Triton's Call | Volume 51 | Issue 2

IN In Memory of

March 2025

Toni “Malia” Ramirez CHamoru oral historian & Geneologist

TRITON’S CALL

Vol. 51 | Issue 2

LETTER FROM THE

Triton’s Call Team In Guam and all across the Pacific, tradition lives not only in the past- but in motion. It dances in our gatherings, sings through our chants, and speaks in words passed quietly between generations. It’s woven in the clothes we wear, seasoned in the food we eat, and rooted in the lands we walk on. It lingers in memory, and yet still breathes in the present- reshaped by every step we take forward.

This issue is a reflection of that movement. It asks how we honor where we come from while navigating where we’re going. How do we hold on to what grounds us, while still making space for change? What does it mean to live in culture, not just beside it?

The stories held here trace the threads of identity woven through everyday life. They hint at moments of resistance, acts of celebration, and the quiet strength of continuity. Whether through art, language, craft, sound, or space, each piece contributes to a conversation much larger than any single voice.

Tradition is not a fixed point. It’s a current flowing through us, shaped by our hands, our choices, and the stories we choose to tell.

01

Navigating the Stars

02

Beyond the Tourist Lens: The Fight for Pacific Representation in Media

03

Brown People, Brown Spaces

04

Indigenous Fashion

05

The Heart of CHamoru Entrepreneurship: Inafa’maolek and Famalao’an in Business

06

Where the Anvil Still Rings: CHamoru Blacksmithing Through Time

07

More than a Mural

08

Preserving the Past: One Chant at a Time

09

Island Jams: How Music Brings the People of Guam Together

10

Kaddon Pika and the Deep Meaning Behind What We Eat

11

The Ultimate Fiesta Plate

12

The Roots Run Deeper: Palauan Taro Patches in the 21st Century

13

Healing the Land, Healing the People

Navigating the Stars

By Matt Mercado Long before GPS and compasses, master navigators used the stars, ocean currents, and natural signs to sail across the Pacific. For Larry Raigetal, a master navigator from the tiny atoll of Lamotrek, this ancient knowledge has been passed down from generation to generation and is now a way of life.

“This knowledge has been with family for generations,” Raigetal said. “I was born into a family of voyagers who sailed, and I was exposed to it from a very young age.”

Now, as part of the University of Guam’s Island Wisdom program, Raigetal is passing on this knowledge, teaching courses on navigation, canoe building, and traditional seafaring.

Maps in the sky For a navigator, the stars are more than just beautiful lights in the sky– they are a compass.

“The stars tell you directions,” Raigetal explained. “Your prime cardinal directions are set through them. But they aren’t the only thing you use. Ocean currents, birds, and even fish can tell you where you are.”

In his tradition, one of the most important constellations is what Westerners call the Southern Cross. However, in Yap, it’s known as “poop,” which means triggerfish.

“If you’re a fisherman, you’d know the triggerfish is annoying, very obnoxious,” Raigetal said with a laugh.

“But when you’re experiencing famine, that’s the fish you rely on. A lot of our terminology reflects that.”

For Raigetal, navigation is an allencompassing skill where some navigators rely more on waves, others on the stars. He uses both.

At the Mercy of The Ocean However, even the most skilled navigator cannot control the ocean.

Raigetal knows this firsthand; on a voyage 260 miles south of Guam, his canoe flipped.

“We couldn’t flip it back, so we swam for 16 hours until we were picked up by a freighter. The next day, the Coast Guard got us,” Raigetal recalls.

Despite his years of experience, he

remains humble in the face of nature.

“No matter how good you are, the ocean is still more powerful and has the final say.”

Navigation isn’t just about finding a way across the sea, it’s about values.

“It teaches you relationships, not just with people but with your surroundings, it keeps you connected.”-Raigetal That connection is something he wants to preserve, especially as modern influences change island life.

“I can go live in America and adapt, but making those changes come to my island? That’s difficult.”

Looking to the Horizon Raigetal’s work at UOG is part of a larger effort to keep traditional navigation alive. Just two years ago, the first CHamoru Pacific navigator, a woman and professor at UOG, was initiated into his school of navigation.

