Borderlands Identity

            For my Latin American and Caribbean studies capstone class with Professor Barnett, we just finished reading Borderlands by Gloria Anzaldúa.  In this book, she identifies the existence of a “borderlands” identity held by those who live between the binary identities created by the rigid border – geographically, culturally, linguistically – between United States and Mexico.  Anzaldúa addresses the relationships between those who fit distinctly into these binary identities and those who occupy a “borderlands” identity, in that the “borderlands” identities hold strong ties to both side while simultaneously existing entirely separately and uniquely.  They simultaneously identify multiple homelands and a complete lack of homeland.  In many cases, these individuals live in ambiguity in terms of language, homeland, and identification when surrounded by those who live entirely within an in-group; these individuals may frequently feel othered by those who share their same heritage from one side of the border or the other, resulting in a situation like that of Cuban exiles in which their homeland no longer wants them.  As a result, they form a new identity with strong ties to the past but entirely unique experiences.

            While Anzaldúa wrote primarily about the Chicanx experience, I could not help myself but to compare to the O’odham experience.  In her book, Anzaldúa references those who have experienced a changing identity with the movement of the border, in which they lost their homeland identification when the border crossed them.  While these situations do not echo or even mirror the experiences of the O’odham, they call attention to some of the same struggles created by the existence of the border and the relationships the hold with the United States and Mexico.  Geographically, the O’odham occupy a “borderlands” identity that exists separately and uniquely from either side of the border, and they hold strong ties to the land on either side of the border in terms of identification of homeland; however, that is where the “borderlands” identity that Anzaldúa writes about ends for the O’odham.  They hold no ties to the nations that created the border that crossed them.  They do not exist as a result of the fusion of lives.  They have existed longer than the borderlands, and thus, the identification of their lives as such would have to be an adoption of the label on their part.

            In her article, “Who’s the Indian in Aztlán? Re-Writing Mestizaje, Indianism, and Chicanismo from the Lacandón,” Josefina Saldaña-Portillo responds to Anzaldúa by identifying her failure to identify that Mexico and the Southwest themselves are a borderland through the fusion of indigenous past and colonial past, through the interception of indigenous, Spanish, African, and Anglo roots.  This borderlands relationship may be more applicable to the O’odham, through pure American Indian roots and/or the American Indian interception with the Spanish and Anglo experience to create the modern O’odham experience.

            Anzaldúa’s work gave voice to many Chincanxs across the United States through the creation of a bilingual, bicultural group with two distinct homelands that no longer feel like home.  Saldaña’s point is fair in identifying the limitations and the shortcomings of her work, as this work does not represent the entire borderlands experience, even if it was never intended to do so.  Saldaña wants to ensure that the conversation regarding the indigenous and American Indian experiences in relation to colonization and the modern negotiation of border relations – in terms of modernity as well as history – continues openly and inclusively.

Borders: The Irony

It seems ironic to me that borders, created to keep people out, have actually had the opposite effect, to a certain extent. In addition to the increased invasion of Tohono O'odham land by trash/litter and drug trafficking, there seems to be a second all too familiar theme in our readings of the misunderstandings between the government and the Indian people.

As the government continues to form new legislation and make adjustments to border patrol, the Tohono O'odham people are feeling the effects. For the amount of people present on the reservation, this surprises me. I am also always surprised by the blatant disregard of the Indian people's opinions and needs by the federal government. Even today, the treatment of these individuals by police and border patrol is inconceivable. More importantly, I worry for the future of the Indian culture. With interferences such as the damage of litter to their sacred lands and the introduction of drug addictions that they do not have the facilities to handle, it must be difficult to feel connected with ones surroundings in the way that they used to be. Also, it is improbable that Indians can conduct ceremonies the same way they used to now with the increasing difficulties of traveling. It has become much easier just to stay at home. Even home, however, has struggles as Indians are unable to collect sacred plants, such as saguaro, and walk freely like they used to. Hopefully the future does not hold further restrictions for the Tohono O'odham people, as they are already struggling to maintain the lifestyle they once had.

