Читать книгу The Ends of Kinship - Sienna R. Craig - Страница 7

… it makes the pieces one by one in the dark

there is always enough dark …

one with the uneven current of breathing

with the silence untouched by the rush of noise

—W. S. MERWIN, “THE ARTISAN WORLD”

Anthropologists often speak of “key informants.” I find this framework limiting. Even when used respectfully, it connotes a transaction rather than an ethics of care, let alone the co-creation of knowledge. I prefer “core relationships” to describe the people without whom this book would not exist.

Nawang Tsering Gurung and I first met each other on the playground of a Kathmandu boarding school, when he was nine and I was twenty-two, in 1996. Born in upper Mustang, educated in Kathmandu and the U.S., and now a U.S. citizen, Nawang is a consummate culture broker. He has been mentored by prominent scholars, has a vast social network, and has worked on many research projects, including ones with me. He has spearheaded cultural education efforts for younger Himalayan New Yorkers; advocated for community rights; engaged in projects that support Himalayan and Tibetan languages; and participated in local education, conservation, and development efforts back in Mustang. Based in New York, he continues to nurture connections with Nepal. This is perhaps most poignantly revealed in the ways that he’s lived up to his late father’s lineage, his mother’s expectations, and his three younger siblings’ needs. He is engaged to a young woman from upper Mustang. They live in Queens and, by the time this book is printed, they will be parents.

I met Karma Choden Gurung and Yangjin Bista in 2012. We grew close quickly. I was introduced to each of these young women through Nawang. Now in their early thirties, for women of their generation, they are highly educated. Karma Choden (or “KC” for short) has a bachelor’s degree in biology, and Yangjin has a master’s degree in anthropology/sociology, both from Kathmandu-based institutions. KC’s family has limited resources and social status; Yangjin was born into a branch of Mustang nobility. Whereas Yangjin and her family identify strongly with Buddhism, KC has embraced Christianity as her guiding faith. Both young women are meticulous researchers with deep knowledge of Mustang’s social landscapes. After our collaborations began in 2012, they went on to work with other foreign scholars, development workers, and educational institutions. In the years since we have known one another, Yangjin and then KC have been elected to political posts in Mustang and taken on other leadership positions in their communities. I’ve also witnessed both of these women become wives and mothers in recent years.

Born in the Muktinath Valley and educated in a boarding school in the Himalayan foothills of West Bengal, India, Kunzom Thakuri is one of the bravest people I know. We met in 1995. I had just arrived in Mustang as a Fulbright Fellow, on the heels of graduating from college. Kunzom had returned to Nepal after completing her secondary education and had taken a job with the Annapurna Conservation Area Project (ACAP). At the time, ACAP, under the direction of the then–King Mahendra Trust for Nature Conservation (KMTNC), was charged with managing tourism in upper Mustang as well as spearheading conservation-development initiatives after the region was opened to foreigners in 1992. While this model of community-led conservation and tourism management was revolutionary, both globally and in Nepal, it was not an easy sell in Mustang.

During those early days of our friendship, Kunzom and I spent many hours talking about the intricacies of life, culture, land, and politics in Mustang. I admired how she navigated social difference. Kunzom made the transition to the U.S. in the late 1990s and, for a time, we both lived in the San Francisco Bay Area. We kept in touch as she and I spent time in America, Europe, and Nepal over the next decade. She returned to Nepal more permanently around 2011 to begin a massive undertaking: helping to envision, build, staff, and manage a new primary school in an upper Mustang village. Through this effort, she is striving to implement an innovative model of elementary education in Mustang at a time when, as this book explores, the driving cultural norm is that receiving a high-quality education requires leaving home. We have spent time together in research capacities in 2012, 2014, 2016, 2018, and 2019. She is a teacher, a confidant, and an inspiration.

As for me, born in California and educated in New England, I first traveled to Nepal as a nineteen-year-old undergraduate student of religion and anthropology. I lived in Nepal from 1995 to 1998 and have continued to spend time in the country each year since then. What began as a youthful connection to people and place has been sustained through my own marriage and motherhood, into middle age and through the process of becoming a scholar-teacher.

My personal, academic, and creative paths have shifted over the years. My desire to reckon the worlds in which I was raised and into which I have been welcomed as an anthropologist remains constant. I take responsibility for this book’s errors—of omission, of misunderstanding, of ignorance. Although this work is centered on one relatively small community, I hope it will encourage cross-cultural thinking and invite reflection on what we share as human beings. I hope that people from Mustang will find this book meaningful—particularly younger generations who are working so hard to retain cultural footholds and to chart their own course. This has remained my guiding intention.

Aside from these four core relationships and public figures, all other names in this book are pseudonyms. Still, there are so many individuals and institutions to whom I am grateful. I name those I can below.