To this day, Raigetal continues to sail. His last long voyage, from Fiji to the Solomon Islands, covered 1,300 miles. Next month, he’ll be back on the water.

His longest journey? “New Zealand to Micronesia. Four thousand miles. Around 30 days,” he recalled.

When asked what advice he would give to others, Raigetal kept it simple:

“It’s easier to be lost in the ocean or life if you don’t have anything to anchor yourself to. You need to know who you are, where you come from, and your faith.

Otherwise, you’ll be lost.”

Faith and Hope Voyaging is not just about skill and endurance. It is also an act of hope and faith.

“The spiritual aspect of voyaging is very important.

Despite everything you’ve learned, anything can happen. You need to understand that everything leads to God.” Without something to anchor yourself to whether it be faith, culture, or identity, it’s easy to become lost, both at sea and in life.

Reclaiming Culture: The Art of Jerrold Castro and The CHamoru Renaissance

By Elianna Cuevas The Annual Research Conference’s “Tapestries of Resilience: Woven Through Diversity” exhibit on March 7 was filled with different artists from the UOG Fine Arts program whose work is connected by threads that hold the community together through diverse experiences of what it means to live in Guam.

experiencing challenges when educating the Americans about Guam and our precarious position with the United States.

UOG Adjunct Professor and Artist Jerrold Dwayne Castro shared that his takeaway on the exhibit’s theme is inspired by his understanding of the CHamoru culture.

However, his experiences would eventually inspire his “Inafa’måolek” series, or “To Make Good.” While the series was initially influenced by the history behind colonial influences on the CHamoru culture, Castro said “Inafa’måolek” is based on a more personal level.

“I think of the way that CHamorus used to make fabric here on this island, where they made woven mats. I started thinking about the idea of weaving something is just individual strands strengthening together,” Castro explained. “We’re together to create this community that becomes something beautiful and resilient.”

Castro emphasized that every strand represents the different microcultures that make up the island’s larger cultural identity.

Inafa’måolek: To Make Good In his work, Castro always involves CHamoru culture and identity– whether it’s in the context, title, subject, or even the process itself.

His “Inafa’måolek” series helped him realize the resiliency of the CHamoru culture and how it has endured for thousands of years.

On his website, Castro says each painting consists of symbolic poses that bring awareness to the CHamoru people’s desires for selfdetermination, the reclamation of lost practices and willingness to redefine their culture.

Castro said, off-island, not many people know about the culture and relationship Guam has with the United States. During Castro’s military career, he recalled

Many assumed that Castro was not a U.S. citizen or had immigrated, which prompted him to explain Guam and its fraught history and ongoing troubles countless times.

“It’s a message to the rest of America, and the rest of the world, that I’m going through this personal journey of understanding my cultural identity,” he said.

He believes that the colonial influences the CHamoru people have been subjected to for years are what make Guam unique and strong.

Migrations: Hinanao Mo’na Castro felt inspired to explore the CHamoru culture as a whole and the ways it is always evolving–not just across locations, but across time.

To represent the act of reclaiming something that was lost, Castro incorporated the sakman into his work.

“We have CHamorus that are building canoes, outrigger canoes, sailing and learning them. We lost that aspect of our culture and we’ve finally reclaimed it,” Castro explained.

The sakman was the largest and most impressive canoe among the six types the ancient CHamorus built. It was reportedly able to carry around one-hundred men, making

the sakman ideal for long voyages and deep-sea fishing.

Despite the series’ completion, Castro continues to work on pieces from “Inafa’måolek” and “Hinanao Mo’na.”

Although “Hinanao Mo’na” was meant to be a solo exhibition, Castro was unable to gather the collection in it's entirety. However, he recently showcased a three-part artwork from the series at the ARC exhibit.

I Kaiha Tåtte: The Long Way Back After exploring his cultural identity and personal journey in

“Inafa’måolek” and the evolving cultural landscape in “Hinanao Mo’na,” Castro began to look at the CHamoru diaspora for his next series: “I Kaiha Tåtte” or “The Long Way Back.”

“A lot of CHamoru, born and raised here, go out into the world and occasionally come back home to reestablish their roots and get their cultural fix. Then, they go back out again and come back again.”

