NO REST FOR THE AWAKE - MINAGAHET CHAMORRO

Add caption I was asked to do this months ago and it has been sitting on my computer ever since. Gangnam Style was still new at that point and it was only primarily K-pop fans and nerds who were aware of its massive, macarena-like, world changing potential. Someone asked me to do a Chamorro version of it, taking the lyrics and translating them into Chamorro. It didn't take very long, but I just never got around to posting it. First a couple of points. Number 1, this song is in Korean and I don't speak Korean. In order to understand it I had to rely on the translations of others. So there maybe obvious ways I couldn't grasp accurately what I was translating. But then again, the intent wasn't to take the lyrics to Gangnam Style exactly, but rather translate the feeling into Chamorro. This is a conundrum that you often face when doing translation work. If you take it exactly as it is written, you run the risk of making it lose the correct meaning in the new languag

Every time I would travel to Japan I would be asked several things as to where I came from. #1: People would ask me if I was Ainu, the indigenous people of Japan who the government and most people pretended to be non-existent for quite a while. #2: I was from Hokkaido. I have no idea what people from Hokkaido look like, but if I was to imagine myself as some sort of Japanese person, it would be from Hokkaido. #3: People regularly asked if I was from Okinawa. I had no idea for years as to why people thought I might be from Okinawa. Even when I was living in the states I would sometimes meet Okinwans who thought I might be Okinawa. I would never begrudge people their mistakes. Being Okinawa sounds pretty cool, and besides when I travel places, it doesn't matter where, I constantly think that anyone around me could be Chamorro. I've asked some people in Okinawa so far, why people might mistake me as one of them? They have laughed and said I do look Okinawa, and the only

One thing that I truly miss about graduate school is that I don't get to read as many books as I used to. At various points in graduate school I was reading several books a week. At least 3 or 4 for classes, one or two more for my own research and interests, and then usually another one or two for just fun. I was processing information constantly and my brain brimming with ideas, and so my blog posts in those days were longer and sometimes crazier, deeper, more convoluted to say the least. Since I started teaching my amount of reading as diminished. I still read for research and to prepare for classes, but the amount of reading that I do for simply fun dropped so much in 2009 and 2010. Last year I tried my best to start up reading a little bit here and there just for fun, but still failed miserably. I did read a few books here and there, and some of them really made an impact on me. A case in point is the book a far country by Daniel Mason, which was given to me as a birthday p

One of the problems in their fight is that while most of Jeju may know about their resistance, news of this fight has barely reached the mainland of South Korea. This was something which I had heard two days earlier from Mr. Kang Sang-won in Pyeongtaek when he was talking about the difficulties in trying to get people outside of the immediate vicinity to care. One of the problems with the rural struggles in South Korea against US base expansion is that the news of their fight barely reaches the large population centers of South Korea. For instance, while most of Jeju Island may know about the resistance of the villagers of Gangjeong or the city of Pyeongtaek may know about the resistance by local farmers, or even the citizens of Paju might know about the displacement of villagers in order to expand the Mugeon-ri training fields, but this news doesn't travel very far otherwise. I heard this most specifically from Mr. Kang Sang-won in Pyeongtaek when he was talking about the difficu

As I've regularly said over the course of these posts, being in South Korea for a week and not speaking any Korean at all was very frustrating. I had the help of a few guides and interpreters, but wandering around areas of Seoul on my own was a very strange experience. Most people in Korea knew some English, usually enough terms in order to conduct a brief greeting or manage an exchange of currency for goods. What made it a very weird experience is that so many people weren't sure who I was or what I was. Many people actually assumed that I was Korean, a bit odd looking, odd dressing, the facial hair was a bit strange, even for young people, and the clothes. The tattoos on my arms marked as a rough type, or a privileged kid trying to pretend to be rough. They were just English characters, not long stretches of skin like canvas and so I wasn't in the mafia or something. Most people spoke to me in Korean and would smile and be very friendly, and then change the moment they re