Are we really Amigos? : A Few Anthropological Insights From Latin American Markets

When you're in a large market in Guatemala, Ecuador or Peru beautiful colours and an endless array of dizzying patterns surround you. People who paint their acid trips only wish they could squeeze out this many swirling shades full of ancient meaning. Here's another fact about such market scenes: you are always everybody's amigo or amiga. Venders call you their friend as they promise that their crafts are better than those of their neighbours and that their prices are the lowest. This can definitely be overwhelming in an entirely different way than the colours. It also brings to the surface important, deep-rooted issues that travellers to Central or South American countries seem to accept as-is, when really these topics are worth more thought.

                                          traditional market, Peru (photo by Lucie Bardos)

Upon entering Guatemala City's Mercado Central (Central Market) life becomes suddenly chaotic as vendors can spot a foreigner a mile away given that us gringos are not numerous in this country's capital, which unfortunately has a more than a bit of a reputation for being dangerous. If one was hoping that a polite smile and a "just looking, thanks" would work, they would be sorely disappointed. This comment would be met with: “What colour do you want?" "We have this style over here and that one over there!" "Chose one!" "Try it on!" "Come in!" "Ask!" - and if you hang around a little longer in one stall it's "Well... which one do you want?"

To me, everything on sale was beautiful and I wished I could buy it all and felt bad for not being able to do so as I sensed the vendors burning a dollar sign onto my forehead with their eyes. I had walked into the market hoping to chat up some of the merchants and talk about their artistic process and the traditions behind their crafts, and maybe I would have been able to had I not succumbed to resentful shyness, but I left disappointed. All they seemed to care about was convincing me to buy something.

During my 5-month trip to Central and South America this year, I too often felt like just a dollar sign. Other people I have met who have travelled to poor countries seem to accept this attitude, which is so prevalent in the locals, as just something you have to deal with and they always seem perfectly nonchalant about it. "Oh yeah, well everyone's just trying to get you to buy something. Just bargain hard and you'll get what you're looking for super cheap," they advise. I could not seem to master this breezy nonchalant attitude and most times that I went to a market I got a distinctly icky feeling, no matter how much I tried not to think about it.

                                     traditional market, Ecuador (photo by Lucie Bardos)

To begin to explain why I felt so uncomfortable with the situation, I should first clarify what I meant when I wrote "poor countries". Most Latin American countries are not "poor countries" at all - they are extremely rich. They just have too many poor people living in them due to histories of colonization, oppression, lingering neo-colonialism and the resulting corrupt governments, which always try their best to leave as little power as possible in the hands of the people. This, on the whole, leaves large numbers of individuals unable to engage in meaningful intrapersonal exchange as their major worry is feeding themselves and their families and sustaining their small businesses. A lot of the priceless indigenous wisdom present in these countries gets turned into a showy product sold to tourists while the true knowledge gets lost as it loses its value in a society of people just trying to make ends meet.

The thing is that from previous research I already knew these facts before heading South, so why did this "just buy something" attitude affect me so much? Upon further thought, I understood; this was the barebones version of pretty much all consumer-based capitalist societies. In the North we seem to be better at disguising our "just buy something"-ness behind polite chitchat and customer service, but underneath it's all the same. We may not all be struggling to feed ourselves but we are nonetheless trapped in a system that keeps us working (often in jobs we don't care for) in fear of losing what we have or not moving "forward" economically or socially. I realized that I too rarely find meaningful exchange of words, thoughts, and ideas here in my hometown and that I was somehow naively hoping to receive a more authentic experience in Latin America. I am not saying that I didn't find it, or that I never find it here, I suppose I just thought it would be a lot more widespread over there.

Something that drove the point home for me in Latin America was seeing all of the incredible richness all around me: gorgeous forests with an astounding array of medicines, food, building supplies, and beauty; huge sparkling lakes; acres of unused land (or used only for dumping); this is not to mention a vast array of metals and minerals currently being exploited largely by foreign corporations. As a Permaculture[1] enthusiast, I could envision these resources being harnessed sustainably, with more than enough for everyone, but as the market vendors' attitudes and my other observations showed, I could tell that the daily grind and the marginalization of poor and indigenous people was keeping many of them unable to see to these kinds of possibilities. It was precisely this unrealized potential for happiness that was at the heart of my icky feeling. I wanted to be people's amiga. But that was impossible to do when our whole instance of communication was based on money.

          Seeds... of Germination...
          Or Termination book cover

In "Seeds... Of Germination... or Termination", Calgary-based author Hugo Bonjean's recent book about the power of corporations and terminator seed technology, the Latin America of a post-2022-civil-war future becomes the United States of Bolivar in which autonomous communities unite under both the common need for sustainability and the necessity to get away from a corporate-controlled society[2]. The United Sates of Bolivar becomes a place of meaningful exchange and true richness. I had read the book before embarking on my journey and thought of it frequently while travelling as well as after getting back home as I mulled over my thoughts about the trip. Although Bonjean's book is fictional, it is based on a future that springs out of the current reality. It is my personal hope that it will not take more civil wars in Latin America - lord knows they've had enough - for the region to realize its amazing potential and for its wealth to be spread just a little more equally amongst its inhabitants.