Castro drew a parallel between the constant back-and-forth to the life of a sea turtle. He explained that sea turtles are born on the beach, explore the ocean throughout their life, but always come back to the same beach to lay their eggs.

He emphasized that for the diaspora, CHamoru culture is a part of them as much as the turtle shell is a part of the haggan (green sea turtle).

An Evolving Process In between “Hinanao Mo’na” and “I Kaiha Tåtte,” Castro’s visual and creative process had evolved, drawing deeper inspiration from CHamoru culture.

Castro describes his process in several steps, starting with a “classical” approach.

He first constructs a painting after involving thorough research, sketching and planning.

Then, he reverses the process and “deconstructs” his painting by breaking down the visuals.

Whether it’s scraping, fogging, blurring or distorting, Castro removes aspects of the subject to “pull it apart.”

One of Jerrold Castro’s paintings in his “Inafa’måolek” series, which represents his journey of self-discovery and the colonial influences present in CHamoru culture. Photo courtesy of Jerrold Castro.

This created a unique threedimensional effect that required viewers to look at from a certain angle to get the full effect of the painting.

“I’ve created this process where I’m approaching things in that way [...] because when you look at the CHamoru culture, it’s literally been pulled apart in so many ways.”

Despite this fragmentation, he believes the most core aspects of the CHamoru culture–our values and our language–remain intact.

“Our traditions have been lost, but [it has been] reclaiming and reconstructing our culture,” he said.

Lalåhi: The Men’s Gathering Together with Dawn Lees Reyes and her team, Castro is curating an upcoming exhibit titled “Lalåhi.”

Featuring around 15 male artists so far, including participants from the ARC exhibit, UOG faculty and offisland artists, the exhibit aims to be an inclusive representation of both the CHamoru and island communities.

“We’re trying to make sure this is a good representation of not just the CHamoru people, but also the community on this island,” he stated.

The exhibit is intended to showcase at the Guam Museum in July.

Final Thoughts Through his art, Jerrold Dwayne Castro explores resilience, evolution and reclamation of CHamoru culture.

This process mirrors the construction and deconstruction of the CHamoru culture itself– constructed for thousands of years before being broken down from hundreds of years of colonization.

From exploring his personal identity, to paying homage and journeying through the cultural landscape, his work serves as a reminder of the strength the community still holds today.

However, he says that the culture is being reconstructed by what he calls a CHamoru Renaissance.

As CHamoru traditions continue to be revived and redefined, Castro’s art stands as a tribute to the past and an inspiring vision for the future.

Castro’s latest series, “Ma’a’atan,” fully represents this deconstruction process. A piece from the series, which was also showcased in the exhibit, was built on several layers of painted plexiglass.

BROWN PEOPLE, BROWN SPACES

By Sia Soleil Taisipic

Reclaiming Micronesian Representation with The Husk

"Brown people, brown spaces." 33-year-old Jasmine Stole Weiss left the newsroom to reclaim Micronesian representation through The Husk, a newsletter that celebrates Micronesians at home and in the diaspora by telling stories left out of the mainstream media.

Born and raised on the island of Guam, Weiss made it her mission to captivate the stories of the people in her community in a positive light. As a Micronesian herself with roots in Palau and Pohnpei, Weiss’s work highlights the importance of meaningful representation in the media.

Telling a New Story In 2021, Weiss made a dramatic career shift to launch her very own The Husk, an online newsletter that aims to showcase the accolades of the Micronesian community to the world. This new career path became her way of reclaiming the narrative around the Micronesian community, who Weiss felt were often portrayed negatively in local media.

The Husk is Weiss’s love letter to the Micronesian people, both at home and in the diaspora. Her newsletter has become a hub for celebrating Micronesian success, showcasing the diverse accomplishments of her community in a place dedicated to celebrating them.

For Weiss, these stories serve as a counter to the often one-dimensional portrayal of her people in local news.

“I write about their small business and their creative outlets, and things that are really cool. I like the idea of writing about them in spaces where we may not really see them before, especially in our local media” Weiss shared.

The Husk gets its name from the symbolic coconut, a lifeline for many islands. Weiss was drawn to the concept of naming her newsletter something meaningful both to her and the community she serves.

