No Country for Eight-Spot Butterflies

Culture, Time, and Legacy

 

In the first part of this reading, what truly stood out to me was Aguon’s connection to time as it relates to culture and history. Throughout the collection, Aguon crafted a sense of time that remained ever present, yet unobtrusive. While not too often the center of the piece, time made its impact. Most obviously, the story of time interwove itself with the story of his people. Simultaneously, it felt as if the pieces were deeply intimate—as the introduction described: “This book is an embrace” (2)—and yet drew back to view the entire world. Injustice, another theme in this semester, manifests in his discussions of his people, time, and culture.

In this reading, Aguon highlights the relationship between the present and past, as explicitly shown in his titular piece “No Country for Eight-Spot Butterflies”. He writes of the horrifying militarization the Unites States’ military imposes (and imposed) on his country, which threaten the legacies of his past the remembrance of his ancestors. Colonialism and imperialism have yet to cease, as obviously seen in Guam. Time arises in Aguon’s essay as he writes about the protestors rallying against the US government: “Many of these protestors, including myself, are Indigenous Chamorros whose ancestors endured five centuries of colonization and who see this most recent wave of unilateral action by the United States simply as the latest course in a long and steady diet of dispossession” (9). Time exists in this context as a testament to the suffering and endurance of the Indigenous peoples of Guam. And yet, it also testifies to their resilience and their ability to structure the past according to themselves; the US hasn’t taken away their history—yet. But this new movement to raze the land and build military infrastructure threatens this history.

In examining this piece, another important facet of time and history is land. As Aguon explains, the land acts as a part of his culture; the people and the land exist in a dialectic of sorts; they are interlocked and interwoven. He speaks of the importance of the land for medicinal and cultural purposes, how their healers “are perpetuating our culture” with their particular healing practices. In those forests, one finds the tools necessary for healing. And yet, it faces threat from the US government. This clearing of land concurrently acts as a clearing of culture. Land and time, from what I gather, work in tandem with people to propagate and protect culture. But the actions of the military aim to create a new history—one that ignores the people of Guam and focuses on the power and might of global capitalism and “freedom”. 

This particular piece/section of Aguon’s work stood out to me because of how it demonstrates time and land, which I think is an essential part in understanding time within the context of histories and legacies (especially of marginalized people). As we discussed in class, the present can change the past. While we’ve talked about it in a positive light—specifically with our country’s recognition of past wrongs and highlighting the voices of those previously silenced—it can also be for evil. And, in this piece, it seems that the rewriting of a land also rewrites the past, in a way; it disconnects the people further from their ancestors. Nonetheless, there is still hope. The people remain, certainly, and there is still time for change. 

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