Environmental History & Ethnography of Guåhan @gabbysurpblog - Tumblr Blog

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7/5/2026: it’s 11:00 pm in a sunday night and legacy of amerikkkan empire and western//human-exacerbated climate changes looms over my people and me increasingly. 250 years of reign and terror on the continent matched with rain and terror in the marianas. this archipelago is no stranger to typhoon season, so perhaps this really is a “welcome home” message rather than solely a bad omen. almost two weeks ago, i rematriated to my home island of guåhan/guam. i got an offer in the government i couldn’t refuse (that is, to be a real deal historian!) many moons ago in january 2026, and i was fortunate enough to delay my departure date to late june for the sake of fun and sacred activities: namely attending a work conference on u.s. territories and taking part in two friends’ summer weddings.

during my final stint on the continent, i travelled allll over the country: chandler, winslow, phoenix, & tucson, arizona; missoula, glacier national park, and other locales in montana; chicago, illinois; washington d.c.; and new york city! and of course, many trips up to LA, down to SD, and lots of quality time in my hometown before i said “see you later” to so many special loved ones. my original timeline was around march-april to leave for guam, but thankfully i advocated for an extension on turtle island; in fact, i narrowly missed typhoon sinlaku which took place in april 2026. it’s now early july, and somehow another supertyphoon is slowly but surely hurdling towards us. still sitting with this ironic twist of fate as i see people succumb to the horrors of july 4th— liberalized attempts of partying without feeling guilt, a spectacle-oriented version of thankstaking. i wonder if this internal, righteous, seemingly singular anger will ever dissipate but i don’t think so. i just finished reading lucy (1990) by jamaica kincaid and i feel her pain, even though we have massive differences personality and outlook wise. i am on the opposite end of the spectrum in terms of migration so i have much to be grateful for and still contend with as i adjust. for now, i will lay in my cousin’s super squeaky bed as the rain and wind mash about outside the shutters, beckoning us to take a peak when a new day arises. i hope the storm passes sooner rather than later and that our islands, our livelihoods, are spared. especially the cnmi, biba mariana islands 🇬🇺🇲🇵❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

#typhoon #guam #saipan #marianas

giovedì (3/14/25): the day after

the thing that hit me immediately was the act of fasting— i did not know we were allowed two slall meals and a main meal, i thought it was one of the other, so i really fasted today. my ex was on a single meal diet when we reunited, i thought he was on the verge of develoing an ED. i do not want to do that to myself for the sake of lent, my mom is already worried enough about me. anyways, yesterday was a long but good day. my friend came to discuss indigenous librarianship—one of my dreams was to become a librarian, i am curious about it but naturally more debt ensues. we both fell into our careers by default, but i am grateful for where things are at and headed. my boss gave me flowers for the way i handle things gracefully and checked in about my job going up for permanency— i really appreciated that. i hope to continue but i also support whoever is the right candidate for the role. i attended meetings all day, preparing for people to leave positions by the end of the fiscal year. i hung out w my coworkers for a bit and my friend; it rained a bit yesterday. it rained even harder in the evening, especially by the time i got to my catholic class. we had a meditative prayer led by the deacon; it was hard for me to buy it, usually i am compliant/interested in this style of prayer. i think i still resent him bc he has that sense of hawaiian supremacy compared to other pacific islanders (when i told him i was from guam, he said they are different islands (ya, i know) and wasn’t very welcoming). i have to learn to let that go. we proceeded to talk about lent, our main leader didn’t let anyone discuss their ash wednesday experience. now that i am an actual teacher/professor/facilitator, it can be hard to see poor organization and facilitation skills in action. i have to work on that parable regarding hypocrisy and judgement, that asks us to not worry about other people’s issues when we ourselves each have a beam or splinter in our eye. i finished blue velvet when i got home—what a strange world we live in. why do terrible people exist? why is the world so strange ? bc god imbued us with freedom and that freedom leads us to very diverse paths, good, bad, & inbetween. c’est la vie. holding onto hope and hunger this szn

mercoledì (3/5/25): ash wednesday

i started off the first day of lent rather strong, attending morning mass and receiving ashes alongside my sponsor. he wanted to watch some of rhe lectures i’ve recorded thus far for my ethnic studies intro section, appreciated but unexpected. letting people into your inner sanctum, or at least other parts of your life beyond their prescribed role, can be difficult. his interest in the matter is refreshing and i hope it translates well enough.