“The coconut is such an important part of our culture.

It’s a nod to something that has zsustained us for generations. I also think about the way ‘coconut’ was used as a derogatory term to describe people who weren’t ‘fully’ Micronesian like me, calling someone brown on the outside but white on the inside. I wanted to reclaim that word in a way that celebrates us instead,” she said.

A Journey Through Journalism Weiss did not always set out to become a voice for the Micronesian community, though. Her passion for storytelling and print media shaped her from a young age.

After earning a B.A. in Communication and Media, Weiss jumped into her career as a reporter for the Guam Daily Post, formerly known as Marianas Variety Guam. After a few years, she joined the Pacific Daily News team as a crime reporter for another five years.

But chasing deadlines and her next scoop for local news outlets like the Pacific Daily News and the Guam Daily Post, Weiss realized something was missing.

Weiss felt that her work as a crime reporter was no longer aligned with her personal values. Leaving the newsroom behind was a difficult decision, but it felt necessary for her.

“I don't think I could ever really be so callous to not sympathize with someone going through something really tough. The work I do now is more aligned with my personal constitution and the things I want to exist in the world,” she noted.

Still, Weiss’s work as a reporter for local news outlets was a fruitful experience. She attributes many of her skills as a journalist to her time spent in the newsroom.

Through her service as a reporter, Weiss realized the many benefits of the work she was doing. She learned important skills like meeting deadlines and gathering information daily while also honing existing skills like writing.

“Being on the job taught me how to tell a story out of something that I might not find interesting but I know is important, and really convey that in the stories I tell,” she expressed.

From covering the legislature to community events to crime, Weiss claims it all played a vital role in where she is now in her career.

“Every day was different. One day, I’d be at a budget hearing, and the next, I might be covering something bizarre, like a dead whale in Agat. You learn so much about the community, and no two days are alike” Stole-Weiss recalled.

Building a Legacy Though The Husk is still young, it is Weiss’s hope that its impact will only grow in time.

“I don’t have any concrete evidence of how it’s resonating yet, but my hope is that someone out there, now or in the future, will see someone who looks like them in a space they didn’t think they belonged, and they’ll realize that they can do that too,” she said.

For Weiss, the goal is simple: to uplift her community and show that Micronesians are more than the limited portrayals seen in mainstream media and inspire others to do the same.

“My greatest aspiration is that one person, just one, sees what we’re able to do and thinks, ‘I can do that too, or maybe I can do something even better.’ That would be enough for me.”

You can read more about Weiss’s mission and other related works celebrating Micronesia at https:// thehusk.substack.com/.

Indigenous Fashion

By Matt Mercado

A journey into the world of art and activism is deeply intertwined with Roquin Siongco’s cultural heritage, personal identity and lifelong passion for creation. What started as childhood curiosity transformed into a powerful form of artistic expression, combining past with the present.

A Thread from the Past Siongco’s artistic roots traced back to their grandmother, the eldest of 16 siblings, who learned to sew to help provide for the family.

Growing up under her guidance, Siongco often found inspiration surrounded by sewing machines and fabric, learning the craft from an early age.

Their artistic journey began in a CHamoru class in third grade when Señora Flores taught the art of weaving by demonstrating how to make a grasshopper out of coconut leaves.

“I remember thinking, ‘What…these are just made out of leaves?’ It blew my mind,” Siongco recalled.

They moved to Washington at 12, which made coconut leaves inaccessible. This led to an exploration of other art forms such as origami, different weaving techniques and fashion, which eventually became integral to their creative path.

Art, Identity and Activism As a queer CHamoru artist, an exploration of their identity became a constant part of Siongco’s experience living in the states.

“In Guam, I could be CHamoru, but I had to kind of hide this part of me. In the States, I could be myself but always had to explain, ‘What’s a Guam?’” This experience taught them the importance of being true to yourself and expressing it openly.

Their work embodies the concept of “Artivism,” which is using art as a tool for activism.

“Before I ever used the term [artivism], it was already around. It describes artists whose work is embedded in a political worldview,” Siongco explained.

Each piece addresses cultural identity, colonial history and environmental concerns, encouraging reflection and deep conversation.

