Reviving Tradition: Cultural Revitalization Projects Worldwide

Reviving Tradition: Cultural Revitalization Projects Worldwide – Amid the challenges of the pandemic, communities in India, Kenya and Canada are finding a silver lining. David Stringer

Women from Tharaka, Kenya, wearing traditional reviving beads, sing during the Muriira ritual, traditionally performed when a community is threatened by disease or pestilence. Photo: Hannibal Rhoades

Reviving Tradition: Cultural Revitalization Projects Worldwide

More than two years into the global pandemic of COVID-19, much of the focus in the media has been on the negative, especially on vulnerable minorities and Indigenous peoples. However, surprisingly, as Indigenous communities struggled to cope with the pandemic, excellent opportunities arose for cultural restoration and the promotion of shared values ​​of solidarity and respect, reverence and reciprocity with the ancestral natural world.

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As Indigenous communities have struggled to cope with the pandemic, remarkable opportunities have arisen for cultural restoration and recommitment to ancestral values ​​of solidarity and reverence, respect and interaction with the natural world.

Some inspiring stories of Indigenous resilience and regeneration in the face of the pandemic were reported in the previous issue of Langscape Magazine. On October 13, 2011, I convened and moderated an Indiana University webinar to further explore this topic. The interview brought together two of the authors of their stories: Radhika Borde (Charles University), who had written with Siman Hansdak (Santhal tribe) about the return of a villager to the forests of eastern India; and Simon Mitambo (African Biodiversity Network), who discussed Tharaka’s newfound appreciation for ancestral culture and rituals in Kenya. They were joined by Luisa Maffi, Director and

Narrative: Severn Cullis-Suzuki’s (David Suzuki Foundation) account of her family’s sacramental immersion in the Haida language during the pandemic lockdown on Haida Gwaii.

Radhika, could you tell us about your work with Siman Hansdak in India and how you got involved?

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RADHIKA BORDE: We have been friends for many years. Siman Santhal is where the Adivasi [Indigenous] community comes from, and we came up with this idea to document what was going on. The course of events had changed the Adivasis. Many had left the villages to go to the cities and to work, and to return at certain times of the year. But when it was so suddenly announced, many of the laborers in the cities fled. It was like Exodus. They returned and were reminded of how unstable it was outside their cities – anything could happen at any moment, and they would certainly not survive. The communities themselves began to recognize their connection to the forest land. And they had

They had to do a lot that they didn’t have time before. The Adivasis have yielded much to what they were traditionally taught. People started consuming more herbal teas and foraging for healthy foods and the like.

RADHIKA: When the schools were closed, the adult children started going into the forests to forage. Interestingly, for Santhals it is always a tradition of children to participate in activities. For children are also involved in settling quarrels, and have their own elections, which are called to testify. Children seem to have agency, and I think this is reinforced when they are not sent to school and have the opportunity to reconnect.

Phenilal Hansdak returns from hunting in the forest, carrying traditional hunting weapons and some forest fruits in a cloth sling. In the 2020 pandemic, Santhal people will go to the forest in groups to hunt as their ancestors once did. Photo: Siman Hansdak

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Simon, could you tell us about Tharaka, and how the pandemic led to the awakening and reduction of humanity?

SIMON MITAMBO: I come from a native monastery near Mount Kenya, which is a venerable and sacred place. I grew up like my parents, but my education separated me from the community. I don’t know at what point I felt that I needed to reconnect in a process they call “going back to the roots”. The plague of the pandemic has disrupted much: the agricultural system, our gathering. At some point we wanted to do the ritual. Elders said that we need to learn from the pandemics that have come before. One of the elders saw that ritual when he was very young, so very creative moments trying to rethink what we know, what we have lost, and how we can move forward with what we remember. The ritual of Muriira gathered all the members together, whether they were Christians, whether they were Muslims, whether they were traditional believers, because the event of coming together in solidarity was contrary to the truth of how things were.

Tharakan Elders and Spiritual Leaders go out to perform their rituals with cow horns and dyed hair. Photo: Hannibal Rhoades

Could you talk about the reaction of members of the Christian community to the way they participate in this traditional ritual?

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SIMON: Someone told me that we are born spiritual. Sometimes we try to suppress it. Reconnect sometime. In that society many are born as Africans, as the first indigenous people. And the first thing you do is get your name handed down. Sometimes, therefore, if you are Catholic, you acquire another name. My first name was actually Ndonco, then I got Simon. Because of the initial, inherent identity, everyone is connected to the ritual. It was strange when we saw Christians contributing. When we ask them, “Why don’t you feel this is not good?” one of them said, “You know we are Christians, but we are Africans; we were first of all Africans, first of all natives, then we embraced Christianity. That’s how it makes sense.

So the first thing is reunification in a community setting between people, between people. And then there is the connection with the land that supports the community. And then there is room for other philosophies. Luisa, I would love it if you could discuss today’s interview with the perspective of a First Nation not far from where you live in Canada, but also a world away: the Haida people in the Haida Gwaii archipelago.

LUISA MAFFI: I would like to preface this by saying that what happened in Haida Gwaii was reported by Severn Cullis-Suzuki; He could not be with us today. Many First Nations in Canada, because of the historical memory of what happened with past pandemics, surrounded their communities on roads or, as in Haida Gwaii, blocked all maritime traffic coming into the archipelago. The experience of Severn and his family during the period of quarantine was to find that after a while, turning to the language through full immersion just came naturally. Suddenly the tongue entered with the tongue, which is the link of the earth. And it is an absolutely wonderful realization that we are so separated from in our so-called modern life, where we think of language as a means of communication. Language is much more than that. It is truly a tool, a vehicle of connection to each other and to the earth. And his is learned from the fact that he takes inner peace and unity in order to be able to complete what he had been working on for years: to revive and revive the Haida language.

‘All obligations are removed and we are just focused on our safety, land, and language. It was as if we were in a ceremony.’

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I liked it when Sabrina said: “All obligations are removed and we are just focused on our safety, land, and language. As if we were in a ceremony. So the pandemic was kind of a blessing. His children used the language not only at home, but also with occupations in which the tradition of ecological knowledge was passed down through the generations. Both of his sons participated in the first octopus hunt, for example.

LUISA: There are some fantastic images in that story, one of which is a photo of the older boy Severn learning from his grandpa how to stroke an octopus!

Chinaay (Grandfather) G̱angxwaat (Dull Brown) shows his grandson Ganhlaans how to drive an octopus as part of his Haida language during the 2020 pandemic lockdown, Haida Gwaii, Canada. Photo: Kihlgula G̱aay.ya (Severn Cullis-Suzuki)

Now I would like some space for the three of you to ask questions from others or to share reflections.

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LUISA: I could start by asking both Radhika and Simon. This paradox of cultural restriction in both communities, which you mentioned in fact, seems to have led to a sense of reciprocity between people in the community, but also respect and a relationship with the natural world. Is this your impression, and do you think it will continue after the pandemic?

RADHIKA: In the vault in 2020, the first thing was that people were very worried about whether they could get food. At first there was no set plan for which shops would be open, so many were dependent

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