By Day, By Night. Writings on Art. By Edmund Alleyn. Edited by Jennifer Alleyn and Gilles Lapointe. les editions du passage 2013

This slim volume is the first in a hopefully long series of books on art. As the title might indicate, it contains notes, aphorisms and other musings by Edmund Alleyn written during different periods of his life under the influence of different emotions. His daughter Jennifer Alleyn, a documentary filmmaker and Gilles Lapointe, a professor at the University of Quebec in Montreal, have jointly edited this compendium. Some of the texts have been translated from their original French versions by Louise Ashcroft whereas others appear in their original English version. You guessed it. Painter Edmund Alleyn -1931-2004- was the quintessential, or at least ideal, Canadian: a truly bilingual man.

At first glance, these writings are reminiscent of John Berger’s Ways of Seeing, but this impression is ephemeral. Berger is a writer expounding on the aesthetics of painting, Alleyn was a painter expounding on the thoughts that images triggered in his mind. Do not be fooled: this dense booklet is deeply cerebral. And erotic as well, as exemplified by a short piece of fiction.The black and white illustrations are oniric and the whole oeuvre invites the reader to enter a trance-like state.

As Edmund Alleyn put it: “Art is perhaps the fiction essential to protecting humanity from truth.

Canada supports one of the most expensive education systems in the world; yet four out of 10 graduates from the secondary school system do not have the minimum level of essential skills required to function adequately within the workforce.

Professional occupations that cannot find skilled people often have to reduce the minimum level of job requirements in order to fill empty positions.

How do we address these gaps? The most serious skill shortages are within jobs that require an average level of skills; and the good news is that with a small investment of 40 individual hours of intervention, the skill levels of a significant number of Canadian adults can be increased to functional levels. This would result in increased productivity and opportunities for those who would otherwise be left behind. However despite our investments to date, Canada is still lagging behind countries like China.

The federal government has recently announced a Job Grants Program to encourage the private sector into contributing $5,000 to support the training of an employee. As an incentive, this amount is to be matched by provincial/territorial and federal governments, bringing the total up to $15,000 for the training of a single employee. It is an effort to address the weaknesses of a lame K to 12 system and adult education programs fraught with jurisdictional barriers and siloed approaches. Will this work where other methods have not? Who will access these training dollars? Who will provide the training? Who will evaluate, and what will be the measures used? At the very least, are we ready to come together to offer a consistent approach to skill development?

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Education is an important determinant of health and economic growth, and with the increasing use of technology across all sectors, the minimum level of skills required to function at home and the workplace is also increasing. As Canadians, how do we compare internationally with respect to our employability skills and functional literacy? How skilled are we in comparison with adults in other countries? Answers to these questions are good predictors of our future strength and prosperity as a country.

The history of adult literacy in Canada is based on a series of surveys. The very first one, undertaken in 1985, called the “Literacy Skills Used in Daily Activities” (LSUDA), was a wake-up call, and an indication that we might have a problem. This resulted in Peter Calamai’s groundbreaking report, Broken Words. Subsequently, Canada participated in the first multi-year, multi-language assessment of adult literacy in 1994-95. This was called the International Adult Literacy Survey (IALS) in which literacy was measured in terms of prose, document, and quantitative literacy. According to the survey, 43 percent of Canadians between the ages of 16 and 65 scored at the lowest two levels of literacy. Level three (out of five) was identified as being the minimum level required for an individual to function adequately in Canadian society.

In 2003, The International Adult Literacy and Skills Survey (IALSS) was undertaken as the Canadian component of the Adult Literacy and Life Skills Survey (ALL). Supported in part by the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD), the ALL is a comparative study of Prose, Document and Quantitative literacy in 12 countries: Australia, Belgium, Canada, Germany, Ireland, the Netherlands, New Zealand, Poland, Sweden, Switzerland, the UK and the USA. The survey found that Canadian skill levels had not increased significantly from the 1994 survey.

The most recent survey, scheduled to be released later in 2013, is called the Programme for the International Assessment of Adult Competencies (PIACC). It builds upon the earlier understanding of literacy, and makes it more relevant by including the skills of reading in digital environments.

La Cour suprême de Justice, Ciudad de Guatemala, 19 mars 2013.

“À leurs yeux, nous n’étions pas humains.”
Le début d’un procès historique: le général Efraín Rios Montt accusé de génocide et de crimes contre l’humanité. Les survivants témoignent. La droite contre-attaque et paralyse le processus.
Guatemala, mars-avril 2013

N.B. MISE-À-JOUR: Dans un contexte difficile, le procès redémarre le 30 avril; après sept autres jours de témoignages et de plaidoyers, le tribunal dicte sa sentence le 10 mai 2013: Jose Mauricio Rodriguez Sanchez est acquitté, Efrain Rios Montt est jugé coupable et condamné à 80 ans de prison (50 pour génocide et 30 pour crimes contre l’humanité). En date du 11 mai, l’ancien général est le détenu numéro 19 de Quartier général de Matamoros, un centre pour prisonniers de “haute vulnérabilité”. On peut s’attendre à des recours juridiques dans le proche futur.

C’était comme dans un roman. Le général octogénaire face à ses accusateurs, les avocats de la poursuite : le Ministère public, les associations qui représentent légalement les victimes: A.J.R. (Asociación para justícia y reconciliación) et CALDH (Centro para la acción legal en derechos humanos). À la gauche du général, le tribunal: la juge Jazmín Barrios et deux collègues. De chaque côté du général, son co-accusé et leurs avocats. À sa droite, la salle: les observateurs, la presse, des survivants du conflit, et ses propres amis. À mi-chemin entre lui et les avocats de la poursuite, une petite table et deux chaises: une pour les témoins, et l’autre pour d’éventuels traducteurs de la cour, si les témoins parlent l’Ixil ou une autre langue maya.

Voilà la scène du procès qui démarre le 19 mars 2013 – 31 ans après les faits en cause – contre le général Jose Efraín Rios Montt, ancien président, militaire à la retraite, et Jose Mauricio Rodriguez Sanchez, ancien chef de l’intelligence militaire. Cela aura pris une douzaine d’années de démarches et de persévérance de la part d’un groupe d’avocats, face à d’innombrables appels et recours utilisés par les avocats des militaires. Au 20e jour du procès – le 18 avril – la journée se termine avec une nouvelle désastreuse: une autre juge, d’une autre instance, annule le procès et ordonne que les procédures soient invalidées à partir du 23 novembre 2011. Victoire pour la défense, et un véritable outrage à la centaine de victimes et d’experts venus offrir leurs témoignages. Les jours suivants,  requêtes et appels sont déposés pour contester et faire annuler cette grave décision. Il faut dire que depuis quelques jours, les secteurs opposés au procès avaient monté une intense campagne d’annonces payées dans les journaux pour exprimer leur rejet.

* * *

Dans le cadre du procès, les militaires sont accusés d’être les auteurs intellectuels d’un génocide et de crimes contre l’humanité. Le cas choisi est emblématique. Entre mars 1982 et août 1983 (la phase où Rios Montt était au pouvoir), l’armée a massacré 1,771 Ixils et s’est livré à d’autres crimes: viols, torture, brutalités, destruction de maisons, pillage ou destruction de récoltes et de biens, déplacement forcé de 29,000 personnes. Bref, le supplice collectif de la population civile d’une région montagneuse connue sous le nom de Triangle Ixil, à l’ouest de la capitale. Si ce cas a été choisi parmi tant d’autres, c’est aussi parce que l’État soutenait publiquement que cette communauté était considérée comme ennemi interne. Pour prouver le cas de génocide il faut en effet soumettre les preuves de son intention.

La ferveur anti-communiste du général Rios Montt, en ligne avec l’idéologie américaine préconisée dans le cadre de la Guerre froide, l’avait amené à concevoir et mettre en pratique une politique de terre brûlée à l’encontre d’une partie de la population guatémaltèque qui risquait de s’identifier avec les motifs de la lutte armée (une critique de la distribution inéquitable des ressources nationales). Les campagnes militaires de l’État s’organisaient donc autour de la terreur: exterminations, torture, déplacements, et parfois aussi re-localisation dans des villages-modèles sous le contrôle de l’armée, ce qui aboutissait à une autre forme d’extermination, culturelle cette fois-ci.

L’extrême-droite, les militaires et une partie de l’opinion publique contestent cette version de l’histoire, soutenant qu’il ne s’agissait ni de génocide ni même de massacres, mais d’une confrontation entre l’État et les forces insurrectionnelles: des civils se seraient trouvés piégés entre des tirs croisés. Certains vont jusqu’à dire, sans offrir de preuves, que s’il y eut des massacres, la guérilla est à blâmer, pas l’Armée. Le génocide, selon un des avocats de la défense, est un concept importé de l’étranger, et d’opulentes organisations venues de loin ont payé des montagnes d’euros en échange de faux témoignages.