On that note, despite all of the ickiness, I saw several local projects going ahead that made me believe that this hope is not unfounded. One example is Ecuador's Rio Muchacho Organic Farm[3] whose inhabitants have turned an 11 hectare plot of land into a gorgeous self-sustaining haven for travellers and locals alike who are tired of selling under pressure or being under pressure to buy. Food, building materials, and art and craft supplies are grown, harvested, utilized and shared on-site. There is a small gift shop at the farm but there is no one pressuring you to buy and if you do want to purchase an item, you have to ask one of the farm staff or volunteers to come carry out the transaction. Furthermore, after a tour of the farm you have already spent hours learning about the cultural significance of the items, how they are made, and what is used to the make them. Consequently, purchasing something acquires a deeper meaning in which both customer and seller benefit to a much larger extent than a simple barter situation at a market. 

                  Rio Muchacho Organic Farm, Ecuador (photo by Lucie Bardos)

I feel that if initiatives like this become more widespread and people begin to participate in harvesting the richness that is around them in a way that benefits the land and people on and around it, then the markets of the future may be places where travellers can stop for a chat, a little local knowledge and an exchange of goods or stories. They will also become places one may walk away from having made some true amigos.

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[1] Permaculture is a term that was coined by Bill Mollison and David Holmgren in the 1980's. It refers to a system of agriculture and of living in general that is based on natural systems and produces little to zero waste while maximizing yield and benefits to people and the land. There is a wide array of literature about the topic available, such as "Permaculture A Designer's Manual" by Bill Mollison and "Gaia's Garden" by Toby Hemenway.

[2] For more information on author Hugo Bonjean check out http://www.hugobonjean.com/

[3] For more information on Rio Muchacho Organic Farm check out http://www.riomuchacho.com/

A Book Review of “The Earth’s Blanket: Traditional Teachings for Sustainable Living” by Nancy J. Turner

Part 1: Summary

            In The Earth’s Blanket: Traditional Teachings for Sustainable Living, ethnobotanist Nancy J. Turner acquaints us with the “Earth’s blanket:” an age-old Nlaka’pmx concept used to explain the Earth’s sensitivity to human action (Turner 2005). Turner uses it as a starting and reference point in outlining the attitudes and behaviors of British Columbian First Nations and explaining how these can be harnessed today in order to promote effective conservation initiatives. Although she never directly mentions the human dimensions approach, many of its aspects, namely the interdependency of man and nature and the need to integrate communities into natural resource planning (Cordell et al.1999), can be identified throughout the book.

            Turner divided the book into eight chapters, each one building upon the last.  In the first chapter, “Wealth and Value in a Changing World,” she explains that the Nlaka’pmx idea of the “Earth’s blanket,” recorded by ethnobotanist James Teit in the 1800’s, is defined as the belief that plants create a protective “blanket” around the Earth and when this blanket is damaged due to overuse of resources, the earth “is sorry and weeps” (Turner 2005: 20). The idea is referred to in most of the subsequent chapters as a metaphorical guide for human attitudes and behavior.

            In the following six chapters the author looks at various aspects of First Nations history, beliefs and culture, whilst bringing them into a modern-day perspective by giving examples of how each aspect described could be useful in specific current situations.

            Firstly, she presents the reader with a series of First Nations stories that give us an idea of the basis of First Nations attitudes and beliefs. These include tales of creation: how ancient beings sacrificed themselves and created riches for people to enjoy, how specific plants and animals came into being and why they act the way they do. In the next chapter Turner talks about the First Nations “kincentric” approach to nature; how they view themselves as an integral and equal part of their surroundings, resulting in a profound sense of respect for all living and non-living parts of their environment. She describes how they apply this sense of respect in the chapters entitled “Honoring Nature Through Ceremony and Ritual,” “The Balance Between Humans and Nature,” and “Looking After the Lands and Waters.” In the second of the three we can recognize that the Turner favors the human dimensions approach to natural resource management because she illustrates the positives of incorporating the First Nations’ unique sense of balance between man and nature into modern day situations. She does this by describing how elder Mary Thomas helped contribute valuable insights relating to this subject at the “Helping the Earth Heal” conference on Ecological Restoration in British Columbia.

