Showing posts with label folklore. Show all posts
Showing posts with label folklore. Show all posts

Montagnard Food at UNCSA

SPRING ROLL RECIPE: How food leads to life stories
PART OF OUR WORK WITH UNCSA DMA-DEGA PROJECT


As part of our collaboration with Bob King and his UNCSA students, our two lay health workers demonstrated how to make spring rolls — a decidedly Vietnamese dish —which lead to the telling of a story about living in the jungle to escape war, the scarcity of food then, the importance of food today and her mother's influence. Filmed in May, 2011in Winston-Salem, NC.

Postscript: The storyteller's mother died in Vietnam in June 2011, a month after this video was made. She was probably between 90 and 98 — maybe not quite 100 years old as told in the story — but  clearly the eldest in her village.

Transcription (with interpretation to make the speaker's answers clearer):

Question: How old were you when you went to the jungle?

I was twelve... No eleven years old (in 1979).

I had been in the jungle for twelve years. Then I came to the USA in 1992. Now I'm 43. That was long ago!

I gave birth to two babies — two kids — in the jungle. I gave birth to them myself, no doctor, no people to take care of them. I took care of them myself. I cut the umbilical cord myself, I did it by myself. I took care of two kids in the jungle.

Then one girl was born over here in the USA. I had a doctor over here. Then my family felt hurt. They cried for me. Because why? Because they didn't know where I was. Because some people didn't know. Why did you stay there like that (in the jungle out of contact)?

Then my dad died. I don't know. My mom, my mom's 100 right now. Yeah, my mom's 100 now. She's old, old, very old.

I take care of her right now. I say to her, "I still borrow your money." I tell my mom and dad — my dad is gone now — but I tell my mom, "I still borrow from you."

"Why do you say 'I borrow?'"

Because she took care of me!

Then when I get money— even just a little bit — I send it to her. Yes.

Then I explain to her, "I borrowed your money". But I didn't borrow her money really, but she fed me and took care of me.

So I pay her back.

"When I send this money back to you, I repay you." I say it like that.

She cries. She says I'm a smart girl — but I'm not smart because I didn't want to tell my mom and my dad and my family I didn't want to go to school because I was a girl and it would be better if I help my dad. Yes, I helped my dad.

I helped my mom by farming and helping to feed everybody in the house. When I had to leave there was nothing I could do to help them.

And I went in the jungle so I could not go to school. So now, I don't know how to read and write. But I speak English a little — not a lot — just a little. I speak Jarai, Bunong, Rhade, Koho, Vietnamese and English.

I speak a lot!

Question: Why did you have to go to the jungle?

Why? Because — I don't know. I was too young to understand.

(At another interview Kwol explained that the Viet Cong came to her village a few days earlier and forced her to stand in a latrine up to her neck for a full day, pressing her to give names of dissidents in the Montagnard community.)

I went to work. I remembered helping my dad and my mom and my sister, my ex's sister, my family. I have ten family members. I'm the baby. I'm the youngest so I helped my dad with his farm work.

A man already hiding in the jungle said the Viet Cong are going to take me from the farm. At our farm we grew rice, coffee, and someone was coming to get me. I don't know.

Question: You don't know?

I didn't know anything. I cried and cried. I cried everyday. I stayed in the jungle and the next day I woke up and I wanted to see my mom. Where's my mom? Someone said, you stay here without her. I had my brothers with me, two brothers, but both died. My brother in law died. My sister's son, he died. Then there was only me. Five of us fled to the jungle. But all but me died.

Question: They died of illness?

They died in the jungle. By the Viet Cong they were killed. The Viet Cong killed them.

Then I went back to see my mom because it was a such a long time — in 2003. My mom didn't recognize me.

She said, "You're not my daughter." Yes, it's true. She said, "You're not my daughter."

I said, "No, it's me, Kwol."

"No, you died. Kwol died long ago," she said it like that.

"No, it's me", I said it like that. Then I took her and cried and cried.

I hugged her and she said, "You smell different." Because here in the US it's different than in Vietnam, where there's no food or anything. So that's why she said I smelled different.

But I don't know, I still remember when I stayed in the jungle and I ate food — I ate anything. I still remember this.

Sometimes I when I tell my story to my mom, my mom says, "Yeah, if you don't remember this you'll forget it."

She says, "You'll forget it." 

"You stay in America. You've made a good life."

She says I've got a good life here and freedom. Freedom and I've got food to eat.

"You feed your kids."

My mom tells me that.

Kubler and the Refugee Experience

The survival of the native languages is only an apparent exception to the rule of symbolic extinction.— George Kubler
A poncho from Peru, circa 900 AD

George Kubler's Colonial Extinction of the Motifs of Pre-Columbian Art  (1961) theorizes the relationship between an overwhelmingly dominant culture as it extinguishes a weaker one. Perhaps his model can be used to understand the current situation of refugees and explain the real challenges faced by those who attempt to build, preserve and promote their communities while redirecting the power of those in the dominant culture towards reciprocal acculturation (sharing, mutual respect) and away from benign neglect, coercion, threats or force.