Mais s’il y a un tel rejet du procès, c’est que les preuves sont accablantes. Les régimes militaires ont voulu éliminer leurs opposants et des secteurs civils, et tous les récits coïncident : tueries, enlèvements, disparitions, menaces, harcèlements, fuite. Depuis 1992, les experts-légistes déterrent les restes des massacrés et assassinés trouvés dans les cimetières clandestins et les fosses communes. L’étude scientifique des ossements confirme les récits des survivants à propos des événements. Maintenant des preuves d’ADN déterminent l’identité de certaines victimes d’exécutions extrajudiciaires. Un document militaire, dit “Diario militar”, a fait surface, dressant la liste de 183 individus enlevés et disparus. Les archives de la police sont sous la loupe des chercheurs.

* * *

Une offrande florale aux victimes des régimes militaires et des pancartes consacrées à des femmes assassinées, à l’entrée de la Cour suprême de Justice.

Devant le Palais de Justice, tôt le matin du 19 mars, un groupe arrange une offrande aux victimes: un tapis d’aiguilles de pin, des pétales de rose, d’oeillets, de l’encens, des chandelles. On a aussi placé des photos-portraits de femmes disparues ou assassinées pendant le conflit. Des banderoles commémoratives accrochées aux murs exigent vérité et justice. Une file d’attente s’est formée. Les premiers à entrer sont les journalistes et les victimes du conflit qui appartiennent à l’AJR. À l’intérieur, la presse s’agglutine autour du général Rios Montt dès qu’il apparaît. Assise en première rangée, Rigoberta Menchu Tum, Prix Nobel de la Paix, à deux mètres de Zury Rios Sosa, fille de Rios Montt.

File d’attente pour entrer dans la salle du procès.

La presse se regroupe autour du Général Rios Montt lors de son entrée dans la salle.

En première rangée, Rigoberta Menchu Tum, Prix Nobel de la Paix, et au fond, le Général Rios Montt, son co-accusé (en arrière), et leurs avocats.

La séance commence. Pendant presque trois heures, les avocats de la défense cherchent à faire dérailler le procès, faisant appel à des articles de loi et d’autres raisons pour exiger son annulation ou obtenir de nouveaux délais. Le ton de leurs interventions est de plus en plus hostile. Le tribunal répond à chacune en rejetant les objections fondamentales. Après ce théâtre de l’absurde, la juge saisit soudainement le marteau, frappe la table avec détermination et déclare le procès ouvert. Les avocats de la poursuite offrent des préambules éloquents et passionnés. Ceux de la défense tentent de nouvelles esquives et attaques, mais la juge les remet sur le droit chemin: qu’ils présentent enfin leurs cas. Après encore un assaut de la défense, la juge, excédée, ordonne le départ d’un des avocats et relègue ses fonctions à un des autres, qui s’y oppose. Elle peut enfin terminer la lecture des accusations dans leur détail. Les accusés déclarent en avoir pris connaissance.

Un témoin Ixil prête serment.

Après ce début chaotique, le procès s’achemine. L’après-midi, et les jours suivants, les témoins se succèdent, avec leurs récits déchirants, en réponse aux questions des avocats de la poursuite, suivies de celles de la défense (de nouveaux avocats sont venus remplacer l’avocat expulsé). Nous écoutons chacun des témoignages, et pour beaucoup d’observateurs présents, c’est loin d’être la première fois. Mais cette fois-ci on ne peut refouler une certaine satisfaction, car les accusés doivent aussi écouter. Qui est mort? Soeurs et frères, parents et grands-parents, enfants, bébés, oncles et tantes, neveux et nièce. Comment? Poignardés, tués par balle, décapités, brûlés vifs, tués à coups de machette, étranglés, la gorge tranchée, torturés. Et votre fuite dans la montagne? On devait se déplacer constamment, on n’avait rien à manger, des enfants et des aînés sont morts de faim, d’autres sous les bombardements. La journée du 2 avril fut consacré aux témoignages de viols par les soldats et les cadres militaires: plusieurs des victimes étaient mineures ou enceintes.

Cyniques, les avocats de la défense se plaignent du caractère répétitif des témoignages. Si les actes répressifs n’étaient pas abominablement répétitifs, les témoignages ne le seraient pas non plus. L’État major n’avait pas besoin d’envoyer ses troupes massacrer et terroriser l’entière région. Le cas du triangle Ixil, qui sert ici d’exemple, n’est qu’une des opérations militaires contre la population civile, parmi tant d’autres. Les auteurs des crimes devraient avoir à écouter 200,000 témoignages, pour chaque mort, chaque disparition du conflit, dont 93% tués par les forces de sécurité guatémaltèque (chiffres établis par la CEH, ou Commission d’éclaircissement historique (1) ).

* * *

Des femmes Ixil parmi les observateurs.

Malgré les progrès en termes de justice, le Guatemala se retrouve pris aujourd’hui dans un contexte polarisé, et la répression s’intensifie contre les mouvements sociaux. La liberté d’expression n’est pas un droit garanti. Des activistes impliqués dans la défense des droits des communautés, autochtones ou non, sont victimes de menaces, d’assauts, et fréquemment, les cibles d’assassinats. Le Canada a acquis une réputation des plus sinistres dans les milieux conscientisés du pays (populations rurales, écologistes, intellectuels, enseignants, étudiants, militants), car les luttes les plus exposées à une riposte violente sont celles axées sur l’exploitation de mines. Et les compagnies canadiennes sont au coeur de cette industrie.

Lolita Chavez, du Conseil des Peuples k’iche’, une des porte-parole du mouvement opposé aux abus des compagnies minières, a visité le Québec au mois de mars. Dans le cadre d’un important colloque à l’UQAM, “Plan Nord, Plans Sud. Expansion minière canadienne : criminalisation de la résistance dans les Amériques” (2), elle a encouragé les participants à réagir collectivement contre les injustices provoquées par nos industries. Le 17 mars, quatre leaders d’une communauté Xinca ont été enlevés à la sortie d’une réunion; le lendemain un d’eux, Exaltación Rámirez López, a été retrouvé mort. Cette communauté rejette le projet de mine Escobal de la compagnie minière Tahoe Resources, qui appartient à 40% à la minière canadienne Goldcorp. Deux semaines après, le gouvernement guatémaltèque accorde à la compagnie le permis d’extraction (3).

Ici au Canada, le gouvernement et les banques nous encouragent à investir dans le marché, à acheter des actions. Parmi les plus lucratives se trouvent celles des corporations minières. À la lumière de la violence générée par ces activités au Guatemala et ailleurs, il est temps de se poser de sérieuses questions sur ce genre d’investissement. S’il y a tant d’entraves à la justice au Guatemala, il faut intervenir ici. Non seulement pour soutenir les démarches en cours pour redresser les torts du passé, mais aussi pour dénoncer l’actuelle vague de répression.

* * *

Observateurs du procès, notamment des survivants venus de communautés mayas.

(*1) http://shr.aaas.org/guatemala/ceh/report/english/toc.html
(*2) http://www.paqg.org/node/216
(*3) http://rightsaction.org/action-content/tahoe-celebrates-mining-license-soon-after-kidnapping-four-men-and-murder-one-them

NB: En date du 23 avril, jour de cette publication, une bataille légale est en cours au sein du système judiciaire guatémaltèque, et le résultat final n’est pas encore connu.

photos © Mary Ellen Davis

http://www.maryellendavis.net

Dominique Normand provides us with eight pieces of art and four answers to questions posed by Serai’s Nilambri Ghai.

Your paintings, photographs, and films reflect centuries of Cree tradition and culture. What do you see as the future of this lifestyle in James Bay?

I sincerely hope that the unique lifestyle that I am privileged to witness and to participate in will remain alive and strong.  As long as there is a need for humans to renew themselves through nature, to become one again with the elements and there is a need to learn, practice and share skills that teach patience and beauty in art form honouring the rituals of human life on earth, I feel that there will be a need for the native culture to live on.

The Cree Nation of James Bay is extremely proud of its cultural heritage.  The nine communities are working diligently at developing new ways to stimulate the interest of the younger generation.  They create special programs in schools, traditional centers, sport centers and wellness centers to support the rich heritage that has kept the Cree culture alive. The community members are invited to learn and practice hunting, tanning, cooking, survival, arts and crafts, tool making, and sowing skills with the elders.

