anthropology? 1st ed. Center for a Public Anthropology, 2011
Ceron, Alejandro, University of Washington, Seattle WA, November 7, 2012
Johnston, Barbara Rose, and Holly M. Barker. 2008. Consequential damages of nuclear war: the Rongelap Report. Walnut Creek, CA: Left Coast Press.

A Worlding of Chinese Medicine


Western biomedicine is the most widespread form of medicine today, serving as an international language of epistemology that connects translational institutions through its culture. From large scale projects such as the World Health Organization’s campaign to end malaria in the 1950s to modern day efforts of specific hospitals such as Johns Hopkins’ international branches, biomedicine has been endlessly exported and its influence magnified around the world. Less often, a reciprocation of traditional forms of medicine reach Western shores. The presence of medical pluralism in many first world countries is generally limited to a modest existence of alternative forms of medicine in the shadows of biomedical institutions. Other-Worldly: making Chinese medicine through transnational frames is the ethnographic culmination of Mei Zhan’s exploration of traditional Chinese medicine and its worlding through everyday culture clashes and consensuses with biomedicine. As the narrator of her encounters in various clinical and professional settings in Shanghai and California, Zhan serves as an arbiter between East and West, effectively communicating with individuals from a plethora of languages, medical cultures, professional backgrounds, ages, and perceptions. I found this ethnography to be informative and influential; it completely shattered the idea of a bilinear relationship between traditional and biomedicine that I had before and replaced it with a complex web of interconnected ties. The more I read about the interactions between Chinese medicine and the rest of the world, the more I felt its movement as an ideology. Though traditional Chinese medicine is a part of the healthcare business, it is much more than that. It is changing, animated, and driving— endlessly effecting and being affected.