Kubler catalogs the responses of the weak as they salvage whatever they can of their past life while living under the constant pressure and demands of a powerful new culture. Of the five he lists, four should be avoided because they lead to the elimination of the weak by the strong.

“Convergence”, or the convergence of interests between the dominant and weak, is a matter of appearances like the trick of perspective that implies railroad tracks meet in the distance. Those in power are never threatened with face to face encounters with the weak. For the many Montagnard congregations here in the Piedmont, Christianity is an example of convergence, the appearance of shared values between themselves and mainstream churches. Both sides have reasons to maintain the illusion of a common mission but American faith-based organizations and mainstream churches have an especially big stake. They have been in the forefront of refugee resettlement in Greensboro and have recently been subjected to sharp criticism which eventually resulted in one agency quitting the region. A real encounter with all cultural obstacles removed and the playing field leveled would assign blame and reveal the current system for what it is — a mess. So what do Montagnard churches get out this? Surprisingly, they get the freedom to be left alone to tend to their people as they see fit.

Kubler uses the term “explants” to mean the brief continuation of traditional habits or activities (also non-threatening) that eventually whither under the dominant culture. Some refugees believe in the power of amulets and one was amazed that their power could work here in America, protecting its wearer from a hail of bullets during a forced house entry. But it’s unlikely the children of this refugee will share her belief. The remarkable stories of many Montagnards, especially women, are probably destined to go unnoticed and unrecorded however rich their oral culture may be, because the transition from a preliterate society to a collection of detribalized literates (to borrow from McCluhan) is consistent with  funded refugee resettlement practices. What will live on? Probably the selective stories of combat and political struggle as described by Montagnard men who fought alongside Americans and recorded by Special Forces vets who have an interest in the shaping and retelling of these tales. (Notice that the illustration at the end of this entry depicting a Montagnard crossbow breaks with this narrative, suggesting some Montagnards were attacking American forces.)

“Transplants” represent isolated pieces from the weaker culture transplanted into the “soil” of the dominant culture. In the Montagnard community, this literally means growing kabocha squash, bitter melon or water spinach in Greensboro backyards or in buckets and boxes arranged to catch sunlight in the city's rundown apartment complexes. None of these vegetables are in the normal American diet and refugees’ little garden plots are rarely considered a threat to American norms. If local mainstream residents ever discover the healthy benefits of eating a more diversified, locally grown supply of food (that is, if it ever becomes “hip” in Greensboro to eat Thai eggplant, squash tendrils, etc.) then transplanted habits might “take” more firmly in Piedmont dirt. Today the reality is different. Chronic diseases caused by poor diet and lack of exercise plague the Montagnard population, whose health stats more and more resemble mainstream Americans’.

“Fragments” are distantly remembered forms and ideas that might be traced and retraced by survivors who have forgotten their symbolic meaning. Music and the arts can fall into this category. Refugee kids might mouth the words but not understand the context of songs. Weavers might create patterns but forget their origins in a world that has vanished. By Kubler's definition Art, which we tend to associate with reinvention and renewal, instead becomes the signpost of a downward spiral, pointing to the death of a culture. We're reminded of a textile expert who told us traditional weavers in Southeast Asia are dying out as traditional forms and symbols become industrialized, commercialized and sold us tourist items. Here in the Piedmont we see mostly old women, master weavers, with no pupils to inspire. Dock Rmah and Y Suk Bukrong are both skilled traditional musicians who are uncertain who will follow them. Maybe young artists like the rapper Mondega can spark a turnaround by initiating a dialog between generations.


Only the fifth response Kubler cites, “juxaposition”, offers the slim possibility of an intact survival of old ways. Reciprocal acculturation “of which there are very few examples in the history of Christianity” means a policy of listening to the needs and interests of refugee communities and working with them to create joint solutions, even while power disparities remain starkly drawn. A recent suggestion to locate a refugee welcome center at a popular international shopping complex was an example of accommodation in the spirit of juxtaposition. Its quick rejection by refugee resettlement specialists suggests that power, not collaboration or cooperation, continue to underly and guide most decision making about refugees in the Piedmont.

LEARNING FROM KUBLER: WHENEVER REFUGEES SUCCEED IN 
ALTERING AMERICAN BEHAVIOR, THEY HAVE THE CHANCE TO 
PRESERVE IMPORTANT PARTS OF THEIR CULTURE.

Agriculturist to agriculturist: An American farmer 
and ESOL teacher works alongside his students at 
community garden.

Refugee farmers learn about “lasagna gardening”...

... And quickly adopt their skills.

This team started a new community garden in a 
single morning.

International sustainability: Refugee farmers 
attended a Carolina Farm Stewardship Association 
conference on best practices and organic techniques.

Woman to woman: A university researcher is 
shown various food products by refugee women 
at their local ethnic store.

Artist to artist: Montagnard artist shares his portfolio 
on an iPod with a Canadian performance artist.

Artist to artists: A traditional Montagnard musician 
demonstrates before American student artists and musicians.

