Wednesday 3 April 2013

SeaWomen (haenyeo): community, politics and change

An exchange between the cultural health psychologist Dr Anne Hilty and the artist Mikhail Karikis

MK: Anne, at the start of this project (SeaWomen), before I even knew there was going to be a project, you created contacts between local Jeju experts and myself, and transmitted to me information and specialist knowledge on the culture of the island and the haenyeo subculture. I am interested in the politics and ethics of generosity, and the trust in sharing knowledge, information and contacts. Working in the field of the arts, which is largely defined by a constant demarcation of who is inside and who outside, I was pleasantly surprised by your attitude. Do you think that this is connected with your profession and area of research? Or might it also have to do with the politics of being a foreigner and the desire to create a sense of community?

AH: I think my eagerness to share knowledge of Jeju and local contacts is certainly related to my position as a foreigner/outsider studying the local culture, although I don't know if it relates to a sense of community – as I am building that with locals themselves. Perhaps more significant is the fact that my background is in psychology, and my cultural heritage American – the former, about freely sharing knowledge and ideas; the latter, an immigration-based culture that tends toward openness to strangers.

MK: I’d like to persist on the subject of community. On Jeju I was introduced to members of a group of women who are educated and have activist and feminist concerns. In fact some of them have good contacts with the haenyeo or research the haenyeo community. How does this community of women relate with that of the haenyeo?  How do other contemporary women on the island (please excuse my generalisation) relate to the older generation of sea-women? Do they interact and in what contexts?
AH: I think that the local feminists, scholars and researchers of women's studies are keenly interested in the haenyeo subculture as a model of 'eco-feminism' – although the haenyeo themselves, strong and independent as they are, would disagree with that label. Generally, however, social strata also come into play, as the haenyeo – while immensely knowledgeable about the marine and agricultural environment – are generally not educated or particularly interested in matters outside of Korea or even Jeju. On this basis, while the educated urban women tend to have great respect for the haenyeo, the two groups don't identify very closely or interact with one another. 

MK:  When I was on Jeju, I noticed that there are polarised perceptions of the haenyeo profession. There is a sense of pride and a distinct professional identity shared by the haenyeo, but many from outside that community greeted my interest in the diving women with amusement or even surprise. Is there a social stigma attached to the haenyeo profession? Why do you think people were amused by my research interest?

AH: Among Jeju people there is a deep awareness of the present 'social (touristic) value' of the haenyeo and the interest of outsiders; the group has been studied, filmed, photographed and written about extensively over the past decade or so. I think that your research was unique, however, in that you were focused on sound; also, as you are a 'Westerner' and male, you aren't the typical researcher. As to social stigma, the haenyeo (as well as fishers and farmers) are doing what's known in Korea as ‘3D’ work (dirty, dangerous, and demeaning), and thus conceptualised as part of the lower, uneducated class of manual labour.

MK: What are your particular interests in the haenyeo community and what role do you assume in relation to their culture, its local and wider context?

AH: From the viewpoint of strong, independent women who in many social and economic ways have led their communities in Jeju, I am interested in their influence on Jeju culture overall. Also, as they were involved in demonstrations for independence from Japanese colonization in the earlier twentieth century, they have had a political role that also interests me. In particular, however, I am concerned with their immense marine knowledge, their status as a dying profession and what that means culturally. It is a commonality among societies which, as they modernise, they lose traditions that bind them in community; to witness this process of change and the delicate balance involved is for me both a privilege in terms of its significance, and a grieving for lost indigenous cultural features and wisdom across the globe.
MK: Could you give a brief description of your activities as a cultural health psychologist and how you employ your skills with regard to the haenyeo subculture?

AH: I am here as a social science researcher with a local cultural organisation. Last year, I wrote nearly a hundred articles and a small book on Jeju culture; this year, I am engaged in extensive field research to expand my knowledge base from one of breadth to depth. Specifically, I am a student in the ‘haenyeo hakgyo’ – women divers' school – to learn firsthand about their profession, and prepare myself for further research into the haenyeo profession and community. I am also trekking around the circumference of Jeju observing and chatting with local folk, including haenyeo, as often as possible. I hope to contribute to the diving women's preservation, and the world's honouring of their knowledge and skill, in whatever ways possible, particularly in light of their historically low position in society.

MK: How do you think art could relate with the haenyeo and vice versa?

AH: Art is such a universal means of communication, evoking emotion and impressions by providing visual and/or audial stimuli. Even more than words and information, I think all the arts have a great role to play in the preservation and/or memorialization of this unique indigenous wisdom and practice.

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