work was good, several people wished me well on ash wednesday but i did not witness any fellow catholics—i wasn’t roaming about campus enough to see others perhaps. my fasting left me susceptible to multiple sweet treats that comprised my first tiny meal of the day: chocolate covered strawberries and ice cream sundae (thrifty’s to be exact, mint chocolate chip and standard chocolate chip). work day itself was rather chill, somewhat taxing to be stagnant and couped up in the office all day though. need to get out and be active in addition to paddling, but time is not in abundance as of late and estoy siempre cansada.

we bought our plane tickets for puerto rico, so the conference feels more official than ever. i gave up social media (instagram specifically) for lent, so friends and family won’t even know until way later. so, so silly. i spoke with mady today, she brought up the pope. he deleted our new mexico photos folder, che triste. the first guy i kissed post-pope break-up pt. i hit me up months later. that is the kind of persistence i want and need in a new partner, not newfound abandonment issues. trying to learn to let go while also honoring everything i have experienced, good and bad.

today god blessed us at mass with a wonderful baritone singer. my favorite song included these lyrics:

“sacred silence, holy ocean,

gentle water, washing over me;

help me listen, Holy Spirit.

come and speak to me.”

#catholic core #catholic #lent #ash wednesday

Thesis Trauma

Like anyone else in this world, I have been suffering. Actively and passively. Out of my own volition and at the behest of sources beyond my comprehension. It is hard to focus on an academic project, both its cultivation and completion, when there are so many distracting and destructive events occupying my brain space. I am no exception, merely an example. I fought tooth and nail to work two on campus jobs, one being my guaranteed position of a teaching assistant (thank you fee remissions and the opportunity to formally try out teaching) and the other being a mentorship coordinator for a retention project dedicated to my ethnic community. That same community protested for its creation and petitioned for my hiring, a position I had experience in prior but lacked sufficient preparation due to delayed hiring and yearlong drama which would pop off like a powder keg months later. Fall 2022 my teaching journey was interrupted by UC wide strikes, a welcomed but mysterious interlude which did impact my already COVID-lax approach to teaching. Winter quarter felt like a restive intermediate phase, a calm before the storm if you will. Afterwards, the joy of spring was met with drama and avoidance of the major task at hand. I sought fulfillment in the wrong areas, specifically in the sector of romance and relationships, rather than focusing on the most important and pressing matter of my master's program: thesis. I care, I really do. In the same way I still care about it today, I truly do believe in the promise and potential of my project, that of telling diasporic Chamoru stories engulfed in a complicated history of privileged yet ultimately colonial-ridden citizenship, that it scares me. In the battle between fight or flight, I am simply in a prolonged state of freeze. I hope it clears up soon, and the only one in control is me. Not my friends or my family, not even my intimidating uncle of an advisor. "Tick tock, time is up, you owe me." Truer words were never spoken and it's time to take accountability, translate my thoughts and feelings into action (aka put pen to paper/write it out/draft my chapters regardless of how terrible the initial errors might be--that's what editing is for!), and act right. I feel so many things as of late, and the numbing spell cast over me all last year is hopefully wearing off this fall. I will still continue to live my life, to work as a TA while I finish this thesis, but this season will be devoted to making sense of my community's tricky history through oral histories and archival research I have collected during the past couple years and creating something I can be proud of. I am a writer and I have hopes and dreams--I need to stop deluding myself into thoughtful submission and translate internal conflict and conviction into words on the page. Here's to progress, step by step, it's a battle but I am invigorated by Indigenous people around the globe, especially the Palestinian people as their resilience and love for the land and one another continues on for lifetimes to come. Despite the mass information spouted by the media and western nation-states, a free Palestine is worth fighting for in honor of its people for all eternity. <3