They record stories and legends from every region. We are currently working on the first of a series of films: “Tanning Moose Hide”.  I spent a few months recording each step involved in the making of a soft moose hide to be used for clothing, moccasins, mittens and bags.

IDLE NO MORE is a good example of the interest that the young Cree people have in protecting their land, their culture while making a statement in their own way. They are fearless, courageous and willing to make a difference.

I also see a new breed of young native people in the music world, strong individuals with unique and confident voices, churning the political scene:  Samian, Ceramony, A Tribe Called Red, Black Bear, Elisapie Isaac,  Chloe Ste-Marie.

Northern Quebec Native Culture still has a long way to go to be heard and understood by the Quebec population and in fact, by the world. Social Media has made a huge impact on their lives. Living in distant areas, they can now connect with family members afar and thus develop new contacts, allowing the sharing of their lifestyles.

I think that there will be a serious need for more understanding of the relationship that  Cree people have with the land and how they have been able to live closely and respectfully for so many years. We will eventually come to them to seek advice and they will finally be seen as whom they truly are, extremely generous, creative, courageous, resilient, open-hearted, sensitive people with amazing values and a strong sense of community.

Their culture, their ways, their philosophy and their wisdom will be recognized because the world has a real need for it at this time.

Your art brings mainstream Canada closer to the Cree of James Bay. What more could be done to remove the barriers that increase distance, isolation and exclusion?

I do not think distance is a problem any longer.  I travel 13 hours to Mistissini every two months.

I believe that we should invite the Cree Community elders, thinkers, musicians, poets, writers, politicians to work with us, to rebuild a world based on harmony, to participate in a plan that takes into consideration, our relationship with  Mother Nature, her critical needs and the importance of assuring the well-being of everyone within the community.

What is the one characteristic of the Cree that stands out for you as being the most critical for growth and success?

Autonomy

Native people were free-spirited beings.

This is how they were able to live in harmony with all of their relatives. By helping them become autonomous, we will help them regain their pride, strength and ability to help us recreate a society that cares for its people, its land and the living.

We are, as a Canadian society, in a very precarious place financially: the major working force that was the baby boomers in the past 30 – 40 years represents a huge percentage of people who will depend on government money for subsistence and medical care. At the same time, native population in Canada has grown 7 times in the last 15 years. There are a lot of young native people in this country. Most of them also depend on the government money. I believe that it is imperative to help the native population and assist them with appropriate business skills, professional advice and education in order to give them the necessary tools for a more autonomous economy and wellbeing.

How could Montreal Serai help in telling the Cree story the way it should be told?

Why not visit the communities to see for yourself?  Come to visit the summer gathering in August. I would be pleased to take you there if you wish.

Invite leaders to talk:  Ashley Iseroff-politician, Murray Neeposh and Jane Blacksmith- Tradition and Social Development.

Present my films (The Gathering, Tanning Moose Hide, two more films to follow on the subject of the Annual Journey Walk and then next February, Fishing with a Net and Trapping Beaver).

Visit the Nishiyuu page on Facebook to learn more about their vision.  Seven young walkers left Wapmagoutsui 3 months ago by snowshoe to make a statement about the land claims and the natural resources in James Bay. They arrived on march 25 to address the prime minister with concerns. M. Harper was very busy greeting two Pandas from China.

I can also introduce you to some other cree artists, sculptors, painters, singers, story tellers.

Detail: Kastevæsenet

This document, Kastevæsenet, was written in Danish by Johanne Nielsen, who was born in November 1873, in Fiolstraede, a district located in the inner part of old Copenhagen. She was one of the few women to have completed the Upper Secondary School exit examination known as the studentereksamen. In recognition of this achievement, she was provided with funds to attend a conference in Stockholm where she met Shastri Bulaki Rama Chopra, a barrister from India. They fell immediately in love, and married in February 1895, much against the wishes of the Nielsen family.

Johanne arrived in India as a strange, new bride into a family that traced its origin from the great Kshatriya King, Lord Rama. She did not know that Bulaki Rama was already married, and a father of two children. She quickly learned the hierarchical discrimination faced by those who did not belong to an illustrious caste, and who had eaten meat, including that of the sacred cow. As a “white” (gori) woman from a different religion, Johanne’s identity was at once associated with the much-hated governing power of the British.

After her arrival in India, Johanne converted to Hinduism, and changed her name from Johanne to Janaki Bai. It is not known whether this was her own decision, or one forced upon her by her in-laws – a common enough custom that survives to this day, according to which a married woman is required to undergo a complete change of identity through new names given to her either by her husband or by senior members of his family. The document is a description of the main castes and sub-castes of India. Johanne narrates an incident that exemplifies the kind of discrimination faced by the lowest, or the caste-less:

“…the lowest castes, such as street sweepers, were pariahs, and belonged to no caste. Originally they were descendants of the defeated inhabitants of India, the so called ‘Rakschasa’, who were despised and shunned by Hindus.  If a Hindu were unlucky enough to touch one of these wretches, he would have to undergo a thorough washing before he could be considered clean again. Here is a small example: one day there was a dead cat in one of our rooms.  To remove it, we had to call such a street sweeper or pariah because no Hindu would touch the dead animal. Before he was allowed in, the furniture and carpets where he would walk were all removed, so that they would not be defiled by his touch.  These poor souls were condemned to remain in a despicable position for their entire lives.” (Translated by Tina Tolgyesy)

Johanne wrote this document in Dera Ismail Khan, an administrative district during British India, located on the banks of the Indus River, south of Rawalpindi, and not far from bordering Afghanistan.

Excerpt from original Danish: Kastevæsenet

The caste system II

It is generally assumed that the caste system is derived from the people’s division into classes according to their different occupations, which over time were inherited and the caste system in this way established.  The word “caste” is called Varna in Sanskrit, which means color, hence it however is often concluded that people’s subdivision into casts was from the difference in the higher and lower classes skin color. Probably a mixture of several different communities formed the classic Arian people, where the more advanced societies formed the higher, the less advanced the lower castes. Hindus are divided generally it 2 groups. 1) the twice-born and 2) the Sudras
The 2 times born are divided into three castes
1) priests and scholars
2) warriors and rulers
3) merchants and arable growers
In the Sudras belonged
1) artisans and the serving class. For the second born meant inauguration to Hindu religious teaching, this ceremony taking place at 4 years of age. The boy was in old times dressed in a wild animal skin, tiger or antelope, and sent out to some learned Brahman, who then taught him religion and other required sciences, and with this teacher he lived this way until at 20 years of age he had completed his education, and only then went back to the ancestral home. Now it is not customary to send the children out to teachers for several years, and ceremonies of the second birth take place when the boy is ready to go to school.  This event usually takes place now without any festivities.  It is more in the old orthodox families that this event is celebrated as in older times with great festivities, the boy clothed in the tradition leather suit and sent a couple of hours out of the house. Women do not receive the second birth.
Fathers’ occupations were gradually inherited by the children as by experience it was learned that a particular proficiency was achieved in occupations by practicing the same occupation through several generations. It is clear that a warrior son is better suited for the work of a warrior than a merchant’s son, even if they live in the same conditions.  This is not seen much in Europe, as life’s occupations are of course not inherited, but in India there is conclusive evidence that men of the first caste generally excel in abstract sciences, mathematics, metaphysics, while they are [however] not permitted to join the army. I must note here that this classification of people according to their occupations also prevailed among the Egyptians and Persians in ancient times.  The caste division among the latter group is so completely equal to the Hindu [system] that you may be tempted to believe that caste division dates from the times when Hindu and Persian ancestors lived together.
Brahmans, who constitute the priest and scholar caste, represent the purest descent from the ancient Arians. In the oldest times they could enter into marriage with the daughters of lower castes, but later they carefully avoided marrying someone outside their own caste. It must be noted here that it is the Brahmans job to administer religious worshipping and ceremonies, but not to serve as priests in the temples. A Brahman, who in earlier times undertook a temple priest’s task/ministry lost his cast value/dignity.  It was incumbent upon them to be teachers in religion, to conduct religious celebrations, perform ceremonies such as marriages, which by the way it must be noted, always take place in the home and not in the temples [marriages only?], according to the written law.  However, in later times it became more and more the custom that Brahmans were temple priests and that employment is now considered their legitimate work, but usually it is people of the 3rd caste who administer such deeds/work. In ancient times Hindus built no temples, nor? [this could also be “and”] worshiped deities through idols. There is reason to believe that idolatry and the creation of temples was introduced here from Greece, by Buddhists, who in the first centuries of the Christian era ruled the regions lying between the Indian and Greek kingdoms. I will here in passing note that no non-Hindu, either Christian or Muslim is ever admitted to a Hindu temple and Hindus themselves may only walk barefoot in these holy places.