            In the last two chapters, “Everything is One” and “Finding Meaning in a Contemporary Context,” Turner summarizes the previous ones, while focusing much more on the present, and, indirectly, on the human dimensions perspective. In “Everything is One,” she expands upon kincentricism and the Earth’s blanket concept using the Nu-Chah-Nulth belief that everything is interconnected: man and nature, the past and the future, and culture and ecology. This is then used to critique western society’s tendency to compartmentalize and separate academic institutions into departments, thus creating overly simplified knowledge systems that don’t accurately reflect our complex interdependency with nature. In the last chapter we are given several current and successful restoration projects currently taking place with First Nations support and guidance, such as the Koeye Restoration Plan. The author ends the chapter by listing the eight basic principles, which, according to her, are essential to conservation.  These concepts include the idea that humans are a part of nature, the importance of cultural, ceremonial and linguistic ties to the land, the priceless wisdom of elders, the necessity to educate youth, and the benefits of a diversity of participants in any conservation initiative.

Part 2: Evaluation

                                    The purpose of Turner’s book is to deepen our understanding of First Nations’ knowledge of nature and recognize the benefits this knowledge can have in current and future conservation initiatives. This message comes across very clearly because the book is informative, easy-to-read, rich in concrete examples of the ideas discussed, and because each chapter relates to the previous one so the reader never feels like he has lost track of the progression of ideas as the book goes on. However, my personal reading of the text was somewhat negatively affected by the constant mention of how words are written/pronounced in First Nations languages and by the awkward translations of First Nations stories at the beginning of the book.

                        For example, in the first chapter Turner talks about the “the Dzawada7enuxw of Kingcom Inlet” (Turner 2005: 25), giving us only the First Nations’ name of the tribe, while on other occasions, she also provides the anglicized name for certain tribes such as “The Saanich (WSÁNÉC)” (Turner 2005: 40). When referring to these tribes later, she sometimes only uses the anglicized version and sometimes only the First Nations version, making it difficult for the reader to focus. In my opinion she should have used only one way of referring to tribe names. If she had chosen to do this using First Nations’ languages, she should have included, at the end of the book, an appendix explaining how to read/pronounce these words.

Similarly, at times Turner uses the English name for a plant with the Latin and First Nations names in brackets as in: “spring beauty corms (Claytonia lanceolata, tetúwn’)” (Turner 2005: 33). Other times, she only provides the Latin name of the plant, in brackets. Throughout the text, some previously mentioned plants are referred to in the First Nations language and others in English. This inconsistency causes the same type of confusion as mentioned before with the names of the various tribes. In sections of the book where the author mentions or discusses numerous plants or tribes, the reader has to read very carefully in order to not get lost in all the names and even feels urged, at times, to skip sections.

The other slightly irritating aspect of the book occurs in the second chapter entitled “Land-based Stories of People and Home Places,” in which Turner provides translations and explanations of various First Nations stories to help the reader understand where their kincentric views originated. While the explanations are clear and informative, the translations are often quite long and awkwardly worded. For example, in the “Story of the Yellow-Cedar Sisters” it says:

They were so tired, they decided to stop and rest. They said to themselves, “We’d better stand here now on the side of the mountain; they will call us salhmapt.” And they turned into yellow-cedar trees. (Turner 2005: 57)

 I am aware of the fact that the richness of many First Nations languages and the exact meaning of their words are extremely hard to translate, therefore I would have preferred to read a summary of each story and understand its central meaning, rather than having to struggle with all the details.

However, other than these two minor complaints, Turner succeeds brilliantly at transmitting her message to the reader. She does this by first providing the background information needed for understanding First Nations attitudes and behaviors. Then, in the first couple of chapters,  she illustrates how these were successfully applied in the past, creating sustainable human-nature interactions in which nature provided for humans and yet was not abused by them. Later she explains how these practices, proven to be effective in the past but often overlooked in the present, can be used today in order to promote sustainable land management practices.

A perfect example would be the respectful attitudes adopted by First Nations, which stem from creation stories that speak of mythical beings who changed plants and animals from their ancient, human-like forms to present day forms, thus creating wonderful gifts and helping First Nations survive throughout history. These stories were passed down orally to all children, ingraining in them the fundamental belief that everything in nature was a gift and was therefore to be respected, not abused. This resulted in First Nations communities’ sustainable use of resources (eg. Turner explains how chiefs would be responsible for making sure that rivers were never over-fished). Bringing this into a modern-day context, the author reveals how current educational centers, such as the Koeye River Fishing Lodge, teach these same beliefs and practices to anyone who is willing to learn about them, not just First Nations children, in the hopes that this information makes into conference rooms where natural resource management decisions are made.

References

Cordell, H.K., A.P. Hoover, G.R. Super, and C.H. Manning. 1999. Adding human dimensions to ecosystem-based management of natural resources. Pp. 1-12 in H.K. Cordell & J.C. Bergstrom (Eds.), Integrating Social Sciences with Ecosystem Management: Human dimensions in assessment, policy, and management. Champaign, IL: Sagamore Publishing.

In Text: (Cordell et al.1999)

Turner, N. 2005. The Earth’s Blanket: Traditional Teachings for Sustainable Living. Vancouver: Douglas & McIntire Ltd.

In Text: (Turner 2005)