The more difficult pressure to address is that of different ethnic communities trying to live together while still preserving their unique identity.
My wife is the youngest of four children born to her parents, who were well into middle age when she came along. Her dad was born in Palau a little over a century ago. Island life was quite traditional at the time, even though Germany briefly had control of Palau. It’s major impact on him was attending school and learning to read German before Japan took over Palau. While the German influence on Palauan culture was minimal, Japan had a stronger impact. The language was learned and Japanese language and culture became ubiquitous. While there was some intermarriage, Japanese and Palauan cultures tended to remain functionally separate.
After World War II the Japanese who survived were removed back to Japan and Palau tended to revert to a predominately indigenous community. When I first visited Palau in the mid-70’s, it was very much an indigenous community with only a sprinkling of other islanders and the occasional American contract worker or Peace Corps Volunteer. This same process occurred in the CNMI as well, though being the TTPI headquarters it had a fair representation of other Micronesian communities and more than occasional American contract workers.
While the experience of growing up as a Palauan, Chamorro or Carolinian in the 60’s and 70’s was certainly different from the experience of their parents and grandparents, that experience was part of an evolution that they could understand. Their fundamental worldview and cultural assumptions were not radically different from their elders. They had an identity to which they could relate, a sense of who they were.
A big part of that identity was tied to the land. They had a home—Palau or the Mariana Islands—which was the context for their sense of self. The land wasn’t just dirt and rock but was alive. It wasn’t a commodity to be bought, sold and used; it was something with which you had a relationship. Every inch of it had stories that explained what it meant to a family or village. Spirits were everywhere and needed to be respected.
When my wife and I were first married, a major project of mine was to learn as much of Palauan culture as I could. It was not just academic interest but was a survival mechanism. I needed to see the world as she did, as least as much as was possible for someone raised in a different culture on the far side of the Earth. I learned enough of the culture to value it and to be able to function as a supportive outsider, which is probably all someone who is married into the culture can do. Our children were all born in the islands, as where our nieces and nephews. Our grandchildren were all born in the States. I described their experience as an island community on the mainland in an Along the Way column a month or so ago.
The islands have changed a good deal since the days when my wife and I were newlyweds. One of the factors contributing to the change has been economic development, which brought into the islands people from many different cultures and ethnic communities.
When people are disoriented by major change in their lives there is frustration and the frustration breeds anger. They want to lash out at what is causing the frustration and anger but how do you lash out at economic and social forces?
One way is to focus your anger and frustration on a scapegoat, some visible symbol of the forces of social change that are at the root of your disorientation. The easiest target for the frustration and anger are members of the ethnic communities that have been brought in as contract workers. We saw this process at work in the recent national election. Trump stirred up the anger and frustration of many Statesiders who felt overwhelmed by the rapid pace of social change in the world. Illegal immigration became the primary issue for Trump and all the related frustration and anger seemed to be focused first on Mexicans and then later Moslems. They were easy targets, even though the facts didn’t support any of the claims made against these groups. Trump appealed to emotions, not facts, and it worked. We have seen this same process playing out in the CNMI over the years. I am hearing stories of similar reactions in Palau in relation to their contract workers.
I’m not saying that this is a good thing but it is understandable. It is quite human to respond to a perceived threat with frustration and anger. Especially if you feel that your sense of self and your cultural identity is being lost. It is quite human to look for scapegoats when there is no real target against which you can effectively direct your fears and frustrations.