Kshatriya or the warrior caste is again divided into two classes, the sun born and the moon born. The former assumes to be related to the old Parser and Egyptian rulers, which also made ​​claim to be descended from the sun. The latter mentioned is probably of sajtisk? origin and is similar to Northern Europe Geter and Juter (Jutland). Kshatriya in the province of Panjab have from ancient times avoided marriage outside their own caste. Rajputerne, which constitute the majority of Kshatriya in the provinces of Rajputana and Central India have much foreign blood mixed in their caste, this is why a Kshatriya of pure blood will not give his daughter in marriage to a Rajput, and vice versa, although they both belong to the warrior castes.
In the times when it was customary for the victorious party to marry the vanquished daughters, the warrior classes had a great deal of foreign blood admitted to their caste. I will note here that in older times it was the custom, when a city was conquered, that before they surrendered it, the Hindus killed all the women, who themselves voluntary preferred choosing this heroic death than be marred by victorious lords; yes, not a half century ago this still took place, namely when the British who had vainly fought an Indian governor who ruled over the western Panjab, finally after 2 years got power over him, not by their own prowess but by treachery and bribery – but, before the governor, who incidentally even took poison to avoid being taken alive in British hands, surrendered the capital Multan and killed all the Hindu women in this city, who thus preferred an honorable death rather than the disgrace that would be added to them by the English.

The third cast includes several different categories such as Jats, who constitute most of the arable growing population in northern India, Baniaenu who are scattered all over India as merchants and money lenders, Kayastnerne, who for several generations now have served as clerks and a lot of other categories who are classified as Vaishyærne.

The fourth caste is like the third by also being divided into several hereditary occupations, such as the bricklayer, plumber, water carrier, barber and tailor caste etc.
All of these professions have now for several generations been inherited

The very lowest classes of people such as street sweepers, and pariahs belong to no caste. Originally they were descendants of Arian defeated ur inhabitants of India, the so called Rakschaer, who are despised and shunned by all other Hindus, who avoid any contact with them.  If a Hindu is unlucky enough to touch one of these wretches, he must undergo a thorough washing and henselse? before he can be considered clean again. Only here is a small example: one day there was a dead cat in one of our rooms.  To remove it, we had to call such a street sweeper or pariah because no Hindu will touch a dead animal, but before he was allowed in, the furniture and carpets where he would walk were removed, so they would not be defiled by his touch.  These poor souls are condemned to such a despicable position for their entire lives

Last page: Kastevæsenet

]]> http://montrealserai.com/2013/04/21/kastevaesenet-the-caste-system-ii/feed/ 0 http://montrealserai.com/2013/04/21/class-and-cultural-labels/ http://montrealserai.com/2013/04/21/class-and-cultural-labels/#comments Sun, 21 Apr 2013 16:16:38 +0000 Prasun http://montrealserai.com/?p=7475 “Il est comme un chauffeur de taxi!”

Which means he could be Black, Haitian, Iranian, incomprehensible, immigrant, shifty, or that he does not dress well, speaks in monosyllables and may not be a taxi driver at all. But, a “taxi driver” is at the bottom of the social ladder when it comes to classifications–a wee bit above, perhaps, the folks who walk down the pavement outside your house, hurling your trash into garbage trucks. If I had not heard someone make this comment recently, I would not have had the idea for the title of this reflection… And this is pretty much a good representation of class-based labeling in the society we live in.

Variants?  “She grew up in a barn!” In a semi-feudal, pre-industrial society, you would hear the same label with a different spin, “He talks like a servant.” Or, in a caste-ridden society, one would hear, “Look at him, just like a butcher, scavenger or a cobbler.”

Class has been defined, often with academic triteness, according to income level, wealth, living standards and behavior patterns. Class in Montreal and North America is often associated with where you live, how you live, how you were brought up, what schools you went to, whether you have refinements in food habits, in clothes, what cars you drive. But ultimately, it is a question of what’s in your bank account, or what you have inherited, which guarantees that you would not have to work for a living. And in that sense, class points towards the traditional historical convergence of Barons with Robbers and Thieves, of Rogues and Swindlers with Bankers and Industry Captains, all with a penchant for tax-dodging philanthropy.

Why Class is a confused notion in North America?

In North America, there are notions and definitions of class that have been purposefully grafted and redefined, so that the dreaded notion of  ”class warfare” can be skirted around.  After all, the notion of a “land of opportunity” or a “self-made man” pre-supposes that you can be born into a class and can grow out of it. So, if your parents were of an immigrant working class background–perhaps plumbers, gardeners and carpenters– it is quite possible that you will become an Engineer with an MBA and move into a gentrified neighborhood in no time. So, while you grew up eating red meat, pasta and hamburgers, you end up indulging in Nuevo Latino cuisine where the fish comes from private fisheries and the wine is imported directly without SAQ involvement. Class is all about how you conduct yourself.

–But, is it really?

In North America, Class is a broad spectral band of blending and overlapping economic “frequencies. Thinking of this spectrum in our minds, many of us see certain rough stereotypes.

The Working Class

People who do not have a college degree, have a small – or no – net worth, and who engage in physical work while living in rental housing or in heavily mortgaged homes. The working-class have little control over the conditions and kinds of work that they do.

The Lower-middle Class

These are families who have much in common with everyday working people, but they may own a small business in which the whole family is involved. They are not well-off, nor especially educated, but they do have some small measure of security.

You can get all races, cultures in the working class and political beliefs vary. While the majority is white, compared with the composition of the whole population, they are disproportionately people of color and women. A sense of affiliation, both ethnic and religious, is stronger among working-class and lower-middle class groups than it is among the middle-class above them.

Low-Income or Poor:

This group of people suffers from chronic insecurity, lack of work, dependence on welfare, a pattern of frequent disruptions of all the stable supports that shore up “The American Dream.” Again, people of colour and women are unjustly numerous in this group.

Equestrian portrait of Empress Elisabeth of Russia with a black servant

And, as the Idle No More movement has reminded citizens, Canada, as a part of its colonial legacy, calmly and ruthlessly consigns a disproportionate number of her First Nations peoples into the low-income category. According to a Study done by the Institute for Policy Alternatives (see   http://www.policyalternatives.ca/sites/default/files/uploads/publications/reports/docs/Aboriginal%20Income%20Gap.pdf)  ”Not only has the legacy of colonialism left Aboriginal peoples disproportionately ranked among the poorest of Canadians, this study reveals that the disturbing levels of income inequality continue to persist. In 2006, the median income for Aboriginal peoples was $18,962—30% lower than the $27,097 median income for the rest of Canadians. The difference of $8,135 that existed in 2006, however, was marginally smaller than the difference of $9,045 in 2001 or $9,428 in 1996.”

Then we have the Professional Middle Class:

These are folks who are typically college-educated, salaried and managers and their family members.

Disproportionately white, these people have university degrees, have frequently gone to private schools, are secure in their home ownership, enjoy considerable control over their work, experience more and longer economic security. They go on special trips, frequently to foreign destinations, they eat at restaurants, listen to concerts, and relish “the good life.” Their net worth gives them a cushion, and their pensions often depend on portfolios of equity holdings that can supply income when they cease to work. They have much in common with the class who are the real owners in the economic sphere.

Class of Owners:

This group of people in the United States owns a huge amount of the country’s wealth and its share has been continually increasing in the last 30 years. In his foreword to the well-known study of inequality, The Spirit Level (Bloomsbury Press 2010), former U.S. Secretary of Labor, Robert B. Reich observed: “The latest data shows that by 2007, America’s top 1 percent of earners received 23% of the nation’s total income – almost triple their 8 percent share in 1980.” And Reich adds: “Top investment bankers and traders take home even more than CEOs or most Hollywood stars. For the managers of twenty-six major hedge funds, the average take home pay in 2003 was $36.3 million, a 43 percent increase over their average earnings the year before. The Wall Street meltdown took its toll on some of those hedge funds and their managers, but by the end of 2009 many were back.”

These groups of people live in a world of their own. Their children, of both sexes, go to select prep schools, they vacation in Aspen, Colorado and the Swiss Alps, they control whole business sectors, and their lobbyists deeply influence almost every piece of congressional legislation. They have holdings and homes in the United States and across the globe.