july 12th, 2022

wow, lots to cover, v tired. wish olivia wasn’t leaving. we spent all day together, 9 am to midnight. saw a suruhana who gave us a tour of her garden, went to an old spanish bridge and took pics near the flame tree, went to meskla dos for lunch, rained a lil, k mart where i spent way too much money, then a fancy boutique where i spent way too much money (local artists tho), went back to her cousin’s where we called different people (my grandma, her bf), went back to scotty’s to change, went to sunset yoga, went back to scotty’s to shower, then hers, then her other cousin’s. sat in the back of a tiny japanese jittney, learned how to drive stick!! in a big truck!! (nothing crazy but impressive), went to beach near uog marine lab, back to her cousins, ate fresh marlin, drove her back home, said goodbye (borrowed her sisters hiking shoes), found parking in the front lot, got ready & now i’m in bed.

need to figure out plans for week and month ahead, get back into grind of research but that was a very nice, lovely, and welcome excursion both in and outside of my project.

pt. ii

yesterday recap:

•first day at the marc, limited info on chamorros in the u.s. and guamanians in california, vertical file; same lady running it, v sweet & supportive

•then to chief hurao academy, spent time following saina suruhana, learning her life story, seeing kids canta y baila, all in chamoru. so impressive, i want to learn. truly. olivia joined, then we weaved coconut leaves with the kids.

•left for her cousins place in barrigada, stopped for gas on the way. they pump your gas for you? crazy, guy was nice to chat with. watched moon knight, then headed for chamorro village but it was empty. i got hiccups

•went to fd for alumni basketball tournament, v frat-esque. snuck in, free four & alcohol, v hot inside. met olivia’s friend john who did drag racing w yigolo’s, knows my dad! crazy. he offered for me to go on friday after the game

upcoming:

evyn’s exhibition w guam philharmonic wednesday, 6 pm tumon sands plaza

bbq w ishizu cousins, pork belly (get salad stuff)

friday chief hurao galaide experience at matapang, fd game, drag racing

we’ll see if this all comes to fruition, today is liv’s last day here so also gonna do fun stuff today (tuesday) after spending a couple hours at the marc. was supposed to return before 4 pm yesterday, but wanted to stay at hurao longer. i’ll bring her a weaving as proof :)

I have only been here for a couple of hours and I already feel so loved, protected, and cared for.

Flight situation had its bumps, but getting switched from a window seat to a middle seat (so a family could sit together) left me with more leg room, a $100 voucher, and complimentary snack for the first leg from LAX to HNL. I had a two hour layover, had quiznos and then walked around to get my grandma the pineapple shaped shortbread cookies. Sat at the little cultural garden for a bit, taking in the scenery. Sad I couldn’t see Sarah, but maybe I’ll make time to see my other Ishizu cousins on way back once I check in with them. Second leg went by pretty fast, only annoying part was the guy sleeping on me almost the whole way. Got some reading in, watched a good portion of Minari, decent flight meal (tofu pasta, roll, chocolate covered macadamia, etc.). Getting my checked bags was easy because the first flight was so full they checked in my mini luggage, and I was one of the first people through customs.

The man asked if I was coming back home, I said yeah, after a couple years in reference to my last trip. He was so sweet and supportive, told me to move back home and run for senator lol. The other customs agent also said congrats on UCLA; felt really welcoming. Then Nina and Uncle Eric picked me up from the airport, took a picture in front of the Jamaican Grill wall mural, drove me to Scotty’s. He is so kind and so is his girlfriend, he offered for me to stay with him and use the car until his parents get back. Debating if I should, don’t want to overstay.

