In a Bind

By Alli Sinclair

Billions of dollars, perhaps trillions, are spent every year on hair products and styling. It’s a lucrative industry and is a classic example of us humans obsessing over our noggins. This fascination isn’t new. In fact, the ancient world took this one step further—by altering their skulls.

Head binding, also known as artificial cranial deformation, dates back to 45,000 BC. The ancient Egyptians, Syrians, Maltese, Russians, Germans, and Australian Aborigines have all undertaken various forms of skull “enhancement” by binding their skull or placing cradleboards around a baby’s head to change the shape of their head.

Zip over to the Americas, and you’ll find the Mayans, Incas, and the tribes of the Chinookan and Choctaw people in North America also undertook the custom of deforming skulls as part of their culture. The Choctaw, Chehalis, and Nooksack Indians practised head flattening and on the coastal of Peru, not far from Lima, the Paracas culture had an array of altered head shapes.

Scientists have discovered at least five different shapes of elongated skulls in different cemeteries in the Paracas region. The most remarkable being a site called Chongos, not far from the quaint town of Pisco where the famous cone-shaped skulls were discovered.

Archaeologists specialising in the Mayans have discovered how altered skulls vary, depending on their geography. Skulls found in the lowlands had a slanted appearance, while skulls discovered in the highlands had an erect shape. They’ve even unearthed skulls that have a division down the middle and two distinct holes. The Mayans believed that every object has an essence, including the elements. While the mother was giving birth, the Mayans ensured the house was closed so the evil wind couldn’t harm the baby and as the baby’s soul was no yet tethered to the baby, the infants were even more vulnerable. Binding the baby’s head was akin to creating a roof over one’s head, and therefore a form of protection for the young child that would stay with it forever.

Some archaeologists believe the act of altering one’s skull was to create a “desirable” shape to make the person more aesthetically pleasing and on Tomman Island in Vanuatu, where it is still practised today, elongating the skull signifies intelligence and being closer to spirits. Whether it was for social status, such as an Incan nobleman, or for an affiliation with a tribe, the act of altering one’s skull causes great controversy in the archaeological world and certainly makes for some interesting discussions. Whatever the reasons, humans have always taken great care to alter their bodies, including their hair and head. So next time you go to the hairdresser, be careful what you ask for!

Seeing the Light

By Alli Sinclair

I’m a glass is half full kinda gal and I like to believe there are more good people in the world than bad. Travelling has always been a great way to test my theory and I’m happy to report, my theory of more good people than bad holds up. I’ve met many, many people willing to give up their time and comforts to go and make a difference in people’s lives, especially in developing countries.

If you asked me to name the most inspirational person who has done wonderful volunteer work and changed the health and welfare of entire communities, there would be no argument--Frederick “Fred” Cossom Hollows wins, hands down.

Born in New Zealand in 1929, Fred Hollows studied ophthalmology and moved to Australia in 1965 where he became an associate professor of ophthalmology at the University of New South Wales. His interest in charity work had been sparked while studying in New Zealand, and when he moved to Australia, Fred travelled to outback Australia and worked with Aboriginal communities. During his time there, he grew concerned about the high incidence of eye disorders amongst the Aboriginal people, especially trachoma (a condition that can be treated with medication).

Fred, his mother, and others set up an Aboriginal Medical Service in Redfern, a suburb of Sydney with a high indigenous population. From this success, they set up similar clinics throughout Australia. He organized the Royal Australian College of Ophthalmologists to establish the National Trachoma and Eye Health Program. Between 1976-1978, Fred and his team visited more than 460 Aboriginal communities, treating 62,000 people. As a result, 27,000 people were treated for trachoma, and another 1,000 received necessary eye operations.

Fred travelled to Nepal in 1985, Eritrea in 1987, and Vietnam in 1991, training local technicians to perform life-changing surgery in remote regions. He organized intraocular lens laboratories in Nepal and Eritrea to provide lenses at cost (around USD9).

Many of the people in these countries suffered blindness that could have been fixed with simple operations. They couldn’t work because they couldn’t see, and it was impossible to travel to large cities to obtain the help they so desperately needed. So Fred and his team visited them and found many of the patients had cataracts that could be removed and the patient could quickly return to work and earn money for their familes. Eye infections were cleared up with short doses of antibiotics and within a short while, Fred and his team changed the lives of many people, and in a lot of cases, entire communities.

