To begin, I wanted to let Alara, Katerina, and Geneviève know that they did an amazing job putting together their blog lecture. It was informative, well written, and very engaging!

What struck me initially when reading was how the Waorani are a group that is isolated from the influences of Western society. The thought that this group not only has been able to successfully retain their traditions and their own language which is “unrelated to any other on earth” truly blows my mind. Their situation reminds me somewhat of North Sentinel Island in the Bay of Bengal, which is home to the Sentinelese indigenous group. It was mentioned that there was a high rate of homicides within the Waorani, and during the Palm Beach killings of 1956, five missionaries were killed when trying to convert the tribe to Christianity. In 2018, an evangelical missionary tried to go to North Sentinel Island in an attempt to convert the isolated tribe, but he was killed by the warriors in the process. I can understand how, for a tribe that has chosen to remain detached from external influences, it would feel quite invasive and upsetting for a cowode to intrude and suggest a deviation from their traditions. Though it seems the Waorani aren’t as extreme in their relative seclusion, the same idea applies.

Thanks again for preparing this great lecture! It was a great way to wrap up the class!

After watching Hija de la Laguna, I began to think more about the impacts resource extracting has had on Indigenous communities. One of the more emotion-provoking shots that sticks out to me was towards the beginning of the documentary when the camera pans from green hills to the dry, gray hills that are a result of harvesting resources. You can see some work vehicles driving around, and everything looks dusty and dead. This specifically really made me feel upset regarding the extractivist companies that are tearing up these natural landscapes. Hearing the woman in the film, Nelida, speak about wanting to study law in order to protect her land and family was quite powerful, and the way she spoke about the land so lovingly was touching.

Thinking about Hija de la Laguna made me think about the Uros people, which my group is writing about for our blog project. The Uros aren’t necessarily facing mineral extraction impacts, but they have felt the effects of globalization. Increased tourism to the region has caused their supply of Totora reed – one of their staple foods and building materials – to go down, fish and wildlife population to dip, and water to be contaminated. Because of these things, the Uros have worked with the government to implement various means of making tourism more sustainable for their community. Hija de la Laguna reminded me of their situation because of the impacts they were facing, and how some, though not all, Uros believe tourism and globalization have threatened their culture and identity.

I thoroughly enjoyed Enrique Olvera’s Chef’s Table episode. I’ve always been a huge lover of Mexican food, with mole being one of my all-time favourite dishes from any cuisine. I have learned to make it at home, but I didn’t know much about the food itself prior to hearing about Chef Olvera. When you think of fine dining, usually French food comes to mind, or maybe Italian. Mexican food is typically thought of as cheap, easily accessible street food, as discussed during the episode. Prior to Pujol, I would be hard-pressed to name another upscale Mexican restaurant.

I appreciate how this episode went into detail about the more lesser-known Mexican foods/ingredients as well. Learning about the uses of Chicatana Ants was particularly interesting to me because though I know that insects are eaten in many different cultures, growing up in the United States I’d never thought about cooking with them before. I also enjoyed his discussion about mole, and how he plates it alone, without any meat or accompanying dish besides tortilla. As mentioned above, I love mole, but in the past I’ve always made it with chicken, so it was interesting to see someone showcase it as a complete dish by itself when I used to think of it as a sauce only. I really appreciate the respect Chef Olvera has for his heritage, local ingredients, and the cuisine of his come country.

I decided to focus this week’s reflection on the Pan de Coco Instagram story from Bryan Ford. I really enjoyed watching him make this bread because you can learn a lot about a person’s heritage or upbringing by the food they enjoy cooking. I especially love it when there is a personal story behind a dish, and as mentioned on Bryan’s blog, he grew up in Honduras where he paints a picture of a dinner table full of various soups and roasted meats, and a little unassuming coconut roll: Pan de Coco.

It’s important for these kinds of recipes to be celebrated in order to give proper representation to heritage foods like Pan de Coco. Traditional baking/cooking is underrepresented in the culinary industry, which tends to favour innovation and exciting new gastronomy techniques – and there’s nothing wrong with that – but respecting and connecting with the kind of cooking that comes from your culture is vital to the preservation of those dishes.

As a side, I also really liked how Bryan did every step of the kneading dividing, and mixing by hand. Hands are the original cooking tool, and in my opinion, the best way to make sure your food will be delicious is by connecting directly with the ingredients!

While looking through all of the new keywords this week, my attention was drawn to Mestisaje. From what I understand, it is essentially a term used to describe a person of mixed Latin American origins. It seems to me that this term is mostly a product of colonization, considering its prerequisite is the racial mixing between Latin America and other regions of the world.

