NO REST FOR THE AWAKE - MINAGAHET CHAMORRO

  For the past 10 weeks, I've been writing columns for the Pacific Daily News providing historical context for the 1946 protest of US Navy Radioman George Tweed by more than a 100 Chamorus. Today marked my last column on the series. Although I did get a great deal more hate messages and a hateful comments during this series, I still greatly enjoyed writing these pieces. George Tweed was such an incredibly important symbol for Chamorus during the Japanese occupation. For me as a historian it is fascinating to think about how, just two years after the end of that occupation, more than a 100 Chamorus felt compelled to make signs and protest him when he returned to island. They didn't do this in the dead of night, but in the middle of the Plaza de España in front of the leadership of the US Navy on Guam. As I wrote in this last column, it was a multitude of things that compelled Chamorus to take this act, but many of them weren't about Tweed himself. Chamorus were frustrated th

After almost 13 hours of labor, I am excited beyond words to introduce all of you to Lulai Lumuhu Perez Bevacqua. Lulai means to fish on the reef by the moonlight. Lumuhu is an ancient Chamoru month, it was documented to mean “the time to return” or “to resume one’s path.” Desiree moved back to Guam last year to reconnect with her island and learn Chamoru. This name holds special significance, since her return home allowed us to meet. Perez is from Desiree’s family and is “Familian Boño.” She's also Familian Pepero as well. Bevacqua is my family and although we have roots elsewhere as well, we are from the Kabesa and Bittot families of Guam. Lulai has one of those matan bihu mångnge faces, that make you feel torn between pinching them to vent out the magoddai or take her hand and sniff it “manginge’” style to show her respect. She looks like fresh new life, paopaopao yan pao'neni lokkue' and also looks like my grandfather at the same time. Sen magof ham på’go ya in agradede