In 1992 the Fred Hollows Foundation was formed but unfortunately, only five months later, Fred passed away from cancer. But thanks to the work of his wife, Gabi, and friends and family, the Fred Hollows Foundation has grown to the point where they now work in over 40 countries around the world including the continents of Asia, Australia, Europe, and Africa.

To give an example of the work they do, in 2011 (taken from the Fred Hollows Website), people working with his foundation have:

* performed eye operations on 282,714 people

* supported training for 10,757 medical and support staff

* examined 1,604,802 people

* delivered $3.38 million of medical equipment

* Built or upgraded 50 eye health facilities

This man’s kindness, knowledge, and undying belief that everyone has a right to health has changed countless lives and communities for the better. Even now, years after his passing, Fred’s team are and giving millions of people the chance to see the world and their loved ones and gain back their independence and self-esteem.

The world could do with more people like Fred and Gabi Hollows. I can only imagine…

If you want to find out more about The Fred Hollows Foundation or get involved, please click here:

http://www.hollows.org.au/our-work

Australia Dreaming

The Olgas, Northern Territory, Australia

My earliest recollection of stories relating to Australia’s first people, the Aboriginals, includes a story about Tiddalik the Frog. This thirsty creature drank up the world’s water supply until he’d consumed every available drop causing some animals, trees, and bushes to die of thirst. The surviving animals got together to ponder their plight, when an old wombat suggested making Tiddalik laugh. If they could do this, then water would flow out of his mouth and the parched lands would once again be fertile.

The animals gathered in front of Tiddalik, and one by one, they tried to make him laugh, but to no avail. The kookaburra told his funniest story, the lizard walked on two legs and stuck his stomach out, and the kangaroo and the emu played leapfrog. Yet Tiddalik continued to sit with a stony face.

Katherine Gorge, Northern Territory, Australia

Finally, the eel Nabunum, who had lost his creek home as a result of the drought, slid up in front the frog and put on a show. He danced and wriggled and twisted himself into an array of knots until Tiddalik’s eyes lit up and he burst out laughing. Water gushed from his mouth and flowed along the dry soil to replenish the lakes, swamps, and rivers.

The story of Tiddalik is believed to be about the water-holding frog from central Australia. This frog burrows underground during droughts and emerges when it rains to absorb large amounts of water, and to breed and feed. During times of drought, the Aboriginals of Australia follow this frog to source water.

With a history that dates back to between 40,000 and 125,000 years before European settlers arrived, the Aboriginal people have a wonderfully rich culture. The Dreaming, or Dreamtime, as it is sometimes known, is their way of understanding the world, its creation, and is the basis of their laws of existence.

During the Dreaming, ancestral spirits came to the earth and shaped the land, including lakes, mountains and rivers, as well as humans, plants and animals. The Dreaming are passed down in a variety of ways, including oral narration, music, and artwork. Some of these stories, including the story of Tiddalik the Frog, are well-known outside the Aboriginal community.

Every Aboriginal has a special link to the Dreaming, which happens the moment they are conceived. It is believed the life of each baby is activated by a spirit that enters the mother’s body; the spirit is associated with the place where the mother first learnt about her unborn child. Each landscape has its own Dreaming so everyone knows which Dreaming the child belongs to. Children learn about the stories and ceremonies associated with their particular Dreaming, and once they’re old enough, they’re invited to join in and perform these ceremonies. 

The Aboriginal flag

Many Dreaming stories are sacred and can only be told by certain people. For example, Aboriginal men have stories that can’t be revealed to uninitiated males. The women have stories only shared amongst themselves, and sometimes the younger or unmarried women aren’t permitted to hear the stories. To tell a story to the wrong person is a serious breach of law. 

Dreaming stories teach values about land, the spiritual world, and rules for living. These foundations of Aboriginal society are passed down to each generation and are just as relevant now, as they were thousands of years ago. With strong ties to the earth, the Aboriginal people view themselves as caretakers of the land, and their duty is to respect and look after Mother Earth. Personally, we can all learn a lot from Dreaming stories.