Here incidentally, is a rather interesting and shocking statistical representation of income distribution in the United States. http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=QPKKQnijnsM

In Canada, with a population of some 33 million, there is also increasing income inequality, and the median total income for all Canadian families is now reduced to $69,860 (2010) from $74,000 (in 2007). (Source  http://rabble.ca/columnists/2013/03/number-never-just-number-what-middle-class) In other words, that’s right at the middle of all family total income earned in Canada in 2010. Half Canadians earned below it, while others earned above it. 

In reality Canada’s middle class is shrinking very rapidly.

3% of Canada’s population can be construed as upper class. They suck in 42% of the net income of the Canadian economy. The rest of the national income statistic is roughly divided into 40-50% of Canadians who belong to the middle classes with a larger percentage trending towards the lower middle class.  More than 1/3rd of Canada’s population belongs to the working class–the class that many upper class and middle class refer to as “taxi drivers” in their casual conversations.

Talking about Class

In the theory of Karl Marx– the German philosopher whose works are republished with absolute ferocity these days and whose readership has magnified several fold, especially after the 2008 meltdown, so much so that leading advisers to Clinton, Bush and even Reagan, quietly acknowledge that “he was right after all” (see Wall Street Journal interview of Dr. Nuriel Roubini   http://live.wsj.com/video/nouriel-roubini-karl-marx-was-right/68EE8F89-EC24-42F8-9B9D-47B510E473B0.html#!68EE8F89-EC24-42F8-9B9D-47B510E473B0 )—–there has always been a radically different perspective offered on Class.

In Marxist theory,  the class who own the means of production, the bourgeoisie, and the much larger proletariat who must sell their own labor power and do not own the means of production, but produce value, are the two main contending classes. So, it is not so much the ownership of property (which is a secondary result) that is all-important, but the fundamental fact of ownership of the means of production. This fundamental state of inequality, between those who sell labor and those who own it, with the consequent lack of power and decision-making ability for the working poor, is then stratified and normalized as social and cultural classes, and forms the basis of cultural ideology.

Class is thus both an objective and as well a subjective relationship. It is objective because each social class has a relationship with the means of production. It is subjective because, based on this relationship, a perceptive notion or class consciousness is built into society. Thus “common social concerns and fears” create the boundaries of class consciousness.

Most of us, who write, perform, compose and feel the need to express our deeply felt intellectual propensities—also belong to a class. It would be simplistic to suggest that we are all middle class. We are by nature cogs in the wheels of the owners of the means of production. We are the managers and administrators, small business owners, traders, the choreographers and streamliners of the basic and fundamental divide between owners and non-owners of the means of production. We are the petite-bourgeoisie.  But we have a choice.   And cultural ideology provides us with that conscious way to choose whose side we should be on.

Cultural Labels

In the context and time line we inhabit, there has been a continuous evocation of the spirit of the poor and the working class in music and cultural experimentation. “Whose side are you on?” Is the perennial question that is repeated every generation.  One tends to invoke the works of Pete Seeger, Woody Guthrie, Billy Bragg and occasionally the erratic constructs of Bob Dylan or Bruce Cockburn in Canada. But there has been a lot more in the pipeline. One remembers the “2-tone” band, the Specials and their exemplary song Ghost Town—down turn ska at its best. There have been various versions available over the years.  The band is still kicking around, but the frenetic ska has given over to slowed-down reggae, as the midriffs expand and the faces droop around the jowls.

And there has been the Asian Dub Foundation, whose charged political electronica, rapcore and Dub lyrics (http://www.asiandubfoundation.com/) , along with the Dub poetry of Linton Kwesi Johnson, inspired a whole generation of British Asians and Carribeans.

And finally, there is John Lennon.

Talking about persistent and transformative cultural heroes, there is someone whose influence, especially towards the end of his career, is remarkable and unmistakable in his choice of whose side he wanted to be on. In 2005, a two disc compilation of music by John Lennon was released.

Called Working Class Hero: the Definitive Lennon contains remixed and re-mastered versions of his songs. It did very well in UK, reaching the top of the charts. It fared poorly in the United States. Take a listen –

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Working_Class_Hero:_The_Definitive_Lennon

Of course, over the last year, there have been a bevy of other examples perhaps also worth citing, like Teju Cole’s “White Savior Industrial Complex” (The Atlantic) on last year’s KONY video farce; various articles citing like T’Cha Dunlevy’s “The Race is Off” (Montreal Gazette) regarding Hollywood’s apparent ethnocentric transgressions in films like Argo, Cloud Atlas, and Lincoln; Dark Zero Feminism by Zillah Eisenstein (Al Jazeera); Noam Chomsky’s “The Responsibility of Privilege” (Al Jazeera); Rachel Decoste’ s “The Whitewashing of Canadian Money” (Huff Post); the many views in the media of Django as a true black hero; the Africa for Norway fake charity; the Idle No More movement in general; and the very recent coverage of the re-emergence of Mexico’s Zapatista movement.

What all these scattered examples of an ethos of speaking about and against ethnocentrism have in common are that “the centre” is no longer just talking or being talked about, but being talked to/ back to, and or at least what is being alluded to, are “other stories and figures” that are emergent.

Such exposés and challenges to a “centric gaze on things”, have brought to mind an “incident” I was involved in some months ago, with the famed Canadian philosopher, Charles Taylor.

Two White Men

On November the 19th, I attended Professor Norman Cornett’s Dialogic Series forum to engage with the invited guest, philosopher Charles Taylor. The Dialogic Series forum’s main purpose is real dialogue with invited experts on various topics. There is no presentation. Audience members and the guest arrive, questions begin immediately and serious discussion ensues. The subject of discussion that night was to be the contentious Bouchard Taylor Commission on Reasonable Accommodation Related to Cultural Differences, co- chaired by Charles Taylor and Gerard Bouchard in 2007. The 2007 Commission covered topics like xenophobia, immigration, racism, Quebecois identity and Quebec’s secular future.

At the forum that night, an attendee named “David” witnessed the disturbing experience I had in an interaction with Charles Taylor. “David” wrote the following about my exchange with Charles Taylor on the Dialogic Series’ website:

“A man raised his hand and spoke, saying he had been writing a book called “Dear Charles.” He read a passage that I found searing. He asked “isn’t it a problem that neither you nor Mr. Bouchard is an immigrant? How can you understand what it is to immigrate here?” Professor Taylor’s response was essentially “we held consultations and immigrants came and told us what it was like.” He also added “we took a lot of taxis”…The young person, who by the way was black, seemed to be sulking throughout the rest of the session, occasionally raising his hand in vain. He was not called on – and I wish I’d raised my hand just to give him another turn. “Oppression is invisible to white men.” This is what I’ve always been told and this has been my experience about privilege. Most of society conspires to conceal oppression from white people, especially men, and it has taken me and every white person I know, a tremendous amount of time and effort to learn about the lived experience of people of a race, or women, or anyone LGBTQ, or from a different class.  I do believe that Professor Taylor probably did a better job than I would have done, but  the gentleman’s question remained  unanswered. http://haveyouexperienced.wordpress.com/reflections/19-nov-2012-dialogues- au-gesu-charles-taylor/

The “young person, who by the way, was black” was of course myself and the observations I have been making on racial/ cultural exclusion in Quebec, loosely collected in a work provisionally titled “Dear Charles”, was what was referred to. The unanswered question was mine.

To be more precise, my unanswered question to Charles Taylor, was regarding whether he agreed there was a need for a mutuality in the discussions about rights, meaning you have to have intellectuals/thinkers from “minority” cultural communities at the same decision making table as the Taylors and Bouchards. Taylor refused to address my point. As “David” pointed out, “the gentleman’s question remains unanswered….”

Further, as I stated that night, Taylor and Bouchard are formidable intellectuals, but they are not immigrants in danger of not being accommodated. And, as was very clearly quoted by Amy Gutmann, in the introduction to a book of essays on Multiculturalism, Charles Taylor in fact was a part of what “the German philosopher Jurgen Habermas argues that equal protection under the law is not enough to constitute a constitutional democracy. We must not only be equal under the law, we must also be able to understand ourselves as the authors of the laws that bind us”. (Multiculturalism, Princeton University Press 1994, Ed. Amy Gutmann).

Therefore, if one takes this quote to heart, there is an absolute imperative to include intellectuals/ thinkers from “minority” cultural communities at the forefront of the discussions in question.

In refusing to address my point, Taylor assumed the kind of arrogance and “absolute authorship” that excludes rather than brings to the table. Charles Taylor’s refusal certainly precludes me as a thinker of color from “ever” being an author of the laws that “govern me”.

