Field Notes #2 "anokjab"

Em Gill

Palazhuit on Knowledge Island

6/11/19

Description:

I spent my morning as usual on Chotsheisenja (knowledge island), fishing from the early morning with the villagers until the sun was high, at which point we gathered for our meal. After a nap, I go to the "yitchotshe" (library) to pick up the condensed text of "jiodifejaoktip" (history of the people) that I have been translating. The "yitchotshe" is an enormous building of stone on a hill in the middle of the island filled with thousands of collections kept meticulously organized by dozens of "gujochongshe" (book keeper/librarian). The Oktip people have compiled detailed records spanning hundreds of years of history and culture. The body of work is both overwhelming and awe-inspiring. Wooden auxiliary buildings of various sizes are spread out around the great library for the "nyatachotshe" (researchers) to work in. The building I have been using is usually filled with sunlight and a number of researchers working around me. When having difficulties with my translations, I consult with them as well as inquire about their own work. Today I am joined by a researcher analyzing astronomical calculations and a researcher from Atmaisenja (farm island) looking into patterns of wheat production and rainfall. The three of us sit at a long table, papers and books spread out, facing the sinking sun.

A couple hours into study, my guide and local nyatachotshe, Gicheth, comes to me saying "There's an event I expect you would want to see" and leads me to the largest nearby "yitmoeko" (forum). Located across Chotsheisenja, these stadium-like circular structures exist in various sizes and host all kinds of debates, lectures, and presentations. On the way, they tell me that Pashu, a young person of the island I have become friends with, is "zhuit" (found) and has a "palazhuit" ceremony. (As explained in previous entries, when Pashu came to Chotsheisenja a few weeks ago, they told me that they were "ifzhu" (lost), that they "could not see their purpose in life nor their road to walk" and so they had come to this island)

When we get to the yitmoeko, most of the ascending rows of benches are full but Gicheth and I manage to find seats at the back. Shortly after, we watch as Pashu walks up the platform in the middle and the crowd falls quiet. Pashu addresses the rapt crowd with confidence and tells us of their life, struggles, and experiences of the past weeks. They speak with open honestly and in-depth insight into their state of mind. I understand their message even though I do not recognize all the words they use. The speech is such a sincere and genuine expression of their journey and emotions that I find myself greatly moved. At the end, they announce that tomorrow they will sail back to Kofoisenja (red island) to take life back up anew and are met with great cheers from the crowd.

As Gicheth and I follow the audience and Pashu out of the yitmoeko to dinner, I have many questions. I ask about the purpose of the palazhuit and Gicheth tells me that "they are held so that the lost, such as Pashu, can move on" but also that "everyone can benefit from hearing their story." I ask what the word "anokjab" means, for Pashu used it many times. Gicheth tells me it is "the false belief that one is apart from a group." When I say that there is no word equivalent to that in English, they seem surprised and ask "is it not a common enough experience?"

During our meal of fish and fruits I congratulate Pashu and wish them a safe trip home.

Reflection:

 The task of translating old historical texts is arduous but fruitful in the insight it provides. It seems like my interest in Oktip scholarship has earned me a greater respect from Gicheth. I am fortunate to be able to better connect with the people through this work.

I am fascinated by the Oktip people's system of helping their own through Chotsheisenja. The island's practices of open discussion of ideas, meditation, and mental and bodily wellness seem ideal for this kind of therapeutic vacation and I am thankful to be staying on this island. It seems that in this culture, mental unrest is treated less as an individual problem and more of a community issue with the solutions woven into the organization of society itself.