Pele and Me

I will talk more about my trip to Oahu later. But for now, I'd like to talk about my experiences on Kilauea.

We went up near the top of the volcano last Monday afternoon. That evening, we had a welcoming ceremony to the place and then the next morning (Tuesday), a sunrise ceremony where we offer ava juice to the crater and other people (i.e., plants and rocks) that we found there. Before the ceremony itself, we went through steam from a steam vent (maybe as a way to purify ourselves).

The steam is considered to be a manifestation of the female energy of the place, so I imagined the steam replenishing my yin energy (according to Chinese medicine, yin is a female energy). I am such a Yang personality (very active, hates to sit still) that I have depleted my yin so many of my acupuncture treatments revolve around gaining my yin energy back. I mention this because I think this was the start of my connection to the volcano - and to the fire, Pele.

On Wednesday, I couldn't get warm all day (our meeting room was chilly) and since I only had one pair of pants and didn't want to wear them four days in a row, I wore capris and sandals. By the afternoon, I started to feel chills. After we ended our afternoon session, I went back to the cabin, put on several layers of clothes, and tried to get warm. Then we went to dinner, but I only stayed long enough to eat. I was too chilled.

I kept on all my layers and huddled under a blanket on the coach. We had the heat way up in the cabin. I sat there for two hours trying to get warm enough. My hands and feet took the longest to feel normal. IN the meantime, I felt feverish. My brother noticed my face was really red. This was after he came back inside the cabin where he also noted the "plume" or a bright red glow off in the direction of the crater. I decided I had a fever then.

I got ready for bed - changed my dressing and took my herbs and Ibuprofen. One herb is for colds and flu; I take the Ibuprofen for the inflammation and swelling in my armpit.

I slept fairly well, although I woke up in the middle of the night perspiring a little bit - my fever broke. The next morning, I found out that the plume had died down again. As I changed my dressing, I noted a rash on my chest, radiating out from the tumor on my breast bone.

That evening, after the hula performances, some of us went to the crater to see it one last time. It was dark out. When we got the crater, we turned off the flashlights and we really couldn't see much out there except for vog (volcano fog). Maybe a bit of a glow out in the crater. Then it began to grow - the plume appeared again. Each time it grew, one of my friends, would say, "wow, look at that!". As it grew, I felt warm again - and then it seemed as if heat was radiating from the rash on my chest.

So, I think I had a connection with Pele, with the fire of the volcano. I responded to her heat or she was responding to my heat. I find myself thinking of my local volcanoes. My niece had a henna party on Saturday and I decided to put a volcano henna design on my wrist and forearm.

I'm looking forward to going back.

Indigenous Anthropology

Some of my indigenous friends might consider the phrase "indigenous anthropology" to be an oxymoron. Indigenous peoples have been the subject of anthropological research for so long that anthropology is seen (and if truth be told, it is) a colonial enterprise. And colonialism has not been kind to indigenous peoples all over the world, so there has been a backlash against anthropology by indigenous peoples.

However, there are some indigenous peoples that are using anthropological methods to benefit their communities. Some, like me, grew up outside our communities, so anthropological methods have become a way to understand more about our cultures and to connect with our communities and reclaim our identities. That's how it is for me. My work is intensely personal.

In recent weeks, I have been asked to audio-record myself reading a chapter I wrote on teasing cousin songs among the King Island Inupiat Eskimo and to be interviewed by a documentary filmmaker researching Kotzebue's "Lost Dances", including the Wolf Dance.

These have been interesting exercises because I ended up revisiting my master's degree research from 17-19 years ago and my Ph.D. Research from 11-13 years ago. (gosh, has it really been that long ago? I don't feel that old!) As I tell my grad students, choose a subject that you are passionate about because you have to live with it a long time.

I found out doing the audio recording and the filmin that I still really enjoy these topics so I think that means that I need to revisit them professionally. Fortunately, my book proposal was accepted at OSU Press, so this year, I will be rewriting articles on teasing cousin songs and on the Wolf Dance.

I recorded myself reading the article and pronouncing the teasing cousin songs. The recording was requested by professors at University of Alaska Anchorage who were using that article in a freshman composition class. I found out later that about 10 or 11 sections of this class were using it, which means that upwards of 200 students were listening to it. I thought maybe 15 or 20. That was a bit overwhelming. They wanted to post the recording on a public blog for the class but I declined; I do not know the language well, so I feel lie my elders should do the more public recording.

And today, I just finished a three hour interview with the filmmaker. It took a while to find a spot that was quiet and had good light, which in the end, was my office. Boy, it was intense, but in a good way. It meant focusing on my words, making sure my information was correct, paying attention to where I looked and making sure I didn't rustle and mess up the sound for the mic. It was intense because it brought up all these feelings about why I got into anthropology to begin with -which means I cried because my work is so tied to how I feel about who I am in relation to the King Island community and how strongly I feel about trying to document, save, and find scattered bits of information about our culture before it becomes "lost". I want our community to be proud of the accomplishments of our ancestors and of who we are today (playing on Facebook, staying in touch via the Internet, etc.). My dissertation research on the King Island Wolf Dance was really a process of pulling together hints of information that I found in archives, in ethnographic literature, in museums, in schoolteachers' diaries, in photographs, drawings, and film. Anthrology gave me the skills to find it; my passion for the information causes me to be observant of the many places I can find it; and my desire to help the community document our history and culture helped me to pull it all together to tell a fuller story than our communities might get otherwise.

All of that came rushing back because the filmmaker, Norman Jayo and community member, D'Anne Hamilton, are helping the youth in Kotzebue to do the same thing that I have done. It brought up many emotions about why I do what I do. So the session was emotionally intense today, but good.

I am tired.

I have been conflicted of late about being in academia, primarily because of the energy and time demands required of a professor. Cancer treatments do take away your energy. So I don't know if I can put the same amount of time into the job as my colleagues. I also want to be very strategic about what I do -your priorities shift with a life-threatening illness. I would rather hang out with my son or my family when I feel good rather than waste my precious time in some silly committee meeting that win't make a difference anyway. It really means making sure that I use my time doing things that have the most impact, both for me personally (my research) and for indigenous peoples generally. Undergraduate advising doesn't have the same impact as my spending several hours today with filmmakers talking about the Wolf Dance, because that film will help those kids who made the film. My audio recording for a composition class, introducing those students to how another culture composes something, has more impact.

So, I need to figure out ways to invest my time wisely at work. And what I want to do is outside the norm for most professors and people aren't quite sure how to make that work for me. But we are starting the conversation soon . . . And if all goes well, I won't be as conflicted about my job any longer.

So thank you, UAA English profs, and thank you, Norman and D'Anne, for reminding me of what is important to me and giving me the opportunity to make a difference!