Halfway through the event that night, after realizing that I was the only black male in a sea of subdued heads, I realized that Charles Taylor had no intention of addressing the questions I had asked. I was also not permitted any supplemental questions, as “David” noted:

“The young person, who by the way, was black, seemed to me to be sulking throughout the rest of the session, occasionally raising his hand in vain. He was not called on …”

In this respect, Charles Taylor was an absolute failure that night. To speak of the hallowed Charles Taylor and failure, in general, would of course be absurd, but one must begin to seriously take to heart the possibility of some criticism of his unquestioned authority on subjects of great importance to our provinces and country.

The other question I had asked Taylor was regarding the problematic nature of a “politics of recognizing” Others and the problematic nature/ language/ idea of “granting” Others rights – the very nature of it sounding like a feudal lord granting his subjects freedom. Again no bite from Taylor. And thus, halfway through the event and after those realizations of complete indifference to my questions, I had to ask myself a very honest question: Can two white men (Taylor and Bouchard) really take to task, not as a gloss, but rather in a seriously engaged fashion- the issue of racism and exclusion that they had broached in their Commission on Reasonable Accommodation, five years ago. Was the Commission on Reasonable Accommodation a mere theatrical exercise?

Having intellectuals from “minority” “cultural communities” (whose stake is being discussed after all) at the table in decision making positions with the Bouchards and the Taylors, can more reasonably insure that the real nature of the “state of emergency” at stake for “cultural communities” in Quebec, is not just “known” or “understood”, and then translated and streamlined into whatever report is produced. Instead, having competent intellectuals from “minority” “ cultural communities” who are not willing to acquiesce, ensures that the immediacy of the needs of these communities in relation to the “host” population becomes part of the very fabric of a report and not just a “concern” that may not be acted upon.

Dear Charles – Where is the consideration and engagement with immigrant intellectuals like Stuart Hall, Homi Bhabha, as in in the British context who have been vital to England’s own similar discussions. Is there a deliberate exclusion taking place in these discussions in Quebec? Yet another point of corruption? Theater?

Dear Charles – Where is the inclusion of young intellectuals from minority communities like myself in discussions that concern the very fabric of our lives in La Belle Province.

Dear Charles- A serious discussion on Accommodation Related to Cultural Differences has to have a coalescing with intellectuals from “minority“ “cultural communities” who are “native sons”, aware of the inner workings of Quebec, and not just those who are ready to acquiesce in the heat of discussions along and about those rights.

Charles Taylor slept on my questions and refused to answer or have any kind of mutual discussion with me as a thinker from my “cultural community”. The Commission on Reasonable Accommodations invited people from many “cultural communities” to bring their concerns, and one must ask if The Commission was a problematic one way street of “them” (immigrants) to “us” (Bouchard/ Taylor). Taylor and Bouchard, of course did say, they learned a lot from what people told them. The reality, however, is that “minorities” must not simply be given the stage to express, but in fact, must be in the foreground to dialogue not just to speak “to” those in positions of  authority.

The discussion, that November 19th evening at the Dialogic Series, was highlighted by a lot of self -congratulatory comments from the audience on “how we are not as racist as we used to be” in Quebec. There was one vital comment by a woman identifying herself as a Feminist and Muslim, “that what was needed was basic dialogue between citizens” (for instance, ”why do I wear a veil, what does it mean to me”). There was also one stand out set of questions which sought to really get the evening moving. These were made by the mixed race freelance journalist and filmmaker, Anita Aloisio.

Miss Aloisio, poised and eloquent, asked Taylor about his and Bouchard’s recommendation in the 2007 Commission regarding the competencies of newly arrived immigrants being recognized in highly specialized fields. She noted that Bouchard and Taylor’s own recommendations to address this was virtually still left unnoticed by the Quebec government. Miss Aloisio also asked about Quebec provincial owned media not reflecting the reality of Quebec’s demographics: a lack of content being produced by and reflective of the province’s cultural reality/ “cultural minorities” (we are also not looking for the age old ”immigrant story” type narrative).

As with my own questions to Charles Taylor, as Miss Aloisio stated, “Charles didn’t give me a clear answer- only that he agreed with me.” Again, as this witness “David” at the forum noticed, “the question remains unanswered….”

Charles Taylor did say yes it was painful to see doctors and architects from the third world driving taxis in Quebec for the rest of their lives, but he also showed a kind of distanced engagement. His unclear answer, to Miss Aloisio, was stoic, distant, muted, and effectively an act of silence towards Miss Aloisio, another thinker of color.

Charles Taylor did concede with her that these deep racisms are painfully real/crippling/persistent issues without resolve in Quebec, but it did not seem that the man, whose name is used for the country’s most prestigious non-fiction literary prize, was ready to “throw on a Carre Rouge” and fight for these glaringly missing rights.

In another context, Charles Taylor has spoken about tone and piousness being key in addressing these social issues. However, one must realistically question such an approach in the very “rebel cities” (the term is David Harvey’s) we are now inhabiting, and in a deeply corruption-plagued Quebec. Certainly, the gentleman “David” who wrote about Taylor’s refusal to answer me, probably would have agreed that I should have dropped my patient tone and piousness, and demanded an engagement from Taylor.

The Baby

A real pointed discussion, which would go beyond what Charles Taylor refers to as the importance of “tone” or the “pious”, knows that muffled exchanges on serious topics are no longer a possibility.

Public intellectuals have a duty to doubly seek out exchanges on equal platforms. Yes, exchanges possibly with pious and tempered tones, but ultimately deep meaningful exchanges that address a Quebec, tottering on a daily basis, from its civic to its provincial present realities and proclivities- where a kind of social death seems to be hanging over public and private space. The paradoxes, complexities, and challenges of understanding the intricacies of private and public space (exclusion, isolation, malaise) must be addressed by public thinkers from all communities working together to look for equally intricate resolutions to encapsulate diverse yet colliding views and consciousness’ within a shared space, on equal planes.

As I did read to Taylor that night,

The nation grows its own tentacles, its tentacles reach back into it, its adherents become its detractors, its detractors become its adherents, and then one hopes the nation will not be built up again and again. One hopes that the nation’s optical nature will be apparent, translucent to all who walk along its glass highway, suspended above the banks and the green spaces and the oceans…

Yes, we cannot continue to build the Quebecois social space back up the way it has been in the past. This requires serious exchange among thinkers from all communities.

Dear Charles, this is a utopic hope for something nascent. The “baby’ in question is a very propitious baby that would be unicultural, cosmopolitan, multilingual multicultural, intercultural, dipped in the Printemps Erable with the weight and poise of an Ondatjee, sounding like bands like The Dears, Godspeed, with tones like singers like Lhasa de Sela, sardonic like Sean Nicholas Savage , Ira Lee or Beaver Shepard, with breadth like the pianist Chilly Gonzalez, and willing to experiment with new forms like poets Erin Moure, Oana Avilaschoei, Kaie Kellough – all arbiters of cool experimental creativity- and therein lies somewhere in the reaches a new generation of critical “minority” thinkers, whose parents or themselves came from elsewhere, ready and willing to engage as central characters in a discussion which involves them and their society’s future here in Quebec.

Dear Charles…Dear Charles….

Poster on the wall of the Parc underpass leading to Van Horne

This edition of Montreal Serai is about “Class, Caste, and Cultural Labels.” Once again class has become a central social issue both in the industrialized world and in many other countries. The “Occupy Movement” in New York City made the division between the 1% and the 99% a global issue; then came upheaval in southern Europe, the Quebec student protests, and most recently “Idle No More” walkers and marchers.

Serai has brought together a series of contributions that display the various features of caste and class. We have three striking stories by women about social hierarchy in India. Nilambri Ghai’s “Another Home” gives readers a sensitive view into the life of a servant, Phula, “ not tall enough to reach the table.” Then “Ghunghroo,” by Anushree Varma, shows us the experience of an 8-year-old girl whose sudden encounter with a far poorer child is life-changing. Montreal writer (and occasional Serai film festival daily blogger) Maya Khankhoje casts an ironic eye on  “Tai’s Rules” by which a Brahmin widow uses a banana and tea to reject the Other, in this case her English sister-in-law. Khankhoje’s short essay, “The Second Caste,” appears as well in a nod to Simone de Beauvoir, with a reminder that gender is a kind of caste.

Marie-Thérèse Blanc, herself a lawyer as well as a literature teacher,  contrasts two kinds of law. A Western code based on judgement and punishment, and a Cree one, founded on interdependence and forgiveness. In “The Killing of Bin Laden: A Kaleidoscope View through the Lens of Bob Dylan,” writer David Ryback uses Dylan’s lyrics, and docu-fiction, to create a kind of cubist montage of the fissures of our time.

