On January 30th, 2009 the remains of 88 Ancient Chamorros which were discovered and unearthed during the remodeling of the Fiesta Hotel in Tumon were re-interned at a small monument near the hotel’s parking lot. The monument was small, and contained several spelling errors in the Chamorro text used in it.

In many ways it was a sad and pathetic commentary on the treatment of ancient remains in Tumon over the past thirty years. Development there and around the island has disturbed an unknown number of sites of Ancient villages, and in most cases the construction companies never reveal what they’ve found. Those who do or those who get caught however usually end up creating some sort of small, token memorial as part of what’s called a “mitigation process” as mandated by the Department of Parks and Recreation.

I wrote about this issue last year for GU Magazine, in an article titled “Searching for a Slingstone.” For that piece I was writing specifically about the expansion at the Okura Hotel, which had disturbed the remains of 350 Ancient Chamorros, and a small scandal arose over their treatment and handling. To learn more about that scandal, you can check out this issue of Minagahet “Para i Minaolek i Tano’” which has a list of relevant articles.

Respect or respetu is something I always hear about from Chamorros, as the strength, the foundation of who we are and how we act in the world. Respect for elders is rated even higher and more important then just any general idea of respect. I hear this everywhere, and on the internet I even read it regularly, whenever there is a question of who or what Chamorros are, what is their culture, what gives us life and sustains us?

But as I look around Guam, I’m usually pretty disappointed as I don’t often see it in practice. I don’t see those wonderful words put in our commitments, our actions, how we as a community organize ourselves. I see us bend over backwards to be welcoming, respectful and hospitable to tourists, to military, to Uncle Sam, but where is that same energy when it comes to Guam, to us, to our community and most importantly to our ancestors?

In the case of these remains, the spirits of these ancestors, they are speaking to us. They are, even in death, even in their disgraced, disturbed state, packed into little plastic bins, they are trying to communicate to us. Their lessons are difficult, their lessons are probably what we don’t want to hear, but their lessons are tied to this island, its maintenance, what it needs and how we should be treating it.

The article I wrote for GU Magazine was about listening to those lessons, which can be so difficult to hear, especially in a place such as Tumon.

Here is an excerpt from the article:

The thinking of these businesses was probably a pragmatic “who cares?” These bones are old, broken and anonymous. They were buried within the odda’ (soil) long ago, and any tombstones or latte to mark their existence is long gone. There is no life left in these bones, so who care what happens to them.

Given the “jungle” in which they emerged, are they warning us against this new round of “development” or at least demanding that we rethink what the idea means and how we should “develop Guam?” Is their protest in hopes of stopping Guam from again entering an unsustainable and dangerous development cycle? Have they returned to remind us, that there is more to the land, more in the land, then simply the money one can make from selling it?

We too, might make the same assumption, although perhaps with less disrespect, that the rising of the bones from the earth was a tairespetu (rude) awakening, caused by the metallic indifference of a bulldozer. As I squeeze the orange plastic fence, hoping to get a better look at the excavation, I know that there is another way to see the violent arrival of these te’lang.

Ancient Chamorros believed that after death, the ante (soul) of a person remained in their bones, most specifically the skull. After all the flesh had left a person’s skull it would be taken from the buried body and returned to the home of its relatives. Once there, the skull would be treated as a revered member of the family, because of the good fortune and protection it could bring to the living family members.

Lying, buried amid these weapons which they used in their time to defend Guam, we can imagine these bones throwing themselves against these bulldozers in an attempt to stop them. Could then, their rising from the earth, be their own decision, their own form of quiet, but clear protest? Does their arrival represent their efforts to tell us something and somehow continue to protect us and Guam?

I had the honor of attending the ceremony on January 20th at the Fiesta Hotel, and took the following videos. I’m also pasting below the report from Pacific News Center.

Ron Laguana asking for forgiveness for the damage that has been done to the spirits and the bodies of the ancestors that were disturbed.

Tony Ramirez is attacking as the techa for the ceremony. He is singing a funeral dirge for the spirits of those being reburied.

The actual placing of the remains in a crypt beneath the monument.

The Famagu’on Hurao Cultural Camp are singing for the spirits of their ancestors after the remains have been re-buried. The song is asking that the spirits of their ancestors remain in their lives giving them strength to face the future.

The Pacific News Center report on the re-burials.