NO REST FOR THE AWAKE - MINAGAHET CHAMORRO

During the pandemic lockdown on Guam, I was feeling at various points, like so many, stressed and anxious about the world and what was happening and what might happen. I was fortunate to still have a job during the lockdown, and because of technology like zoom and social media, I could still keep up my community work, by teaching classes in the Chamoru language and also history. I also was able to keep up with Fanachu! the podcast for Independent Guåhan. Because of so many people sheltering at home, our audience grew exponentially. One thing that I found myself doing more, like most people with a certain level of privilege and comfort, was watching more things online, on laptops and on my phones. Movie theaters were closed, but Netflix and Youtube were always open, so long as I had data on my phone and wifi in the home. As most people were locked down, sheltering in place, only encouraged to go out and explore for essential tasks or errands, things in general started to shift to becomi...

 

In light of COVID-19, Independent Guåhan moves their annual Na’lå’la’ concert on air and online this Saturday on KUAM For Immediate Release, July 8, 2020 –  Since 2017, each July Independent Guåhan has hosted a free concert,  “Na’lå’la’: Songs of Freedom.” This event is a chance for the community to connect to conscious and empowering messages for social change and decolonization through music, poetry, art and dance. Due to the COVID-19 pandemic and the need to social distance, this year’s concert is going online and on-air.  Independent Guåhan invites the community to tune in Saturday, July 11 th  from 7 to 10 pm on KUAM TV 8 for “Na’lå’la’: Songs of Freedom Vol. 4.” The concert will also be livestreamed on KUAM News’ Facebook page. The concert is held each year close to the Fourth of July or Independence Day in hopes of opening up the holiday up to a new more locally focused interpretation. Independent Guåhan encouraged the island as a whole and beyond t...

I met someone recently who asked me if I had read the story Thumbelina, and I was certain I had but a long long time ago. I could remember faint details, but not much. She told me that she had read it when she was young and reread it throughout the years. Eventually as she got out of an abusive and toxic long-term relationship she began to see more and more of her life through the imagery and metaphors of the story. I decided this week to reread it (and maybe read it with my kids). Revisiting the story, I can see why she felt it resonated so much with her. I am mulling over whether I should translate the story into Chamoru. I think it might work rather well. I remember my grandmother telling me a story of her mother's, about a boy who fell asleep and woke up a butterfly living in a flower. I'd probably call it " Si Dikike'."  Ta li'e' buente.  ***************************** Thumbelina by Hans Christian Andersen (1835) THERE was once a...

Duru manhasso yu’ Put i orå-ta på’go na puengi  Anai umapacha hit put kånnai, lassas, labios I patten hågu ti manmaleffåyon Gi asson-hu guini anai esta ma’pos hao Gagaige ha’ hao gi fi’on-hu Hu nginge’ hao, hu siente hao  Ti siña maleffa yu’ i minaipe-mu gi hinagong-mu gi matå-hu Este todu muna’mongmongmong i korason-hu Ya muna’kakai ha’ i minaigo’-hu

For my intermediate Chamoru coffeeshop classes, which during the current lockdown, have been moved online, we translate a Chamoru song into English each week. We listen to the song twice, go over the lyrics, sometimes talk about the cultural dimensions of the song or the metaphors and history that it invokes. It is one of my favorite ways to teach the language, since it involves not only teaching the language itself, but also making connections across generations and sometimes using the nostalgia that people have to encourage further learning. My lyrics are often from just listening since few Chamoru albums include lyrics. This means that sometimes my lyrics are slightly to noticeably off. But even years after doing this regular assignment, I still learn new things from this exercise, even for myself. Sometimes I hear lyrics in a new way and realize I was singing them wrong for years. Last week, at the request of one of my students, we translated the song "An Mo'na Hao...

I once had the experience of being in a short, intense and confusing relationship with someone for a single month. Desde gualafon asta gualafon. From full moon to full moon, we fell in love and then I watched as she, following the phases of the moon, disappeared into the darkness of the sky and rapidly fell out of love. It was a strange experience because it felt deep and felt real, but then disappeared, out of my grasp like trying to catch the moon or its light between finger-lengths.  At the end of that bewildering experience, I wrote this poem, trying to take stock of what had happened, but also somehow hoping that with the changing of the moon again, she might come back, and the light that lit up her face and the sky might return. It did not.  *********************** Pulan Kada puengi  Anai hu atan hulo’ gi langhet Ya hu li’e’ i pilan Bai hu hahasso hao Ya bai hu na’hasson mamaisa yu’ Na hunggan i pilan yanggen tumaigu...

When relationships end, people may fight over pets, fight over furniture, collections, kids. One thing that has always struck me, for certain, but not all relationship apocalypses is songs. Music where affection and attachment were forged and welded together with tunes and lyrics from particular artists. It provides the rhythm to togetherness, to grooves of the “us.” When a relationship ends, the rhythm of togetherness sometimes sours, turns grimly bitter. What once caused joy, now feels like it creates bone cancer. Songs or artists that I shared with someone and used to make me smile, now make me retch, make the skies insidiously darken in the space between beats. The muscles remember, even what the mind or heart wishes it could forget. For one particularly tough relationship, the music of Tegan and Sara was part of the soundtrack of us. For years I enjoyed it alongside her. For my girlfriend at the time, she was a twin and adored the duo, and introduced me to their music...

The issue of lockdowns, checkpoints, roadblocks, civil liberties and rights has been prominent lately in Guam (and in other places as well). I was looking at my bookshelf for different books and discussions on this sort of issue, wanting to just put some structure to the ways that people were talking about stricter measures to save lives, but others trying forcefully to argue that their rights wer e more important than the public health concerns. There were alot of ways to approach something like this, since it brings in philosophy, political science/theory, sociology, legal theory, etc. As I was scanning my bookshelf though, I saw a book I hadn't read in a while, but has one passage which I thought of as being relevant in the sort of "looking awry" way I like my critical analysis, "A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court" by Mark Twain. In it, there is the passage on the two "Reigns of Terror."  "There were two "Reigns of Terror...