Growing up, I – and most of us – were taught about European imperialism. My own racial identity is Scottish and Afro-Caribbean, where I can trace my African side back to the Trans-Atlantic slave trade when my ancestors were brought to Jamaica. Through my background, I can begin to understand the term Mestisaje in Latin America, where people who identify with this word could have been a product of Spanish or Portuguese colonization. 

With that being said, I appreciate how Mestisaje has seemingly evolved in meaning over the years. In the beginning, as highlighted by the keyword post, it used to signify the impurities of “hybrid” individuals, creating a very clear division between their Latin blood and European blood. It made sure that though they were partially European, their Latin American heritage would keep them inferior to “pure” Europeans. Today, from what I can see, Mestisaje is now a more positive term, which reflects the unique backgrounds of mixed individuals that are something to celebrate and not feel shame for. Though the wounds from colonialism are still very much apparent in many communities, I think this is a great reclamation of a once negative term.

Upon reading Roger Rumrrill’s interview with Guillermo Arrévalo and Joshua Homan’s chapter, I had heard of ayahuasca through TV shows and movies, but my knowledge didn’t go much deeper than that. I associated ayahuasca with the media stereotypes of it being just another form of tripping or awakening parts of your mind. I had a vague understanding that it was a product of South America, but I had no idea of its spiritual and healing purposes.

In Rumrrill’s interview, Sr. Arrévalo mentioned that many people come for ayahuasca treatment due to troubling things like depression, anxiety, and other mental health issues, as well as helping patients that have suffered from trauma. He uses the example of sexual assault and rape, in this case. This would indicate that ayahuasca healing is not only made for those suffering a spiritual crisis or unbalance but also those who are under psychological stress as well.

Something that really stuck out to me regarding this ayahuasca tourism was the number of people who claimed to be shamans who were administering the brew. He says “Many who say they are healers don’t know how to cure…They give the prepared potion to the client but get no results…If these European or American patients go to the liars, also, they constrain the work of real healers” (Rumrrill, 205). This could end up being dangerous for the patient, and I understand why he may be upset by this happening more often. I will say, though, that I do understand why many have turned to false shamanism. Being able to feed your family and afford a roof over your head are incredible motivators.

Prior to this week, agroecology was not part of my vocabulary. What really stuck out to me was the example given in the keywords post, talking about Brazil and its production of soybeans. While a crop like this can boost the national economy, monocropping can lead to decreased soil nutrients, a decline in biodiversity, overuse of fertilizers, and other significant issues. Some popular examples of this are corn and wheat, which are some of the widely grown industrial crops in the United States. From my understanding, Indigenous Agroecology combats issues like this through the utilization of natural resources, the implementation of Indigenous practices, and the utilization of plants available in the immediate region.

Discussing this made me recall something I’d learned from watching an episode of Chef’s Table a while back. The episode was about a chef named Virgilio Martínez and his restaurant called Central, in Peru. He enjoys focusing on and preserving native plants and ingredients as well as indigenous cooking techniques. He was particularly interested in Peruvian corn, and I was shocked when he showed all of the different varieties. I grew up in the United States, and I was only ever exposed to yellow, or maybe the occasional white corn. He explained that the beautiful range of the shapes, sizes, and colors of the Peruvian corn was a result of the preservation of biodiversity and indigenous cultivation methods.

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Thinking about decolonization is rather new to me. I decided to do some more outside research to really try and understand the full meaning behind the word, because up until the beginning of this course I’d just heard it in passing. It seems to me as if decolonization goes beyond the formal reclamation of territory, but also the reintroduction of cultural practices and languages as well as beginning to heal from the traumas caused by colonization. However, decolonization cannot be a one-sided effort, and proper tools and support need to be given to these groups in order for them to be restored.

After reading through Smith, Yang, and Tuck’s text, I found parts of it to be rather discouraging. Tuck made a point of saying decolonization efforts have only been fought for by other indigenous scholars as well as pointing out that when white scholars ask questions about indigenous works, “they drain the energy and imagination of indigenous scholarship.” I do believe it is not the job of indigenous people to educate others on their oppression and trauma, but I couldn’t help but feel like these opinions were rather one-sided, and didn’t take into account other points of view. The repetitive use of the term “white settler” bothered me as well, because it seemingly assumes every person who isn’t indigenous is then an oppressor and opponent of the indigenous community. I do not wish to speak over indigenous voices, but in my mind, it’s hard to see this term as anything but presumptuous.