Lyricism of a direct and visual type appears in two new poems by Charlotte Hussey. Montreal writer Dawn McSweeney adds poems that are wry, strong, and wistful. Musician and poet, Chris Velan, gives us another kind of song in his piece called “Election Day.” Its grim speaker has “made it through the ages” because he’s “got your leaders in pocket.”

The velvet pockets of the one percent, however, seem slightly more frayed in Patrick Barnard’s “Class and Crisis,” and Barnard says that economic exploitation is reaching an intensity that threatens to produce a global collapse.

Closer to home, Montreal organizer and housing activist John Bradley examines two neighbourhoods in his own city and says that we do not live in a democracy when it comes to urban space. Montreal is the background as well  to Anne Cimon’s new book, reviewed here by Nilambri Ghai. And musician and poet Paul Serralheiro takes us on a complete tour of Montreal’s improvised music scene.

Merrianne Couture tells us about the people of Nicaragua as she reflects about her time there working on literacy and communication.

Finally, Daniel Goldsmith in “Who Am I?” looks beyond nationality and labels towards a deeper sense of self.

That is Montreal Serai for Spring 2013 – varied, lyrical, realistic, and up front. We hope you find images and thoughts here that reflect the world you know and perhaps some parts of it you do not.

Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, noted my mother. Sitting on the balcony, she was combing her long black hair. She held out the ivory comb in a long pale hand, an invitation for me to come to her,
but I turned away. It was a bad morning. When the istry came with our freshly-pressed clothes that smelled of the steam iron, my dress was missing. My beloved crimson silk dress. “I only want to wear that one!” I screamed at her. The woman looked at me, shocked, like the idol of the black goddess who puts her hand over her mouth when she sees a woman misbehaving in the temple. “Behave yourself!” shouted my mother, her white face aghast. “What’s gotten into you?” she hissed. I lowered my head, butting my mother hard in the belly. She slapped me on the cheek. She had never hit me before. My father had, once. He was far away, in our other home, in an icy country, over the sea. It felt the same, the slap, as if it had left a red handprint burning on my face. What stung was not the pain, but the betrayal. I fell onto the divan, crying. The istry began complaining about her own rebellious daughter, who, like me, was also eight. “She’ll turn out badly,
I know it––I got sick from eating green mangoes when I was pregnant with her,” she rued as she left.

“You’ll be infamous for this,” my mother warned me. “That woman will carry the story to every house and soon the whole colony will know what you are truly like.” Alone, I burnt in the flame of my shame. My mother exiled me from her love, her embraces, her perfume and warmth, and even her conversation for the rest of the morning. I skulked through the labyrinth of the house, sitting on its stairs as if they led to an ancient temple where I was to be a blood sacrifice. “Why can’t I stay with you?” I had asked my father before leaving him. “Because your mother needs you,” he said, and then pointed to my reflection in the dark mirror. “Or shall I send that girl with her, and keep you here with me?”

Parrots scissored their long green tails across the skies. Otherwise, everybody slept after lunch. Kantha, the cook, was in the kitchen, snoring and mumbling as she sat on the floor, propped against the wall. Lately, she was in as bad spirits as me. And I knew why. I had seen her fighting with one of the other servants, all because he had been looking at the next door maid drying her hair in the sun after her bath. What a thing to fight about! But it had made Kantha cry until he had kissed her. “Really, he’s young enough to be your son! Can’t you control yourself?” Tara spat at Kantha who was much older, but whose husband had long ago run away. When it was only the two of us, Kantha took nips out of a bottle she hid on a shelf behind the brass vessels. Cloudy and tarnished, the pots were supposed to be poisonous to cook in, so no one ever touched them. After she took a few swigs, Kantha would say things in a tribal dialect I didn’t understand…

Thirsty, I crept softly into the kitchen, hoping not to rouse her. But the tinkling bells round my ankles gave me away. Kantha’s purple face glared at me. “You! You should be happy! Look what beautiful ghunghroos your aunt gave you––no one ever gave me jewelry like that! What an ungrateful little slut you are! Torturing your poor mother! Isn’t it enough that she has so many troubles with your father’s wicked family! Can’t you hear her weeping half the time? You had better hope no monster comes to get you––why are you so bad?” I didn’t know why, but I was. It was my nature.

I left, my ghunghroos clinking. They were my consolation. A silver band round each ankle, with a frill of small round silver bells, each with a tiny slit. It made them look like fish, mouths agape, hungry. They were beautiful, musical and I had refused to take them off since the evening my aunt had taken me to buy them, in a narrow little shop in Chandni Chowk. “Ah, we’ve belled the cat” my uncle said, somewhat sadly, as I danced ahead of them. “True,” sighed my aunt. “They used to make the daughter-in-law wear them so they knew where she was, and if she was where she shouldn’t be!”

I oughtn’t have been going down to the dark stream behind our house, but that is where I went, eventually.

I was bored, restless, sad. All my books were read, several times over. I stood at the bedroom window, looking down. Below, behind the house, sagged a few yellow mud huts amid snaking trees. They tumbled down to a glittering stream. The naali, it was called. I was strictly forbidden to go there. “Dangerous,” my mother said. “Thieves,” muttered my grandmother. “Filthy,” they agreed. I stood, looking down from behind the veil of curtains. Nobody was about, not a soul.

But when I looked again, I saw a solitary figure, beckoning to me, to come down, to play. How could I resist? I took the key to backdoor out from my grandmother’s book. I slipped through shadows that hid me from Kantha’s drunken eye. I escaped through the maze of hallways, stairs and doors, through the courtyard. The door was crawling with heavy perfumed orange flowers nodding and glaring as I thrust the key in. The padlock dropped its jaw open, and I went through the door, into the sunlit haze.

There she was, waiting for me. A little girl with the eyebrows of a pretty, malicious demoness. She smiled at me, and I saw that she was as tall as me, as thin, but dark as a twig of vanilla, whereas I was pale, like the flower. The girl touched my shoulder then ran off, daring me to catch her. We ran amid butterflies in billowing sulphur-yellow gowns, or fantasy blues. She tackled me and I fell, gasping, not used to such roughness. We rolled together down the parched grassy slopes to the water. When she laughed, I laughed too, realizing we were having fun, even though it hurt. The last time I had rolled like this was with my father, after we had fallen down a hill. When we had stopped, I bit his earlobe. “Grow big,” I told him, “grow big like a giant so I can hide in your ear.”

Disentangling herself, the girl rose. I lay in front of a mudhut while she, glancing at me over her shoulder, disappeared within. The doorway was hung with a fringe of leaves, shrivelled lemons and chili peppers, to keep out the bad spirits with their numerous evil eyes. What was it like inside? I went in, after her. It was murky, bare. The girl was watching me closely. I felt nervous, shy, unable to move––I wondered if there was someone else there, but no, there couldn’t be, not in that tiny space.

She sat while I stood. Then she touched my dress, pulling me to sit down. She plucked the thistles and grass out of my hair, and while she was doing so, I saw some red silk between the piles of bedding. I tugged at it, and there it was––my missing dress that the istry had lost! The crimson dress. But how was it here? I didn’t know what to say. The girl pulled off her own dress––striped, dirty, torn. Her nipples were flat plum moons, her fawn body rising from her pyjamas. She pulled off my dress too, and I let her. I wasn’t going to let her have my precious dress, and she didn’t try to keep it from me. She helped me do up the buttons when I had slid it over my head. Then she put on the other dress that I had been wearing, and I let her, feeling sorry for her. I don’t know if she saw my pity, but her own mood changed. She pushed me down, crushing her hand over my mouth, saying what I didn’t understand. She smelled of sweat, of burning spices. Her tongue, her scent was utterly alien. She began tussling with me. Her hands groped, hurting me. I squirmed, struggled––unsure whether we were still playing, and if so, at what?

Our wrestling grew heated, uncontrolled, scary. She was stronger than me, and suddenly her black hydra limbs were suffused with something more than play, something violent. But then, she kissed me, on the mouth, softly. Her eyes looked down deeply into mine, into me. Stormy eyes, black with frustration, wanting––wanting what? She kept on, her hands like roots, burrowing between my legs. It hurt, but it gave me a rude shock of pleasure at the same time, confusing me. My body writhed in the currents, like the river itself, drawing her in, repulsing her at the same time. She was saying words, soft and harsh words, like stones you walk on in the sea. After the wave of thrill, came guilt and fear, covering me like seaweed, like shame––

When I tried to throw her off, she slapped me. I was terrified now, struggling, but she was too strong. As I thrashed, she deftly spun about, so her back was toward me. She had my feet in her hands, taking off my ankle-bells. She got one, but not the other––

My feet were silent as I ran, trying to run away from what I have not yet escaped.

