Fieldnote_0426_Naluwan_Annabelle
This week, we went to Naluwan to make some cute handicrafts with the elderly.
This week, we went to Naluwan to make some cute handicrafts with the elderly.
I think that this is interestingly written and an interesting comparison between your own experiences in Singapore and the Naluwan grandma. What do you think can be applied to your final piece of work from this fieldnote? Do you think that your experiences in Singapore has shaped you to think differently and feel differently from an Amis person living in Naluwan?
When I sat down with my Ahma, she brought out a few stacks of photos from the past.
This Saturday was truly an unforgettable experience – I felt like the past few times that I've gone to the tribe were on a more superficial level since we only got to chat with the Ahmas for very s
At the tribe, I talked to the same Ahmas (grandmas) again. This time, we got to see some photographs from the past.
We sat in groups with some elderly from the Amis tribe in the activity center, and I had the opportunity to sit with a pair of sisters and their close friend.
COMMUNITY WALKING
This essay will provide a portal into work in response to COVID-19.
Might movement, both forced and voluntary, be a defining characteristic of the anthropocene? If not, where might this quality find a home within the analytic questions?
In preparation for the field school I am reading Edward Baptist's The Half Has Never Been Told. Chapter 1, 'Feet', tells the history of the forced migration of slaves from northern coastal plantation colonies to the south. Men and Women, chained together by iron were forced to walk in coffles to South Carolina or Georgia. As Baptist writes
Men of the chain couldn’t act as individuals; nor could they act as a collective, except by moving forward in one direction. Even this took some learning. Stumble, and one dragged someone else lurching down by the padlock dangling from his throat. Many bruised legs and bruised tempers later, they would become one long file moving at the same speed, the same rhythm, no longer swinging linked hands in the wrong direction (25).
One of the arguments presented in this book is that American capitalism, as we know it today, would be impossible without the the foundations put in place by slave labor. The early chapters also make clear that forced migration, the movement and redistribution of enslaved persons, allowed for the southern states to expand agricultural production and increase white wealth. This eventual transformation of land and capital was predicated on the movement of peoples from one place to another, and as the passage above suggests, this movement had a rhythm, a timbre, a musical modality.
I contrast this with Zenia Kish's article "My FEMA People": Hip-hop as disaster recovery in Katrina Diaspora where she argues that the music that emerged following Katrina was the first time American hip-hop engaged with "the thematic of contemporary black migration as a mass phenomenon in any significant way" (674). This article also draws attention to the rhythms of post Katrina life; the call and response of Bounce, the vibrations of trauma. Although lyrical expression proved the most potent way for artists to narrate the impact of environmental change and political neglect, the music itself was borne out of the experience of moving through and with disaster.
Both writings point to the importance of further exploring the rhythms of mobilities as they relate to environmental transformations. I'm struggling to see where this point of inquiry maps to the analytic questions and may be worth some further exploration.
Baptist, Edward. The Half Has Never Been Told: Slavery and the Making of American Capitalism. Basic Books. New York. (2014)
Kish, Zenia. “"My FEMA People ": Hip-Hop as Disaster Recovery in the Katrina Diaspora.” American Quarterly. 61, no. 3 (2009): 671–92.
This is an artwork created by the Naluwan people. Seems to me that it's a statue of a person pointing in a specific direction. I'm not sure if the person is pointing toward the sea.