Radicals, and the Spirits that Follow Them

Seems like it’s time for my brief, biweekly update :)
These past two weeks have been semi productive in terms of work, but I’m still wishing that things would move faster. Our project has technically begun, even in the absence of crucial funding. Euke and I have been trying to set up meetings and interviews with various women and women’s groups around the island, but it’s proven to be extremely difficult. I think everyone knows that domestic violence is a major issue on the island, but no one wants to talk about it and even activist women’s groups are hesitant to begin a dialogue.

It’s difficult to pinpoint why domestic violence is such a prevalent problem here. Theories include that because there are no laws against it, there is no communal mindset that explicitly frames it as wrong. Yet I refuse to believe that so many men elsewhere would beat their partners just because there was an absence of legislation regarding abuse. People also blame alcohol, which is a major social issue here as well, but again there has to be something deeper affecting the emotional and mental core of abusers. Sociologically, it seems as though people here feel like they are in a confused limbo, somewhere between struggling to remain traditional and struggling to adequately enter the modern global community, but don’t know how to identify and manage such feelings. As such, men are still theoretically expected to be the protectors of the family, but their role is upset by more women joining the workforce. The extended family, which used to be the main source of support and community, has broken down as more and more people move around and engage in marriages that have not been arranged or sanctioned by the family. The demands are great on both partners to make sure the family succeeds, but the economy is poor, and without the traditional structures of the family, both men and women are puzzled as to what their roles are, and how to adequately fulfill them in an environment in which they are basically designed to fail. Often, men and women both work, and men who are socialized into believing that they need to be the ones supporting the family economically are often outshone by their more industrious, enterprising wives and feel jealous and emasculated. Men who do work often find conflict and misunderstandings in their workplace, and because they cannot take out their frustration on their colleagues or bosses, they take it out on their partners at home.
The communication between husband and wife is also very lacking. Euke mentioned to me that discussing things related to feelings and emotions is often taboo, and partners do not usually discuss the things that are bothering them; things they would like to see changed in the family or things that are frustrating them. As such, men may feel as though they have no safe outlet for their aggravation which leads them to violence.
Obviously, none of these explanations are excuses. There is a tendency to blame culture; as in because it is a dominating, patriarchal society where women have less rights men feel that their wives are property. Of course patriarchy was only introduced as a result of Westernization and Christianity (thanks again guys) as traditionally, many Micronesian societies were more matriarchal or at least primed towards a more egalitarian approach where men and women had very defined, yet equal roles. In fact, most of the women I’ve talked to thus far site the bible as reason why men should be in charge and women underneath them. It is a sentiment which Euke herself expresses, and one that makes me cringe and only fuels my distaste and my conviction that religion is actively detrimental to social progress. In my opinion, it’s impossible to achieve an end to something as insidious as domestic violence if you don’t believe in the inherent equality of the victim. Misogyny, for me, is loosely defined by making generalizations about women; lumping us all into one group full of bad assumptions and stereotypes. To define women by their inferiority to men is obviously sexist, regardless of whether or not its “religious” and until this insulting and harmful frame of mind is obliterated I don’t think there’s any hope for achieving a universally safe atmosphere for women.
The notion that such violence here is cultural is one that is both vague and naïve. To assert that domestic violence has always been a part of Micronesian culture is assuming one thing while denying another: assuming, and in a way excusing, violence against women as a product of a primitive and ignorant people, and denying the similar abuse that saturates Western culture as well. It has been shown that domestic violence here is getting worse and worse. Traditionally, extended families, the same ones that are currently unraveling, have been the glue of the entire community. They acted as the protection for women, and the support of individual, nuclear families. Marriages were often arranged, and were usually dependent on family ties and lineage. If there was an incident of abuse, women would take their children and run to their family’s house, or their brothers would come and take them away. This was a source of major disgrace and anxiety for the husband and his family, and if he wanted his wife back, he had to make a great display of apology and humility. The entire family would bring gifts and food and present them respectfully to the family of the wife. If the husband made a grand gesture of regret, and the wife conceded to go back, the wife’s family would demand a promise that it would not happen again or next time she wouldn’t return. In this way, such abuse was handled and kept in check in a way which today, it is not. Obviously, this traditional system was not perfect, and obviously it’s not meant to make light of the suffering of women in the past, but it also shows that abuse was taken seriously and was not something accepted or condoned. Unfortunately these traditional systems have been broken down, and there are no systems in place to curb domestic abuse. Although families are able to protect women less and less, domestic violence is still considered a family problem, and the women I’ve spoken with said that it’s a question of minding your business: it’s just a part of family life, and it should not be anyone else’s concern. Abuse is disgraceful and humiliating, and thus women are embarrassed to discuss it or to admit that they have been abused. Leaving your husband and your family is immensely shameful, and most women here would not even consider it because it would mean excommunication from their family, and even potentially from their church. Women are hesitant to call the police because they are afraid of losing dignity in their communities, and more afraid of retribution from their husbands. Since there are no laws against domestic violence, abusers are not jailed for any significant amount of time and afterwards are free to return home to their wives. All of these factors combined make it an almost impossible endeavor for women to escape this vicious cycle of abuse.
In the meetings I’ve had so far, it is apparent that women are afraid; many of them say they know word travels quickly here, and they don’t want any men to find out what they’ve been talking about. It often feels like some major conspiracy in which women are forced to keep silent. The whole point of this project is to begin a dialogue about violence, and allow women to tell their stories and begin to heal – but this seems the most difficult part. It is obvious to me that they want to get it out, but fear is holding them back. Some of the stories I have heard are absolutely terrifying, material straight out of a horror movie. I can’t post most of them, because they are meant to be confidential, but I can share one particularly gruesome story that became infamous in the public. A few years ago, a woman moved to the Mortlocks (outer islands of Chuuk) after marrying a Mortlockese man who ended up abusing her. Because this was not an arranged marriage, or one approved of by the families, the woman had no protection against this abuse. Finally one day, this man’s rage exploded and he sashimied his wife alive, carving deep cuts into her leg and cutting out the skin and muscle. He put salt and sand into the wounds, and although the woman was still alive when she was finally taken to a medical center, she eventually died from bleeding and infection. This is one of the worst stories I have heard so far, and although it is often told me with an air of tragedy or outrage, other stories of women whose husbands pull their hair or slap them in the face or give them black eyes or force them into sex are told with haunting nonchalance. If I express shock or disgust, women just shake their heads as if to say “this is just how it is,” though I know they don’t actually believe that. Women who are socialized to believe that they are less than their male counterparts are trapped in a prison of false identity. They are made to believe this ideology, but already I know from some of my discussions, some are yearning and struggling for a way out. If you are not inferior, how can you truly believe that you are? In any case, it will be a long road; one that won’t even be finished being paved by the time I leave in December.