This origin of the project stems from years of working as a chaperone and faculty advisor for students in the North South Profile at Dawson College in Montreal.  For one month, students in this area of study participate in a month-long field trip to Nicaragua, after they have spent three terms studying the nation’s political upheavals and history of oppression and revolution. All of their theoretical studies are put in place as they live with families and confront basic fears. We all learn an immense amount from the Nicaraguans and each other and in some ways what drives us is the desire to contribute to social change that would end these apparent imbalances. Of course, the task seems too enormous and so my efforts usually responded directly to Nicaraguan requests to teach them basic English. I began by researching online platforms and pedagogical approaches to teach English. I knew the grammar, but the Nicaraguans really taught me the fundamentals of human relations.

After five years of visiting rural Nicaragua as part of this profile, I also wanted to take on the project to explore the relationship between digital technology and solidarity work. In the end, I selected a common platform for online course delivery and student management called “Moodle.” The main utility of it for this project, though, had to do with its cost to me and its end users: zero. My project had no budget. I used the resources available to me. Of course, anyone who types “English language course” into a search engine will you will end up with hundreds of links to videos, dictionaries, courses and advertisements. Most of these links, however, have a commercial goal. I wanted to put something together for the Nicaraguan students that was accessible, straightforward and relevant to their daily lives.

The participants who agreed to take part in the project are from various villages called comarcas in the region of Cinco Pinos. A few were living in the area called Esteli, but all had family or close connections there. The area is tucked up in the north-western part of the country, about three hours away from Chinandega by bus, close to the Honduran border. It has a population of about 6,500 and an “official” 20% unemployment rate, which seems remarkably low based on personal observations made over a ten year period of travelling there. Nicaragua is often referred to as the 2nd poorest nation in the Western Hemisphere, after Haiti. You will encounter many theories about why this is the case and why and how this continues. I have opinions about this too, but mainly I see hope in continued solidarity work which could diminish Nicaragua’s dependence upon foreign aid. I say this because in my project, as in Dawson College’s ongoing commitment to the community, there is an emphasis on long-term solidarity projects as opposed to short-term charitable work. I met each of the students individually for a training session in January 2013 at the local Internet centre in the comarca of El Espino, run by a local organization with a very long acronym: Aprodese. The NGO has also run some very innovative training initiatives in the area, from sewing and Internet to woodworking and solar energy.

At its core, my modest project sought answers to some pretty complicated questions and emerged out of a simple request by the community to learn English. A significant portion of Nicaragua’s economy is driven by remittances. Many working age individuals in this region leave in order to help their families. Community members have told me many times that even a little English could help them to secure jobs in the service industries of other Central American countries. Many women, for example, work as chamber maids and leave their infant children with grandmothers to do this. They say that they want to learn English to help their families. Clearly such a project could in no way resolve all of these issues, but it did begin to shed light on the role of education in general in all of this: shockingly simple. How can digital technology work in this context? Would it reinforce inequitable power relations? Who benefits?

The project’s goal was to provide online resources and activities to teach the basics of elementary English to a small test group of community members. There were ten participants, ranging in age from 12 to 33, selected by my Nicaraguan partner. In February 2013, I shared the experience with technology experts, activists and educators at the Canadian MoodleMoot Conference in Vancouver. I am still convinced that there is something in digital platforms that can contribute to solidarity work in this and other regions. At the same time, though, I am equally concerned that such endeavours may also further entrench the power inequities between north and south. Of course, in the process I learned much about learning and as always these students.

The  first lesson in cultural assumptions and illiteracy (my own) came inadvertently through the Moodle platform that (like most) requires a username and password. As I mentioned, my Nicaraguan partner selected ten students for the project and was given guidelines for this: more or less anyone willing to learn English. I had received many requests over the years to teach English and thought (and still do with some reservations) that online technology could be a useful tool in this regard. Letis, a primary school teacher in the area, now living in Montreal, sent me the student list with email contact information. My counterpart at Dawson College assigned each of the students a username and password, and enrolled them in the course. We didn’t give this a second thought … until my first in-person training session in January 2013. I spent a week on site and then another few weeks in Leon and Granada building the materials and resources. I realized immediately that the students did not recognize their own usernames. Most common in this type of generic assignment is the practice of putting together the initial of the first name and full last name. This was problematic for most of my students for a number of reasons: most came from single parent families, living in multigenerational, blended households, alongside siblings with different parents, grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles with correspondingly different and lengthy, hyphenated surnames. Our choice of last name for the otherwise innocent purpose of enrolling these students was the first of a long list of challenging issues. I had a huge AHA moment, and should have known better, I thought. The first in-person session was two hours of specific vocabulary to access the system and logging in and out of the platform several times. All of the students were successful doing this. Five of the students have never logged in a second time. I see in my journal dated January 9, 2013 that I wrote: “The keyboard here is in Spanish; all of the framing for the course is in English. Need a Spanish interface.”  At the very beginning of the project, I noted that the first-time access for students to the course was very complicated because of this and that I was “not sure at this point if the students will continue.” I would see the results of this just a few weeks later.

This rural world is so very different from life at Dawson. En route to Cinco Pinos, I met an expert English language instructor who was very interested in the course. In explaining my approach to this individual, it became obvious that I was on the right track of developing contextually appropriate resources, what he called “situational” materials. I knew the needs of the community, I thought. In other words, in gathering online links for use by Spanish speakers with little to no knowledge of English from this geographic region, I was going to emphasize vocabulary development, for instance, that would  reflect something of immediate use or application. My students didn’t seem (rightfully) to care about pronouns or infinitives: they were focused on pronunciation. In light of this, I researched and consulted as best I could. I realized, however, that my student group also had too many variables in terms of education and life experience, variables that I could not have anticipated. Tatiana, the 12 year old, had a lot of trouble with spelling in Spanish and I could offer very little help to her, as my Spanish is fairly broken, at best. In many ways, however, she is a symbol of Nicaragua’s future: education is key for her. The online framework, with its emphasis on independent learning might not be the best for her, but she clearly understands the role of education. Future coordinated work in the area might offer study skills workshops, or computer training.

Tatiana

One of the students had never touched a computer. Like many of the Nicaraguans I met, however, Teodora could text with great facility. She is a 33-year-old mom of one son and works hard at combining this role with other household responsibilities: she makes the household tortillas from scratch every morning at 5:00 in the home she shares with her husband and mother-in-law. Her transferable skills are many, and she has incredible personal strength.  Teodora needs more assistance to feel confident with computers in general before online learning can be effective. This is not insurmountable, but I could not provide this to her and she has not logged into the course since our first session together.

Teodora

While the project’s original intention was to supply elementary level resources to begin English language studies, there was nothing simple about it. Computer literacy is often assumed and most of these students have used a desktop computer. However, only two could navigate effectively among several open pages simultaneously. This was important as the course linked dozens of sites and some would have to be open simultaneously. The two computer savvy students, however, were essential to the collaborative aspect of the course, or at least its potential to be collaborative. Rikcelis, pictured below, is the strongest of the students. At 16, she is still in high school and has considerable responsibility at home as well. She is keen to learn English and was very helpful in terms of helping to facilitate a few one-on-one sessions. She is the only student to submit assigned homework, and I wish there were more I could do to teach her effectively. She responds well in a collaborative environment, but this element was completely missing in this online course. The resources did not lend themselves easily to group work aside from individual comments. The group chat and messaging functions within the Moodle framework were utterly complicated and impossible to translate sufficiently for use, though I continue to correspond with Rikcelis.

Rikcelis

While the project was a failure as a course, it provided very useful information about the needs of the community in terms of learning styles and study limits. The experience highlighted for me once again, that cultural assumptions often dictate the practice of even the most well intended. For example, before an online course or resource site can be launched, these students need basic and in-depth computer literacy training. Folks in the area have simple cell phones and text shorthand to communicate, but no one has Internet at home and their Internet connections at school are generally restricted and too slow. Some of the links could not be opened. The technology was incompatible and students were not able to troubleshoot this independently. The username-password issue for Moodle was  the beginning of a series scaffolded issues.

As I say, I like a place with computers, but they have to be functional and relevant to context. Education is essential not only for material prosperity, but also for the community to achieve some sort of empowerment. Digital technology will inevitably become part of this and perhaps college and high-school brigades could focus on providing computer training for a new pedagogical path, one that can be mindfully situational and collaborative. These students taught me what I needed to know regarding this and I am still processing and sharing facets of the information. Ironically, despite the failure of this particular project, I am far from rejecting the Internet and digital learning platforms as pedagogical tools, though I am perhaps a little more reserved about it than I was six months ago.

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