Weaving the Past and Future “A lot of our history has been affected by colonialism, so I make it a point to consider what is truly from Guåhan or the Marianas,” Siongco said.

By blending traditional CHamoru techniques with modern materials, their goal was to challenge rigid definitions of authenticity.

“I hate the word ‘authenticity’ because I’m CHamoru—whatever I create, is that not CHamoru? As long as our people see, appreciate, and value it, and see a little bit of themselves in it, I think we’re cool,” Siongco added with a laugh.

Honoring the Past, Creating for the Future Many of Siongco’s works are responses to learning more about CHamoru culture and history. One piece that holds particular significance is “Tai Ulu,” which explored the connection between the living and the dead.

They referred to an ancient traditional ceremony practiced in the past. “Today, that practice has faded. It made me reflect on how weaving, my primary medium, eventually returns to the earth,” Siongco explains.

“Tradition doesn’t lie in the object but in the practice of making it.”

Siongco’s work has been displayed at institutions like the Tacoma Art Museum, the Seattle Washington Museum and the Guam Museum.

Guma’ Gela: A House of Difference In 2018, Siongco co-founded Guma’ Gela, which translates to

“house of difference.”

Initially formed by a group of CHamoru queer artists in Washington state, their collective has since created spaces for artistic expression and cultural dialogue.

“We reclaimed the word ‘difference’ as something positive, reflecting both our CHamoru and queer identities,” Siongco shares.

The Challenges and Rewards of Creation For Siongco, the biggest challenge in the creative process is mindset. “I like to plan things out, but that doesn’t always work. I always say, ‘If you can dream it, we can weave it,’” Siongco says.

Siongco reflects,“I never imagined that playing with leaves as a kid would lead to international exhibits. But every step along the way, I kept an opennd and heart.”

Words of Wisdom Siongco’s advice to aspiring artists is to embrace imperfection. “It’s hard to not be a perfectionist.

When you put your work out there, you don’t always hear the reactions you want. But what we did hear was that our work brought people joy.

So remember the joy,” they said.

For Siongco, art is not just about creation– it’s about connection, history and carving a space where identity and tradition are celebrated.

“Part land, part sea, all ancestry,” Siongco said

The Heart of CHamoru Entrepreneurship: Inafa’maolek and Famalao’an in Business

By Riyo Anne Reyes

It was her family that instilled in Kakas the cultural values that guided her journey as an entrepreneur. She emphasized the importance of perseverance, saying, “Being an entrepreneur takes a lot of self-determination. It takes a lot of resiliency, it takes a lot of passion for yourself.”

She remained committed to her passion despite facing challenges, including during the COVID-19 pandemic. The business grew primarily through social media, allowing her to connect with customers authentically.

Entrepreneurship is more than just business–it is a reflection of cultural values, family and personal identity. For many CHamoru business owners, the foundation of their work is deeply rooted in traditions that have shaped the island for generations.

Two women have built businesses that both celebrate creativity and uphold core CHamoru principles: Tingz by T, embodying inafa’maolek, and Dudus Girl Guam, honoring the strength of famalao’an.

These two values–inafa’maolek, the CHamoru concept of mutual care and reciprocity, and famalao’an, the central role of women in CHamoru society–have shaped how these businesses operate. Through their work, these entrepreneurs are fostering connections, empowering their communities and redefining what it means to be a CHamoru woman in business.

Tingz by T: A Business Rooted in Inafa’maolek Tingz by T started as a hobby in February 2020 when founder Talysa Kakas made a pair of earrings for herself. After receiving interest from her co-workers, the hobby quickly became a

successful jewelry brand with thousands of followers on Instagram.

The business showcases her creative passion while celebrating her CHamoru heritage with the incorporation of cultural symbols and local phrases into her designs.

Kakas’s entrepreneurial journey was deeply influenced by her family, particularly her mother, who inspired her creativity, and her late grandfather, who supported her in making her popup displays.

For Kakas, fostering community and reciprocity are at the heart of everything she does. Her brand has grown into a platform for cultural expression and connection. Inspired by island life and CHamoru heritage, her jewelry and accessories reflect the symbols, language, and nostalgia of Guam. But the spirit of inafa’maolek woven into her designs guides her business in ways that go beyond commerce.

