Recently I was reading through the poetry of the Saami author Paulus Utsi (The Saami people are the arctic indigenous people inhabiting Sápmi, which today encompasses parts of far northern Sweden, Norway, Finland, the Kola Peninsula of Russia, and the border area between south and middle Sweden and Norway). I was inspired when I cam across a brilliant poem of his entitled “As long as…” which echoes the lament of many indigenous peoples about the ravages caused by industrial development upon nature and traditional cultural values. He describes a longing to maintain traditional lifestyles close to nature and the ensuing loss of meaning when engulfed by modern economic development. Captured in the poem are underlying cultural values and definitions of what constitutes indigenous peoples’ wellbeing and sustainable development and, in its absence, indigenous peoples’ despair. Please check it out below and feel free to leave a comment on your thoughts.

As long as we have waters where the fish can swim
As long as we have land where the reindeer can graze
As long as we have woods where wild animals can hide
we are safe on this earth

When our homes are gone and our land destroyed
– then where are we to be?

Our own land, our lives’ bread, has shrunk
the mountain lakes have risen
rivers have become dry
the streams sing in sorrowful voices
the land grows dark, the grass is dying
the birds grow silent and leave

The good gifts we have received
no longer move our hearts
Things meant to make life easier
have made life less

Painful is the walk
on rough roads of stone
Silent cry the people of the mountains

While time rushes on
our blood becomes thin
our language no longer resounds
the water no longer speaks

-Paulus Utsi

Paulus Utsi was born in 1918 and died in 1975. His poem “As long as…” is translated by Roland Thorstensson and reprinted in In
the Shadow of the Midnight Sun: Contemporary Sami Prose and Poetry (1998), Harald Gaski (ed.).

A few months ago I purchased “An African Prayer Book” which is a collection–compiled by Desmond Tutu–of the spiritual riches of the vast and varied continent of Africa. I was moved by a simple piece that breathes new life into an ancient canticle through an African context. Tutu attributes this to a “Traditional African” source:

AN AFRICAN CANTICLE

All you big things, bless the Lord.

Mount Kilimanjaro and Lake Victoria,

The Rift Valley and the Serengeti Plain,

Fat baobabs and shady mango trees,

All eucalyptus and tamarind trees,

Bless the Lord.

Praise and extol Him for ever and ever.

All you tiny things, bless the Lord.

Busy black ants and hopping fleas,

Wriggling tadpoles and mosquito larvae,

Flying locusts and water drops,

Pollen dust and tsetse flies,

Millet seeds and dried dagaa,

Bless the Lord.

Praise and extol Him for ever and ever.

(Washing Disciples Feet)

]]> http://www.ensigo.com/an-african-canticle/feed 147 http://www.ensigo.com/traditional-games-of-belize http://www.ensigo.com/traditional-games-of-belize#comments Sat, 22 May 2010 00:34:11 +0000 admin http://www.ensigo.com/?p=603 As the temperature is heating up and I feel myself wanting to spend every moment of the day outside I’m reminded of my time in the balmy, beautiful, brilliant, beach-like, (ok no more “b” words….Bo-Jackson…sorry I couldn’t resist) country of Belize. Over the course of my time in Belize during 2007-2008 I met so many amazing people. One particular woman, that I think is one of the coolest people in the whole world, is named Myrna Manzanares. Miss Myrna is an energetic 64 year old with a penchant for always making you smile. Besides being the president of the National Kriol Council of Belize, a talented actress, lecturer at the Belize Teachers College and the University of Belize, and a counselor for at-risk youth, she also devotes any leftover time to writing. She has published several books of poetry, and fiction. However most recently she published a book titled “Traditional Games of Belize.” In this book “Myrna has filtered out in the selected games, through her own research, a treasure trove of precious and relevant nuggets in a friendly and playful way. They entertain the reader while simultaneously parents, teachers, youth workers, social and community activists with elements of cognitive and social-psychology and storytelling.”

You can find a FREE online copy of this fun book right here: Traditional Games of Belize. Now please gather a group of friends and enjoy these wonderful Belizean games together.

P.S. I recommend Lime and Spoon

Trinity Tree

By Timothy Wangusa

The Father in the root;
The Son in the shoot;
The Spirit in the fruit.

…You find yourself pointing with your lips and saying “yes” by raising both eyebrows.

…You start using the words “even” and “ever” in places you never would have (”Even me, I’m feeling hungry,” or “I have ever done that”)

…You know you’ve what? been in Uganda a long time….when you what? Start each sentence as a question and proceed to what? Answer it yourself!

…A car isn’t full unless it has at least 7 people in it

…you keep a jerry can full of water around, just in case.

…you feel exposed without bars on your windows.

…When you come back from being out of the country and conversations go as:
Them: “you have been lost!!” and your response: “I have been found!”
Them: “how is there?” and you: “there is fine!”
Them: “you have grown fat!!!” and you are lost for words because you are not used to be told so with such frankness!

…it’s 80 degrees outside and there are people wearing parkas and stocking caps.

…you stop using those little ‘off’ or ‘up’ bits of verbs. You pick people. And you drop them.

…at the end of a meeting, people say, “ok please” as opposed to good bye or have a nice one.

…walking by a uniformed officer carrying an assault rifle is completely normal.

…Clothes becomes a two-syllable word. Clo – thes.

…your handshakes last an entire conversation.

…being given a “push” has nothing to do with “push and shove”, but being escorted to your car after a visit.

…people walk into your house and you say “You are most welcome!”

…you think “eh” in a high pitch tone is the correct way to respond when a boda drivers price suggestion is too high.

“Lord, I sing your praise

the whole day through, until the night.

Dad’s nets are filled; I have helped him.

We have drawn them in, stamping the rhythm with our feet,

the muscles tense.

We have sung your praise.

On the beach there were our mammies,

who bought the blessings out of the nets,

out of the nets and into their basins.

They rushed to the market, returned and bought again.

Lord, what a blessing is the sea, with fish in plenty.

Lord, that is the story of your grace:

nets tear, and we succumb because we cannot hold them.

Lord, with your praise we drop off to sleep.

Carry us through the night.

Make us fresh for the morning.

Halleluiah for the day!

And blessing for the night! Amen.”

Ghana

By Susan N. Kiguli

I

I hold a thousand tears
In the cup of my skinny hand.

I carry ten thousand wails
In the deep hollows of my ears.

I host a million bloated babies
In the deep brown of my eyes.

I house ten million graves
In the curls of my thinning hair.

I have stored pouches upon pouches of pus
In the blisters of my heart.

II

So we do not talk about them
Those other wrapped in rebel and state cross fire.
We do not sing about them.
How can we sing of things we do not know?
How will we sing about old men’s guts eaten out by hunger,
Old men’s eyes closed for fear of watching axes tear the heads
Off their grand children?

How can we explain missing ears, lips, noses,
Lone limbs traversing the land
Without their owners?
How can we ever talk about these things
Without tumors of bitterness
Teeming in our hearts?
No wonder we are silent.

III

I will not talk about them
I will talk of other things
Of the man who hung naked
On the tree and sweated sorrow for us.
I will sing only of water and blood
Flowing out of a side and a voice
That whispered “it is finished.”
I can think about glory
Wrapping darkness in a shroud
And storing it in an eternal grave.
I will think on love of a heavenly prince
Clothed in earthly tatters fighting
Swindlers in the temple of God.
I will think of a little child talking
To bearded men about his Father’s love.
I will sing about a risen son
And transcending peace.
I will sing of the victory
Of love embracing love
That is the only way I can ever walk upright.

* * *