Movement of Illness & Mental Illness

When I was in high school, I worked in an equine veterinary clinic that utilized a combination of typical Western veterinary practices and practices of Traditional Chinese Medicine in order to provide healing, relief, and quality of life to the horses.  New clients were always skeptical of the combination, not just in the rationale of using both methods but in the knowledge of the limitations of each.  Without deeming one more competent or appropriate than the other, they were often concerned with determining the relationship between the two, which in the case of most of these clients, was the familiar Western medicine and the novel Traditional Chinese Medicine.  In the article “Pima and Papago Medicine and Philosophy” by Donald Bahr, he discusses the same type of negotiation of relationship between two different approaches to health and medicine that share the same goal of providing a certain quality of life and wellbeing.  He identifies the solution to this tension as being, within Piman medicine, the distinction between “wandering” and “staying” sicknesses.  This binary distinction allows each approach a specific realm in which to work for the ultimate betterment of the people.  It reminds me of a couple distinctions often made among epidemiologists, in which illnesses are classified first as interpersonally contagious or noncontagious and second as whether or not it passes between species.  Based on those classifications, the approaches to treatment will differ.  Within many approaches to health and medicine, the movement of disease, both within the body and between bodies, becomes critical in treatment and prevention.

After reading about the identification and descriptions of “wandering” and “staying” sicknesses, I was left wondering how different mental illnesses would fit into this distinction, or if they would even be regarded in a similar enough fashion to Western medicine that would require negotiation of the tensions that I can identify.  Upon my initial thought, I assumed that most mental illnesses would be treated as “staying” sicknesses, as they are never to pass from individual to individual and the Piman experience of mental illness is distinct from any other cultural experience of mental illness.  However, the idea that mental illness may pass from person to person continues to be considered and negotiated, even if medical professionals have dispelled the identification of mental illnesses as following patterns of traditional contagions.  Instead, the focus now lies on the social transmission of these conditions by contributing additions to a group’s symptom pool and by influencing patterns of thought and behavior.  However, whether or not mental illnesses have some degree of mobility, that does not disregard that the conditions are experienced within the intersections of various identities, thus separating different experiences of mental illness, even if they may theoretically transmittable.  I would love to have the opportunity to be able to discuss with someone more knowledgeable regarding Piman practices of medicine how mental illness would fit, if at all, into the construction of the relationship between Piman medicine and Anglo or Western medicine.

Change vs. Permanence

After reading Bahr's "Pima and Papago Medicine and Philosophy," I find myself even more shocked than before at the impact of American "westernization" on the lives of American Indians. In addition to the White's imposition of Christian ideals, the impact of American civilization on the shamans within Indian communities took me by surprise. Shamans, known for their deep connection/relationship with spirits and overall importance to Indian communities, as we have seen in traditions and ceremonies such as the Salt Pilgrimage, have always been central to Indian life. Yet, somehow, they became scapegoats for disease, and in turn, outcasts. This is surprising considering how long they have been deeply involved in Indian societies and how many important different purposes they serve.

I also found the concepts of wandering sickness and staying sickness to directly illustrate the fine divide between the two ideologies. For Westerners, there appears to be a common theme of changing things and people to the way they "should" be. For example, wandering sicknesses must be cured. They come and go while staying sicknesses are forever contained among the Pimans. Gregorio's comparison of staying sickness and the ocean contrasts with the idea of permanence, and lifetime relationships, within Indian communities. Furthermore, the common theme of reciprocity among Indians is seen in their personification of wandering sickness. Their belief that wandering sicknesses can be placated shows the strong ties felt between Indians and their surroundings.

Wine, Women, and Salt

            In both the wine ritual and the salt pilgrimage, I was most drawn to the role that women play. In the Griffin-Pierce reading, women were described as historically important to economic production, because they were responsible for creating baskets, pottery, and other trade items as men focused more on agriculture. While this is an isolated example of the gender dynamics of the Tohono O’Odham, it gave me the impression that women played important roles in their society. It may indeed be true that women are important and respected, especially in regards to their ability to contribute to production, but these readings show that women were treated as inferior in ritual life.