What's The Word?

Bilingual road signs in Corsica with
the French names crossed out and
the Corsu names showing beneath them.
UNESCO classifies Corsu as a potentially
endangered language. (Photo by skender)

Did you know the plural for “wife” in Spanish is esposas, which also happens to mean handcuffs? Or that in Korea, the word for “sweetheart” is the same as the one for “self” (chagi). What do these examples say about the cultures they hail from, or do they mean anything at all?

I love learning word trivia, particularly when it makes me think about cultural roots, histories, psychology, and etymology. There’s a term for this in the linguistics field, the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, which basically says your language affects your world view.

Consider what some of these vignettes might say about their cultures:

• Pirahã is an ancient language spoken by an indigenous people who live along a tributary, the Maici River, along the Amazon. Pirahãs themselves number only between 250 and 380 speakers, and it’s believed they’re monolingual. As well, theirs is a “language isolate,” which means it has no known connection to any other living languages.

What’s fascinating is how simple Pirahãs keep things. They have the fewest words to describe kinship than any other culture. The word baíxi represents both mother and father (essentially meaning parent), and they don’t have words to represent any other relatives beyond their immediate siblings. (Talk about a nuclear family!) They use the same word for the numbers one and two, distinguished only by the tone in which the word is spoken; all other numbers are represented as either a few or many. Pirahãs don’t have words for colors either, distinguishing them only as light or dark.

• Aymara, the ancient indigenous language of the Andes (spoken by more than two million in Bolivia, Peru, and Chile), has a unique and rare expression of time. It doesn’t have a future tense but instead represents the past as in front of them and the future as behind them. While that sounds confusing and perhaps impossible, consider expressions in English: “Let’s prepare for what lies before us” or “We face an uncertain future.”

• In Indonesia, verbs never change to express time. Whether it happened before, is happening now, or will happen later, the verb tense remains the same. On the other hand, the Yagua language of Peru uses five verb tenses – one for something that happened within the last few hours, one for the day before, another for something that occurred within the past few weeks, another for an occurrence at least two months ago but less than a couple years, and another for anything that happened longer ago than that.

• Speakers of Japanese and Spanish are thought to base their verb tenses on intent. If you meant to do it, you “pushed” a cup off the table. But if you did it accidentally, “it fell” (so presumably you had nothing to do with it). I’m not sure this is as rare a linguist feature as it might sound. We use a lot of passive voice in English as well, especially when trying to deflect blame. Think of official corporate statements and government speak.

• About a third of the world’s languages have no concept of right or left. Instead, they use directional language (east, west, south, north) for everything. We might lay out a series of photos, for example, from left to right (or as Hebrew speakers might explain it, right to left.) But many cultures would describe them as west to east. One reason is because navigation is so much more important in these cultures than for us. For example, even small children of the Australian aboriginals, the Thaayores, learn early how to find their way around.

• In English, blue describes an overall color. In Russian, there’s no one word encompassing the color but numerous words for shades of it (such as light, very light, dark, navy, steel, etcetera). 

• In fact, many languages do not distinguish between the colors blue and green (such as Thai, Welsh, and the African language, Tswana) or have a single word that can describe either (as in Korean and Chinese). In Vietnamese, both the sky and the leaves of a tree are xanh (pronounced “grue”). They might say “leaf grue” or “ocean grue” to distinguish the shade, but the overall color is still the same. In Japanese, the word for blue (ao) is often used for the word many English speakers would think of as green (such as the color representing “go” on a traffic signal).

• Some languages use gender to describe things, though not consistently across languages. So in German, the word for moon is male and sun female, while French, Spanish, and Hindi use the inverse, with a female moon and a male sun. In other languages, such as Farsi, pronoun articles are gender neutral. Then there are those, such as Danish, where articles can be male, female, or neutral. And curiously, gender-free objects in Danish can take either of two kinds of articles: en (the equivalent of “an” in English) or et (“it”) and den or det (as in “the” or “it”). As one Dane told me, “there’s no rhyme or reason for it—you just have to memorize which one to use.”

Know any other language trivia you can add to the list?