March in the CHamoru language is “Matso.” CHamoru is the culture and ethnicity of the native people of Guam. Matso is significant to the CHamoru culture because it is the time where the island celebrates its culture, its people, and its home. This is the month of Mes CHamoru, or CHamoru month.
As a CHamoru woman, I believe that women have always had a powerful influence on the island ever since the beginning of time. In the CHamoru creation story, the mother of creation, Fu’una, launched herself onto the island and created life—she allowed the plants to grow, the sun to shine, and the CHamoru people to walk the earth that she and her brother, Puntan, created together. Puntan gave his body to create the world—his eyes were the sun and moon, his eyebrows were the rainbows, and his back created the earth. Fu’una gave it life.
That’s the kind of power I believe the famalao’an (women) have—both on the island and in general. They inspire life, they take care of their people—without the famalao’an, the world wouldn’t be where it is today. The famalao’an represents power, strength, and love. They have always been equal to the men, there was never a time on the island where they were looked down upon just because they were women. This goes way back to when the island had clan leaders. Most would assume that everywhere in the world, it started with only a male leader—not on Guam. Every clan had a magalåhi, which means male chief, and a magahåga, which means female chief. Both of them were important, both of them were equal.
During this month of CHamoru celebration, festivals and fiestas take place all over the island. I currently live in the village of Sinjaña, but my family is from the village of Yoña which is south of the island. That’s where most of what I like to think of as the pure island pride takes place—down south. The island is so green down there and the sights really make it feel like home. The food is also amazing and so rich in culture—the red rice, kelaguen, CHamoru barbecue, latiya, and the list goes on! The festivals bring the CHamoru people together. Seeing the children come to these things and seeing how their parents immerse them into the richness of the culture warms my heart, because there was once a time where the CHamoru people weren’t able to celebrate who they were—they weren’t even allowed to speak their language under the control of the Spanish, then the Japanese, then when it was “liberated” by America. To see how our island still has the courage and pride to show up and show out during this month is what I think being CHamoru is—proud. And we should be.
Angelica Taitano from the village of MongMong-Toto-Maite said, “The most important part of Pulan [Mes] CHamoru is participation and celebrating the CHamoru culture. This can be with family, friends, and those who take part in the CHamoru culture in the community. It is a huge part of my life and I feel that I always contribute something through participating in the culture and celebrating what makes the culture unique.” I echo her entirely. Being able to experience these festivities from afar while also contributing to the community and the celebration through my writing is so special to me.
Being away from home during Mes CHamoru is hard, but a way that I celebrate out here in Boston is by cooking. Granted, I can’t make much in fear of setting off the fire alarms, but my specialty is my buñelos aga’ which are banana donuts. I made these and shared them with my friends and even some of my professors and classmates. Being able to create a part of my culture and share it with other people means more to me than anyone will understand.
Another famalao’an who finds her CHamoru pride through cooking is Alexa Taimanglo from Baza Gardens in the village of Yoña. “I try to follow my grandpa with CHamoru recipes,” she said. “Not only is it a great bonding experience, but I also get to learn more about my culture through food, which is one of the best things in my opinion.”
Ungildil True “Nini” Kyota, who is from the village of Chalan Pågo and a college student attending school on the mainland said she keeps the culture alive by “actively representing it within the AAPI community, both on campus and in the larger Arizona community.”
I unfortunately am not fluent in my CHamoru language, but I wish to immerse myself in the culture’s most vital part. I want to be able to communicate with my people through my language. In agreement, Kyota said, “I would love to deepen my knowledge of the CHamoru language. Language is such a vital part of identity, and while I understand some CHamoru, I’d love to become fluent and be able to pass it on, or just be able to understand what my Nåna is saying whenever she doesn’t feel like telling me what to do in English.”
Hearing from these CHamoru women, how much their culture means to them, and how they keep it alive is something that deserves to be heard. This is Mes CHamoru through the eyes of the famalao’an.
If you couldn’t tell through my writing up to this point, I am passionate about my culture, my island, and my home. But, I’m even more passionate about people learning and acknowledging Guåhan (Guam) as something other than a U.S. military base, which is what people mostly think of when they think of Guam. In a way, I feel sorry for those who don’t know what Guam truly is. Guam is family. Guam is buñelos aga’. Guam is respetu (respect). Guam is passion and pride. Guam is love. Guam is someone’s home. Guam is a part of me. My only hope is that you, my reader, can see and understand that Guam isn’t just something that can be forgotten or overlooked. Guam is here and we deserve to be seen.