This philosophy is evident in Kakas’s interactions with

customers and her efforts to give back to the island. She frequently donates to local schools, community events, and fundraisers, embodying the CHamoru tradition of generosity without expecting recognition.

“Those are things I don’t advertise,” she said. “Because you know, when you want to do something, just do it—just to be nice, right?

Just to give back.”

Her commitment to inafa’maolek also extends to her engagement with younger generations.

Whenever Kakas does pop-up events at a school’s career fair or for a Mes CHamoru celebration, she often discounts prices for students to encourage them to make independent purchases and learn the value of financial responsibility. For Kakas, this is a way of empowering the youth to have that autonomy over themselves.

Despite the growth of Tingz by T, Kakas still sees it as a passion project rather than a full-time career. Her work as a social worker aligns with her values of service and care, and she continues to balance both roles with a sense of gratitude. Through her business, she hopes to remind others that CHamoru culture isn’t just something to be preserved.

CHamoru culture is something to be lived, shared and passed on through everyday acts of generosity and kindness.

Dudus Girl Guam: Celebrating the Power of Famalao’an As for Celia Anderson’s Dudus Girl Guam, it is more than just a jewelry and accessories brand. The brand is a tribute to the strength and influence of CHamoru women.

Since its launch in 2019, Dudus Girl Guam has dedicated itself to empowering women to embrace their confidence and identity. The concept of famalao’an, which recognizes women as central figures in CHamoru society, has been the driving force behind Anderson’s vision.

Anderson’s entrepreneurial journey first began with Bonita Bath and Body, a soap-making business inspired by Guam’s

culture.

But managing her business and education as a fulltime student at the time was challenging, leading her to close the business. Undeterred by this setback, Anderson pursued a new venture, Dudus Girl Guam.

In addition to running Dudus Girl Guam, Anderson also manages Bonita Baby, her family’s boutique specializing in kid-friendly, CHamoru-inspired products.

Anderson’s biggest inspiration was her mother, who quit her day job to establish Bonita Baby in 2014, one of the first CHamoru children’s boutiques. Watching her mother’s success, Anderson was encouraged to pursue her own business idea. After her mother’s passing in 2022, Anderson’s dedication to continuing her legacy through Bonita Baby and Dudus Girl Guam mattered more than ever.

A defining feature of Dudus Girl Guam is its reclamation of the word “dudus.” Anderson’s brand has transformed this term into something empowering, encouraging women to be confident and unapologetically themselves.

“Dudus to the older generation means showy and flirtatious, like showing off. If you wore gold jewelry or were trying to show your wealth, they’ll call you dudus,” she explains. “But today, a whole younger generation now is saying, ‘She's so dudus, like, yes, we love a dudus girl!’ That’s really what I want Dudus Girl to be: someone who supports you for being dudus instead of making you feel ashamed like I felt when I was younger.”

Anderson also actively incorporates famalao’an into her business by creating opportunities to uplift other women. For Women’s Month, she did a collaboration product with Guam Women’s Chamber of Commerce featuring an exclusive makeup bag that was sold at the Guam Women’s Chamber of Commerce Fanachu Famalao’an event in 2024.

For Anderson, modernizing cultural expression also meant making personal choices about what elements to highlight. While spondylus shells have deep historical significance in CHamoru jewelry, she intentionally decided not to use them in her brand.

“That's one of the reasons why I started Dudus Girl, because I didn't want to wear spondylus or seashells on my ears all the time to represent my culture. I wanted something more modern and sophisticated to wear every day, “ she expressed. “ While my products are not exactly traditional CHamoru jewelry made of spondylus, shells and other materials used back in ancient times, a lot of my styles are still reflections of the culture.”

As for Kakas, authenticity is not about following a rigid set of traditions, but rather about sharing her own cultural experiences: “For me, how I still practice my cultural authenticity within my business is just simply sharing what is raw, what my raw cultural experience is in life and in my childhood while I was growing up within a CHamoru household.”

Through Tingz by T, Kakas brings these personal experiences into her brand, tying the nostalgic feeling of home into her products in ways that feel both familiar and fresh. She draws inspiration from the jewelry her Nana and grandmother wore–gold-round bracelets, layered hoop earrings, and Guam seal necklaces–pieces that once felt like everyday accessories but now serve as symbols of tradition and identity.