Read first chapter of the Chamoru diasporic routes dissertation by Jesi Lujan Bennett; pretty good. Makes me wonder how my thesis will fit into this emerging and ongoing world of Pasifika academia. Wish me luck. More updates to come.

Also spoke on the phone with my grandma, can’t wait to see her and be more intentional (and of course safe) in terms of my time with her. Also hope to see my friend Olivia before she leaves.

back on guam, july 9th, 2022!!

noirsilk-deactivated20200913

lunar-times

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This is a reminder that you are on the right path and everything is coming together. Trust your intuition and please don’t be so hard on yourself. You are deserving of rest, love, and joy; never forget that.

💫 ✨ 💫 ✨ 💫 ✨ 💫 ✨ 💫 ✨ 💫 ✨ 💫 ✨

just finished listening to/partially keyword transcribing my oral history interview with Craig Santos Perez. Brought me a lot of joy & comfort, especially with everything so up in the air rn it just affirms I must hold onto optimism and help in what ways I can through my thesis, through my actions, etc. for my community & the BLM movement since our liberation is interconnected. Maybe I’ll write some poetry.

Today was maybe my first or second day of “seriously” working on thesis; not very successful, seeing as I cannot differentiate between days anymore as they all feel the same. I’ve started by relistening to my oral interviews. Such an odd, somewhat repulsive sensation to hear my voice and what I said, just because I’m unlearning prejudices & applying today’s knowledge a year later than what I was hoping, aimlessly searching to gain last summer. I may line up two more interviews this summer over zoom with two Chamorro activist elders which hopefully can work into what I am currently envisioning my thesis as. It’s been tricky trying to decipher how to incorporate all the topics I want to talk about, but as a history major I understand the narrative arc has to be rooted & guided by my primary sources. I want to discuss the Chamorro sovereignty movement, centering on the main themes of militarization and indigeneity of course, and link it to any (if at all) connection/influence/solidarity with the Civil Rights/Black Power eras and subsequent ethnic movements in the continental U.S. Certainly I do not want to disregard the age of decolonization occurring in the Pacific as well as around the world (hello storia dell’Africa course I took in Italian this past spring semester), but I am based in a U.S. centric learning environment and Guam’s history is more than enamoured by principles espoused by this “country.” Mind you I envisioned this all prior to covid, prior to explosive reinvigoration of BLM movement, but it feels so prescient to inform my historical thesis as rooted & inspired by Civil Rights. Black people are the blueprint; I’ve always greatly admired and been mystified by the 60’s & 70’s, seeing as I took two courses on the era and movement history. Now my brain is exploding with consumption, critique, considering what is worth incorporating/informing without going off the deep end. Because it’s clear majority of what I was taught through grade school was informed by white supremacy, suppressing insurrection, offering a cleansed, willfully ignorant narrative of white superiority & their ever present savior complex. Now it’s transitioning into a painful but hopeful moment where everyone can contribute, centering Black voices of course. My liberation is tied up in theirs, and now I know why it seemed as if it was only Black v. white in the history books. I’m more than happy to continue anti racist work within myself, family, friends, communities. Long overdue.

so much can change in such little time. Just a couple days ago I was studying abroad in Bologna, Italy, with plans to stay there until June. I had such a marvelous time: making new friends, eating the best food, taking courses at the local university in Italian, immersing myself in the place and its culture. It was all cut way too abruptly, and I am devastated. The pain and loss from not being able to see this through is momentous, reaching almost as high as the peaks of the Alps featured here. This hurts more than any romantic breakup I’ve had, more than all the sadness and confusion I accumulated from not knowing my Italian ancestry that brought me to Italy in the first place. Maybe it hurts because this was something I sought for myself, something I put the time and effort in to obtain, something that was invaluable and no one could take away from me. It’s an experience that ended way too abruptly, but despite how sad I feel I couldn’t imagine it any other way. I wouldn’t want it any other way. I really came into my own, I gained a sense of comfort and confidence I never found myself capable of before, I was studying, speaking, thinking in Italian. It feels like a fever dream now, who knows if it actually happened, but I know everything happens for a reason and I have to be thankful that I am back home safe and sound with my family. As for the corona virus uproar, I need some radio silence before deciding where to get my news from and am in the process of deciding where to get my intel from. Best of luck to everyone, enjoy life and all its little moments 💓