            Women are certainly involved in the wine ritual, but the significant roles are all reserved for men. This distinction bothered me. Waddell and Nabhan both describe women (and children) harvesting the saguaro fruit and turning it into the syrup that eventually becomes wine. From my perspective, this would be considered one of the most important parts of the ritual. If there is no one to actually get the saguaro fruit, the wine cannot be made, and the ceremony cannot take place. There is no evidence in the ritual itself that the hard work women put into making the wine is acknowledged. During the ritual, women dancers must dance behind their male counterparts, and women in the circle must sit behind men. The people leading the ceremony are all men. Women are still allowed to participate by dancing and drinking, but the symbolism of them always remaining behind the men sends a strong message. Waddell additionally notes that if the ritual fails, it could be because a woman contaminated the wine. Blaming them for a failed ritual, on top of not acknowledging the work they put into it, is wrong. This suggests a larger climate of sexism.

            Women are at least allowed to participate in the wine ritual; the salt pilgrimage is exclusive to men, and warns of women as a threat to its success. Men make all new supplies before going on the pilgrimage, to avoid the risk of using anything that encountered a pregnant or menstruating woman. If a man on the pilgrimage even thought of a woman, it was said to delay their journey. This belief that women posed a risk to bringing the rains back, simply by touching a shoe or being thought of, is concerning. Exclusion of women from certain activities is not nearly as extreme as blaming a lack of rain on them. These beliefs paint women as a dangerous group, and reserve all the glory for men.

            All of this is not to discredit or insult the Tohono O’odham rituals, it is simply to acknowledge something that stood out to me. The rituals have been around for much longer than modern concepts of gender equality and feminism, and they were a product of their times and culture. However, my observations brought a very important question to mind. Are Tohono O’odham women systematically oppressed in day to day life to the extent that they are in rituals? Or, are the traditional gender roles amplified in rituals? I am interested to see in our further studies the roles that women play in non-ceremonial aspects of Tohono O’odham life. I wonder if now, in the twenty first century, gender roles could change even in regards to rituals. I do not have strong faith in this, especially since rituals occur less frequently as it is harder and harder to preserve the practices of their ancestors. If women are never allowed to participate in ritual life, because of their historical exclusion and the continued decline of practicing rituals, how can the Tohono O’odham show future generations that women are just as valuable as men?

Salt-Pilgrimage: How Its Significant

The most interesting aspect of the readings was the significance of salt in rituals for the Tohono O'odham tribe. At first, I was confused why salt was an integral part of the O'odham tribes' ritual for manhood. I understand that the ocean is seen as a powerful entity that is capable of granting power to the young men of the tribe. Why, then, is salt from the ocean instead of the water itself used in the rituals for manhood? One reason may be that the ocean is holy because the water is sacred. Consequently, taking water from the ocean is devaluing the divinity of the ocean and disrespects nature. Also, the O'odham tribe view the Ocean as a person, feeling its influence whenever they gaze upon it. Perhaps the tribe views salt as a gift from the ocean and that this is the key to absorbing the ocean's power. However, its interesting that the tribe uses the ocean for their advantage much like they utilize land for economic reasons. The balance of worship and usage of nature raises questions on Native American spirituality. Can you still respect and honor the land and use it for purposes that differ from its apparent function? The way in which Native Americans connect with the land seems to contradict and only the tribes themselves understand the balance.

Another interesting factor in the ritual of salt-pilgrimage is the purpose of pilgrimage. Its interesting that young boys must go through a rite of passage through this pilgrimage in order to be a man. Manhood, by the O'odham's standards, revolves around one's appeal to the fathers of eligible girls. Their destiny that they receive from visions will essentially mark their eligibility to marriage. Why, then are women barred from this process of self-pilgrimage? Do they have another rite of self-passage that makes them eligible towards men? If the reason man have visions through Salt-pilgrimage is due to the fact that it gives them power, this implies the tribe has a firm distinction of gender roles. Furthermore, salt-pilgrimage suggests power from nature defines manhood.