Understanding that culture is subjective and deeply personal, Kakas emphasizes that there is no single way to define CHamoru authenticity in the jewelry industry and in general

Take Kaka’s red rice for example. “Some people put onions and some people put bacon, but it’s still red rice. For each individual, that's authentic to them.

That's what they were taught in their culture. That's what their parents taught them, or what their aunties and uncles taught them, so that's authentic to them.”

To further blend authenticity with modern business trends, her social media content reflects the language and tone of her generation by incorporating CHamoru phrases, engaging in casual and relatable interactions, and infusing her personal style into the brand’s voice Encouraging the Next Generation As they continue to grow their businesses, both entrepreneurs hope to inspire other young CHamoru women to pursue their passions and embrace their identities.

Kakas believes the key to success is staying authentic and knowing how to maintain peace in all spaces.

Being true to oneself attracts what is meant for them.

For Anderson, it is about taking that leap of faith.

Under the advisement of her late professor, Dr. Karri Perez at the University of Guam during her college years, Anderson encourages aspiring entrepreneurs to take risks and not fear failure.

Their journeys demonstrate that entrepreneurship in Guam is not solely about profit, but about purpose.

Through inafa’maolek and famalao’an, Kakas and Anderson, along with many others like them, are shaping businesses that reflect their personal stories.

Their efforts inspire a future where CHamoru culture continues to thrive in innovative and meaningful ways.

Where the Anvil Still Rings: Chamoru Blacksmithing Through Time

By Kaitlin Bautista The sound of a hammer on steel once echoed through the Marianas, shaping tools that built villages, cultivated land, and sustained families. Today, that sound is fading and is now replaced by the whirring of machines and mass production. Blacksmithing was once an essential practice for life on Guam, but as years pass and technology advances, these ancient techniques are slowly disappearing. Yet, modern adaptations and passionate artists are working hard to keep this practice alive.

Guam’s last master blacksmith, Francisco Cruz Lizama, dedicated his life to forging not just the tools but a legacy of CHamoru craftsmanship. Now, almost four years after his passing, his son Sean Lizama, carries the weight of that legacy, balancing tradition with the demands of modern life. As an instructor at Guam Community College (GCC) and a videographer, Sean is uniquely positioned between two worlds - one of fire and steel and the other of digital storytelling and education. His story, and the evolution of CHamoru blacksmithing, raises an important question: If an ancient practice adapts to modern technology, is it still the same tradition?

The Role of Blacksmithing in Ancient CHamoru Society Long before iron was introduced to the Marianas, early CHamorus crafted tools from stone, shell, and wood.

When iron arrived through trade and colonization, it changed the way of life for CHamorus, changing the

way they farmed, fished, and even adapted social customs. Blacksmiths, also known as hereru, became essential members of the community. They were responsible for forging machetes, farming tools, and weapons by hand.

Sean Lizama says, "The Spanish introduced blacksmithing to the indigenous CHamoru population as a practical technology essential for food production and village living. Prior to Spanish arrival, CHamoru metalworking was non-existent but the CHamorus knew what metal was and valued it. The Spanish taught blacksmithing for the creation of tools and agricultural equipment. Blacksmiths became crucial community members, teaching and implementing newly learned metalworking skills that transformed daily life. They crafted items like farming tools, kitchen utensils, and basic construction implements that improved food preparation, agricultural productivity, and overall village infrastructure."

The craft wasn’t just about function, but about identity. A well-made and worn machete was a source of pride and hard work and was often passed down through generations.

Traditional vs. Modern Blacksmithing: What’s Changed?

When the Spanish arrived, CHamoru blacksmiths shifted to work with fire, hammer, and anvils.

Francisco Lizama was one of the last to practice blacksmithing in this way, forging every blade by hand without the aid of modern machinery.

But today, the tools of this trade are different. Most machetes and knives used in Guam are massproduced in factories overseas. Yet, does this shift

mean blacksmithing itself is disappearing? Or is it simply evolving? We still forge by hand when we can, but technology allows us to streamline certain parts of the process. The question is: At what point does it stop being blacksmithing and become something else?

