The Struggle for Identity
A Critique of the Chamori Culture
By:  Daria Jacobs

The people of Guam (Guahan) are indeed, struggling for identity. Some refer to themselves as ChamorrOs;
some use the term ChamorUs; and then some find ChamorIs much to their liking. The truth of the matter is
that the last term, ChamorI happens to be the best word to describe the people because it was the closest
term referred to in the first Spanish document in reference to what our ancestors called themselves. In the
earliest Spanish documents, the people of Guahan were called: "Chamurre" and spelled as it was pronounced.
Where the terms Chamorro and Chamoru came from is a long and uneventful story, which for the purpose of
this article, will not be touched upon.

Numerous authors and historians have depicted our ancestors as practicing a "caste social structure" with
the Chamoris and Matuas being the "royalties", the Achaots being the "Middle Class" and the Manachangs
being the "Slaves or Servants". From the writings of anthropologist Laura Thompson, who wrote the first
documented history of the people of Guahan...much of this social prejudice became a gospel for the new
generation. Norbert Perez, the Maga'saina of the Chamori people has written numerous papers and
conducted countless seminars to dispute the theories and assumptions of Dr. Thompson. And for all
practical purposes, he has succeeded in putting order and meaning into his belief system using our
oral language as a mapping tool....afterall, the history of our people has been handed down for five
thousand years through our native tongue.


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WALL STREET JOURNAL
March 28, 2000

Guam Struggles to Find Its Roots Beneath Growing Piles of Spam
By ROBERT FRANK
Staff Reporter of THE WALL STREET JOURNAL

HAGATNA, Guam -- The brochures for this breezy Pacific outpost boast
of a "small island containing a world of cultures." On the main drag
in downtown Hagatna, Japanese noodle shops thrive amid Dairy Queens,
cha-cha clubs, Spanish-style Catholic churches and American strip
clubs. There's even a Wild West-style shooting gallery that doubles
as a wedding chapel for visiting South Koreans.

And what about the native culture of Guam? "Oh, gee. I'm not sure
where to even look," says a Japanese concierge at the Guam Hyatt
Regency. "Maybe the mall?"

Cold War Castaway

Forgive Guam its confusion. Officially, this small volcanic island in
the middle of the Pacific, which has been colonized three times, is
an "unincorporated territory of the U.S." Unofficially, it's a Cold
War castaway looking for a purpose. For decades, it was supported by
the Navy, and more recently, by Japanese tourists looking for a
nearby beach and duty-free Chanel bags. Through it all, people here
have patiently adopted the language, food, clothing and religion of
their invaders in hopes of being accepted.

Yet now, with self-determination all the rage around the world, Guam
is looking for its inner Guamanian. Local residents are scheduled to
vote in July on whether to remain part of the U.S. or become
independent, setting the stage for a new round of talks with Congress
on the island's status. Guam's indigenous Chamorros are banding
together to fight for Chamorro rights, Chamorro businesses and, most
of all, Chamorro culture.

Leading the charge is the Chamorro Nation, a group of tattooed youths
and tribal activists who seek to reclaim the country. Their methods
are mild -- aside from staging the occasional sit-in, they give beach
tours and fauna lessons.

The group has gained widespread popularity on an island searching for
its precolonial roots. "We've had some tough times since Magellan
landed" in 1521, says Eddie L.G. Benavente, leader of the Chamorro
Nation, and a teacher at Guam's John F. Kennedy High School. "But now
it's time to take control of our country and our culture."

Trouble is, after all those invasions, no one is quite sure what
Chamorro culture is. On a steamy evening along the coast, the lights
flicker on at Chamorro Village. A Spanish-style plaza of stalls and
shops, Chamorro Village was born in the early 1990s to promote
Chamorro arts and crafts and raise the profile of Chamorro culture.
Tonight, only a few stalls are open -- and they're far from Chamorro.
Most sell kimonos and T-shirts. Carmen's Mexican Restaurant is dark,
and the Jamaican Grille is empty. The only visitors are two Koreans
sitting in the food court eating Szechuan food.