Long time, no post(s)! I decided I might routinely check in with myself, and spout some ideas in terms of academic pathways or thesis ideas/formulating what I want it to be throughout what time I have remaining before I have to construct it (a semester and a half maybe) and through its inception until finish. Given the fact that my personal academic trajectory is multifaceted (yay liberal arts!), I want to incorporate some theories and frameworks I gained from other disciplines and classes outside of the history department at Pomona College. I want to use Gaventa’s 3 Dimensions of Power from my Voting, Campaigns, and Elections class with Professor Thomas Kim, Rob Nixon’s Slow Violence from Race, Gender, and the Environment with Professor Aimee Bahng, anything applicable from Community Health with Professor Kehāulani Vaughn, something art history related (like analyzing a work of art), something music related??? Like I don’t know exactly what journey I will carve my thesis into, but I’m thinking an ethno-political history of the modern Chamorro, with conceptions of race, nationality, indigeneity at play with realities of war/military, economic dependence, the psychology of shame, and productivity as ways of understanding how Guåhan has and continues to operate from the 20th century to now, why Chamorros are the way they are. How our island nation had a push towards self-determination, commonwealth/reunion with Northern Marianas in the 80’s and how it stalled; family history!! I have so many important ancestors who played central roles in this: former Governor Ricky Bordallo, Adrian Sanchez, Pedro Sanchez, that’s what I got for now. Mestizu identity, claims to land sovereignty, spiritual connection to ancestors and land, ahhhhh so much. Gonna stop before I can’t stop.

Let me just tell you today has been a crazy day. In my own little Chamorro world, I went to the T. Stell Newman Museum right across from Big Navy (navy base down south), revolving around WWII, Japanese occupation of the island, concentration camps, the death march, Japanese and American media propaganda, some basic stuff about Guam’s environment (score!), and then drove around the southern bend of the island to reach my aunt’s house in Chalan Pago (an area known for spiritual activity, or at least the village where witch doctors were present), and then headed to UoG for an interview with Leonard Iriarte, one of the leaders of a Chamorro chant group I Fanlalai’an. Prior to showing up for the interview, I had no idea of the group’s history. Little did I know I had already been introduced to them via a tidbit about their method of going about Chamorro, removing the Spanish influence from the language that is, in another interview. That being said, it’s nice to gather a variety of perspectives about local and more global issues occurring here on Guam. Seeing as I’m majoring in history, I like structure, and I need evidence or proof in order to believe or follow something, I was naturally suspicious of what I was being told. But I am aware of my positionality; I have no idea of what needs to be done here, I don’t live here, I don’t speak Chamorro. But what they are doing is quite separate, as he even admitted they could be considered pariahs and a very standalone group. I won’t get into the juicy details, for the sake of brevity, but it was one of my most intriguing interviews for sure. I am excited to follow lines of inquiry I ran into in our discussion, to see where their group goes, and how the public will receive them throughout the course of time.

As for everything else that I typed out but didn’t copy and paste over (sigh), just praying for my Kānaka Maoli and Taíno cousins fighting the good fight. Chamorros are on a completely separate page, dependent, reliant, and very much buying into the “liberation” narrative of the amazing, godly American savior. Tomorrow is Liberation Day in fact, the 75th anniversary. I will be attending the parade to observe, not really out of respect (sorry, more on that later).

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