In and beyond Mustang: Angya, Palsang, Tsering, Dolma, Lhachi, Lumo, Karma Sherab, and ibi Sonam; Tshampa Ngawang, Karma, Zompa, Tsewang Gyurme, and Jamyang (Jimmy); rokmo Dawa, Kunga (Mahendra), Sonam Chöten, and Tenki as well as Nhunzin, Jigmi, Jigme Wangmo, and Tseyang; Jigme Singe Palbar Bista and Doyang; Tsewang and Maya didi; Raju and Tharik; Surendra, Karsang, Karchung, and Tsewang Jigme; Chimi Dolkar, Tshampa Angyal, Sangye Pao, and Tenkyi (Apple); Amchi Gyatso, Amchi Tenjing, Lhundup Gyatso, Tsewang Rinzin, Chimi, Rinzin Angmo, Rapsang, and Tashi Yangchen; Palsang, Tsewang Tenzin, Chimi Dolkar, Kemi, and Suresh; Amchi Nyima, Nyima Bhuti, Kunga, Yungdung, and Pasang; Nyima Drandul; Nirmal and Laxmi Wangdi; Lama Tashi, meme Tshultrim, and the Namgyal and Kag khenpo; Pema Dolkar (junior and senior), Tenzin Sherab, and Yuden; Norbu Gyaltsen, Laxmi, and Tsering; Amchi Tenjing Dharkye; Yangchen, Lhakpa, and Tashi; Chemi.

Dartmouth compatriots in and throughout the writing process: Ann Armbrecht, Dwai Banerjee, Sabrina Billings, Elizabeth Carpenter-Song, Maron Greenleaf, Grant Gutierrez, Tracey Heatherington, Chelsey Kivland, Abby Neely, Bernie Perley, Yana Stainova, Jesse Weaver-Shipley. And a special debt of gratitude to Laura Ogden, who has taught me so much about loss and wonder.

Exemplars: Vincanne Adams, Charlotte Bacon, Keith Basso, Ruth Behar, João Biehl, Kevin Bubriski, Andrea Clearfield, Teju Cole, Robert Desjarlais, Tsering Wangmo Dhompa, Davydd Greenwood, Pico Iyer, Marianne Lien, Christine Montross, Kirin Narayan, Stacy Pigg, Harold Roth, Volker Scheid, Kathleen Stewart, Paul Stoller, Manjushree Thapa, Kesang Tseten, Mark Unno.

Mentors: Edmund Morris (1940–2019) and Sylvia Jukes Morris (1935–2020). Edmund taught me about play of form. He demanded authenticity, instilled in me a love of writing by hand, and embodied cadence and humor—in writing and in life. Sylvia was as graceful as she was meticulous. She inspired me to be ever curious about the textures of people’s lives, to resist the obvious. Their love for each other—through marriage and as writers—was unparalleled, miraculous, and beautiful to behold.

Scholars and friends who have shaped my thinking: Mark Aldenderfer, Cynthia Beall, Calum Blaikie, Geoff Childs, David Citrin, Gen. Sir Sam Cowan, Fidel Devkota, Ramesh Dhungel, Carroll Dunham, Andrew Fischer, James Fisher, William Fisher, Heidi Fjeld, David Gellner, Barbara Gerke, Melvyn Goldstein, Arjun Guneratne, John Harrison, Sondra Hausner, Kabir Mansingh Heimsath, Kristine Hildebrandt, Resi Hofer, David Holmberg, Jim Igoe, Daniel Kaufman, Thomas Kelly, Stephan Kloos, Tim Lahey, Austin Lord, Christian Luczanits, Kathryn March, Carole McGranahan, Manish Mishra, Galen Murton, Ross Perlin, Anne Rademacher, Charles Ramble, Geoffrey Samuel, Martin Saxer, Tsering Shakya, Fr. Greg Sharkey, Pasang Sherpa, Sara Shneiderman, Nicolas Sihlé, Bandita Sijapati, Deepak Thapa, Tawni Tidwell, Mark Turin, Emily Yeh.

Artists: Tenzin Norbu and Bidhata KC.

Students: Hannah (McGehee) Anderson, Liana Chase, Pawan Dhakal, Phurwa Dhondrup, Kripa Dongol, Michael Everett, Katie Gougelet, Singer Horsecapture, Rebekah Scott, Edom Wessenleyeh.

For supporting the work: the John Simon Guggenheim Foundation and the National Science Foundation. At Dartmouth College, the Dean of the Faculty, the Office of the Provost, the Department of Anthropology’s Claire Garber Goodman Fund, the Dickey Center for International Understanding, and the Leslie Center for the Humanities.

At University of Washington Press: executive editor Lorri Hagman, Global South Asia series editor Kalyanakrishnan Sivaramakrishnan, and two anonymous reviewers.

Family, born into and chosen: Steve Craig, Mary Heebner, Charles Rowley, Macduff Everton, Robert Everton, Regina and Brian Mair, Larry and Sylvie Bauer, Lesa Heebner, Don Davis, Lise Apatoff, Daniella Mayer, Kiki Thorpe, Lucy Raimes, Pia Baker.

Ken and Aida: my kin, my heart.