"You have to come on Wednesday nights," says Tien Bin Wu, a
67-year-old owner of a Cantonese food stall. "Wednesday night is
Chamorro night."

At the far corner of the village, Jose Rosario proudly shows off his
small collection of "genuine Chamorro artifacts." His store, called
Che lu -- which means "brother" or "sister" in the rarely spoken
language of Chamorro -- offers old-fashioned fishhooks and a
collection of egg-shaped rocks that were once used in Chamorro
slingshots. His biggest seller is the Che lu baseball hat.

Mr. Rosario concedes that four centuries of colonial rule have taken
their toll on the Chamorro identity. Less than 40% of the island's
160,000 people are now considered "Chamorro," and most of them have
Philippine or Mexican ancestors, dating from Guam's 18th- and
19th-century trading days. Most of the island's original settlers --
of Malay and Indonesian descent -- were wiped out by either disease
or war with the various colonizers, which included the Spanish,
Americans and Japanese. Filipinos, who are pouring into Guam for
jobs, are expected to outnumber Chamorros in the next decade.

Still, Mr. Rosario says he sees a "renaissance" in Chamorro pride,
based on legends and history passed down from generation to
generation. A 1671 speech by a tribal chief named Hurao, who gored a
Spanish missionary with a lance, has become a rallying cry for
nationalists.

"Before [the Spaniards] arrived ... did we know rats, flies,
mosquitoes and all the other little animals which constantly torment
us?" Chief Hurao said, in a speech recounted by a French Jesuit.
"These are the beautiful presents they have made us."

Spam Capital

Later came the gift of Spam. Guam's culinary past, buried under
Spanish rice, Philippine noodles and American burgers, has been
difficult to uncover. The island's two most celebrated dishes -- red
rice, and pancit, a fried-noodle dish -- are both Filipino. Spam is
the true national mainstay, thanks to the Americans. Guam consumes
more Spam per capita than any country in the world, according to its
maker, Hormel Foods Corp. Guam hosts a Spam Olympics to honor new
Spam recipes.

Even the celebrated Chamorro Chip Cookie turns out to be tainted. At
the small cookie factory, dozens of locals mix a secret blend of
nuts, dough and chocolate chips to create one of the island's
best-known delicacies. The labeling on the folksy-looking boxes,
written in Chamorro, says "made exclusively on Guam." But Chamorro
Chip is owned by a Bostonian, Bob McLaughlin, who also owns the
Boston Pizza Co. on Guam.

Dozens of Chamorros interviewed struggled to name a food that is
distinctly Chamorro.

"I've got one!" says Tony Lamorena, a local senator. "Barbecued fruit
bat. My grandmother used to make it." The local fruit bat, however,
is a threatened species and can't be eaten. The same is true of Mr.
Lamorena's other suggestion, sea turtle. "I guess we'll stick to
Spam," he says with a sigh.

Seen in the Ocean

High on Guam's tallest sea cliff, two bronze figures embrace in the
sunset. The statues honor the legend of the Two Lovers, a key part of
the Chamorro culture. During early Spanish rule, the story goes, a
fair Chamorro maiden was ordered by her father to marry a Spanish
army  captain. She refused, having fallen in love with a handsome
Chamorro warrior. After the two tried to escape, they were chased by
the Spanish army to the edge of the cliff. Rather than surrender, the
two tied their long black braids together and plunged into the dark
waters. On a moonlit night, locals say they can see the spirits of
the two lovers frolicking in the ocean below.

They're more likely to see ice-cream cups. At the top of the cliff, a
tourist lookout is perched at the edge of the Lovers Point, flanked
by a Haagen-Dazs stand and postcard booth. While it's billed as a
sacred Chamorro site, few Chamorros ever visit. The only visitors
these days are the occasional Japanese couple who use the site for
weddings.

"Who's a Chamorro, and who's not?" asks 18-year-old Menchie Canlas, a
Filipino ticket-taker at the cliff. "I don't think anybody knows
anymore."