Youth to youth: University art students Skype with 
rapper Mondega (right), voted MTV Iggy Artist of 
the Week in December 2010.

An Amerasian learns how to tell her life story
 through digital media.

While video documenting a traditional recipe to 
students, a Montagnard woman connects her farm, 
her escape into the jungle, her relationship to 
her mother and the importance of food in her life. 

Electronic media used by refugees from oral societies to 
record their trip to UNCSA. McCluhan would approve.

Craftswomen meet: Two master weavers meet with 
an Australian expert and North Carolina fabric artists.

A Montagnard mom shares her spinning technique.

Communicating by doing. A master weaver from 
Vietnam with only rudimentary English skill
shows women weavers from Bhutan how to transfer 
the warp to the loom. A shared passion to continue 
their craft brought these women together.

Public health grad students interview a community health worker.


Lay health workers help a university
researcher to conduct interviews.

A lay health worker who never received formal
schooling in her country discusses emergency 
planning with her community.

Multilingualism versus ESOL. The celebration of 
the sounds of languages from oral societies. Many 
Montagnards speak 3, 4, 5 or 6 languages.
Translation of Census 2010 paid by a grant from the 
Southern Coalition for Social Justice.

The opening of the largest Montagnard-owned 
store attracted hundreds of neighbors including 
African-Americans, Latinos, and Asians to share 
food and music.

Kitchen to kitchen: A collaboration between refugee 
and American chefs to produce a new dish reflecting 
each chef's food traditions.

An American chef, immigrant chef, and Bhutanese
refugee mom create a collaborative dish.

Refugee and American chefs share the stage.

 
Iraq meets America: A group effort

 Food as a medium for communication. 
The interviewer is a blogger and media 
specialist. The respondent is a refugee
who rarely has the opportunity to share 
her culture with mainstream Americans.


Public presentation of collaborative dishes in Winston-Salem.

Kubler goes on to explain which bits and pieces are likely to survive cultural cataclysm. In the example of the destruction by the Spaniards of native American culture, he dashes hopes for finding evidence of surviving old customs — so fast, powerful and complete was the overthrow of traditional life. As we consider today how modernity and consumerism have swiftly crushed traditional peoples, Kubler the forensic investigator details the process of destruction and where to look for remains. Original religious beliefs are first to collapse, followed by the arts, then symbolic knowledge such as language. Crafts are rarely viewed by the dominant culture to be a threat and so will persist for a longer period of time. Local agricultural knowledge may be too useful to entirely disappear. Applied to Montagnard culture, we see Kubler's model at work. Christianity replaced traditional religion after decades of war and dislocation and by the late 1960s seems to have been firmly in place, well before refugees began to arrive in the US. Today few women know how to weave and only some recall how to play traditional instruments. The pressures to learn English quickly upon their arrival here in the US cause many parents to worry their children will forget their tribal language. As they punch the clock at the start of their shift at the poultry plant, they may recall their lives as agriculturalists, skilled foragers and farmers with some remaining knowledge about raising plants and caring for animals.

Then they will be Americans. Then they will be just like us. By current standards, this is success.

Culture raffle today. “Apparently there is nothing that cannot happen.” — Mark Twain

The antidote to Kubler’s devastating assessment of Spanish power in the New World is the plea by anthropologist Wade Davis to regard traditional people not as failed attempts to be like us, but rather to see them as equals faced with the same profound questions about what it means to be human. McCluhan specifically identifies artists as specialists able to deal with and respond to collapse, change, and revolutionary technologies. And it is they who most easily connect to the refugee experience because they are attuned to the fundamental cultural struggle they're engaged in. For these reasons, we have supported direct exchanges between refugee and mainstream creatives and artists. To reconsider the presence of thousands of refugees who now call Greensboro or Guilford County their home in this light would be to reconsider the policies and practices that treat them as social problems. It would make us question the agencies that carry out these policies under the banner of faith (or limited budgets) and ask if there are not better models for community building and dialog?

Southeast Asian Bob becomes American Bob, courtesy of Face of the Future

Culture First



9. Cultural Preservation Working closely with partner Betsy Renfrew, and Pastor Y Hin, we are developing a project to help refugee women from Southeast Asian preserve backstrap weaving and promote its practice.
     • Kubler and the Refugee Experience
     • Backstrap Weavers Web site
     • Ju Nie at the Green Hill Center Winter Show 
     • A Spring 2011 project with UNC School of the Arts digital media classes

Montagnard community members have kept copies of historical information. Along with other existing translated texts, these could form the raw material for native language classes, an interest expressed by leaders.
     • A 1939 Rhade Primer
     • A Vietnam War-era Bunong phrase book

Visual memory can also help preserve the past.
      • See Chram's drawings

Music is connected with dance.
      • A rehearsal of ching (gong) players before the Dega Weatherspoon event.

American vets who supported resettlement of Montagnards are getting older and may be interested in looking back at their shared past and considering the future of the Montagnard American community.
     • We've just started making contacts