One other interesting thing concerning work is the possession video we watched last week. Some of the staff here are working on a video about old religions and spirits, and one of them has a video that someone gave him of a spirit possession in Pohnpei. Possessions are apparently not uncommon here, and usually occur in young women. The notion of spirit possession existed before Christianity, and now I think with ideas like demons, the devil, and exorcisms, the concept has become a little conflated but still present. One woman here was upset because her female relative is currently possessed by at least 30 different spirits, and she wanted holy water to cleanse her, but her family wanted to hear what the spirits had to say. Usually, the spirits are those of dead relatives (most often male) that speak through their mediums, frequently about conflicts or troubles within the family and how to resolve them. The current theory is that females, especially young ones who feel they have no voice, subconsciously utilize this mechanism to release their frustrations and speak their minds through the spirit of a dead male authority figure who will be listened to by the family. Anyway this video was pretty chilling – a young girl was lying on the floor of her house, her female relatives holding her and stroking her hair and arms. She was completely inert and seemed almost in a trance. Eventually, she started shrieking and gurgling, screaming in a deep, gravelly voice. Her relatives were asking her in Pohnpeian who the spirit was and what it wanted. Apparently, according to Euke who was translating for us, the girl was not speaking any language that was familiar to her relatives – it was neither Pohnpeian nor Chuukese and sounded to her like a Kiribati language. Either way, the family could not understand this girl, who was screaming and fiercely writhing on the floor. The family at first tried pouring holy water on her, but it had no effect so they tried rubbing local medicine on her instead. The girl seemed to have phases of being very still and stiff and quiet on the floor but would then explode into a frenzy of yelling, shaking, and at some points unleashing a deep and sinister laugh. At times she seemed to welcome the touches of her family members, and at other times she violently rejected them, shaking until her dress loosened and fell down from her chest, clutching severely at her female relatives as they tried to cover her up again. The video ended with no resolution, and it was strange to imagine a young girl’s day spent this way. I don’t know that much about possessions here so I wonder how long it takes for them to get over it, if they ever do, and if some of them willingly “invite” the personalities of these spirits so that they can actually have a say in their family, or if it’s something that happens on a higher, less understood level. As anyone who has ever read my blog before can probably assume, I don’t actually believe in spirits or spirit possessions and in fact find the deeper social meanings behind them much more interesting than the banal notion that evil, devilish little creatures can actually inhabit and play puppet master to a human body.

My work right now is probably the most interesting thing I’ve been doing so far. I know that weekends are meant to be relaxing, but sometimes they just get too stagnant. 2 Fridays ago I went to a restaurant called Coco Marina with the JVIs. I had sadly already eaten dinner which was really too bad since the food there looked delicious. The restaurant is outside, under a thatched roof right by the water, and would be a nice place to go and have a drink and just read or write letters. This was plan for this past Saturday, and I was joined by Dickson, our young Yapese priest in training. We decided to walk which was a bad idea since I slipped, inexplicably just as I walked over a patch of water on some rocks. Obviously I fell flat on my back. Of course, the nail in the coffin was that I was wearing a skirt and a slip which ended up totally around my waist completely exposing my underwear. Immediately the notions of taboos and sacred spaces and shame and dishonor came rushing towards me all at once, and I felt mortified. I think back home I would have been embarrassed but could have laughed it off and let it go, but here the context and the reactions are so vastly different. Needless to say we didn’t make it to the restaurant and I spent the better part of my day in my room trying to sleep off the sore muscles. Yesterday was decidedly better – I went to the Village for brunch which has become a new tradition of mine. I love to go there and listen to people and stare at the gorgeous view. There is internet access, so I can focus my time on writing emails and skyping, and if no one happens to be online, write some letters or postcards. This weekend I had a coconut and crab oscar, which I had never heard of before really but is kind of like eggs benedict with crab and cheese and is absolutely delicious. Afterwards I suited up for yoga at the College of Micronesia campus which felt really good. It was nice to meet some new people and get some stretching in especially since my muscles felt so sore after falling. I’m hoping to get out a little more next weekend, but have just realized there is some religious party/ceremony thing happening right outside my house on Saturday night which I’m less than happy about. The more I live here, the more I’m convinced Saturday nights are not good for anything but tea, books, and sleep.