Lizama supports, "The industrial revolution fundamentally changed blacksmithing's role in society worldwide. Mass manufacturing flooded the market with cheap, quickly produced tools, dramatically reducing the need for traditional blacksmithing. What was once a critical skill and profession became marginalized, forcing the craft to transition from a utilitarian practice to a form of cultural preservation. Collectors, cultural enthusiasts, and tradition-keepers became the primary supporters of this craft, ensuring its survival through appreciation rather than pure economic demand."

Adapting Tradition to Fit a Modern World Unlike his father, Sean does not blacksmith full-time.

His career in education and videography reflects the reality many modern craftsmen face, balancing passion with practicality. Younger generation’s relationship with blacksmithing is also changing.

While few pursue it as a living, others are drawn to it for its craftsmanship, artistry, and connection to heritage.

Some aspects of the craft have already adapted. While traditional forging methods remain important, blacksmiths today incorporate modern tools like belt grinders, power hammers, and industrial forges.

"Maintaining traditional crafts like blacksmithing in today’s society requires a ton of effort and commitment. I, like many other traditional practitioners, focus on preserving our craft through education, cultural demonstrations, and artistic expression. Holding workshops, participating in cultural festivals, and getting educational grants have become crucial platforms for keeping the cultural practices alive," Lizama shared.

What Defines Tradition?At the heart of the discussion is the question: Does modernization change the essence of a tradition? If a machete is still used in farming, but it’s made in a factory rather than a forge, is it still a CHamoru tool?

The same could be said for blacksmithing today. As techniques shift, the essence of the craft – problemsolving, creation, and identity– remains. The key is intention.

"The survival of cultural practices depends on their ability to adapt while maintaining core principles.

CHamoru blacksmithing exemplifies this by allowing each generation to add its unique perspective and creative interpretation. The craft's essence remains intact not through rigid preservation, but through a continuous thread of skill transmission and cultural pride. By embracing change while honoring fundamental techniques and cultural significance, blacksmithing remains a dynamic expression of CHamoru identity, proving that tradition can evolve without losing its fundamental spirit."

The Future of CHamoru Craftsmanship While fewer people practice blacksmithing today, its legacy is far from lost. Sean and others like him continue to keep the fire burning, whether through forging, education, or storytelling. The craft may look different in the modern world, but its significance endures.

So, can a cultural practice change without losing its soul? If the tools remain but the hands that shape them change, is the craft still considered traditional?

These are the questions that many navigate when tradition meets innovation.

The answer lies in the hands of those who continue it.

As long as the tools stay and the stories are passed down, the tradition, however it may evolve, will never truly disappear.

Inside Guam Memorial Hospital, a vibrant mural now adorns a wall of the pediatric ward’s playroom, offering a visual journey through Guam’s villages, culture, and island life. The artist behind it, Maria Sol Marques, took on the project as an artistic challenge and an opportunity to represent the island’s identity in a way that felt authentic and personal.

For Marques, a sophomore studying integrative biology with a minor in art and CHamoru studies at the University of Guam, the mural was an opportunity to tell the story of Guam through imagery that is meaningful to her and the island’s people.

Island Roots to Artistic Truths Though born in Michigan, Marques’ CHamoru roots run deep, and she credits her formative years on the island as shaping her worldview and art, a time when she began developing her craft.

As she matured as an artist, her work naturally started to reflect the world she grew up in particularly from the perspective of young girls moving through familiar island spaces.

Aesthetically, her art started to include lots of plant life and architectural elements from Guam. The way the buildings’ structure and the abundance of tropical plants left a strong impression on her. She tries to recreate that same warm, natural,

nostalgic atmosphere in her work - one that mirrors the environment she grew up in. She captures this feeling through lush plants, warm tones and youthful perspectives.

Marques emphasizes the importance of lived experience in portraying Guam. As a CHamoru artist, she feels a responsibility to reflect not just the island’s beauty, but also its environmental and political struggles, especially the impact of militarization. Her goal is to create imagery that feels authentic to those who share that lived reality.

That sense of place is evident in every detail of her mural. With each village she paints, she embeds distinct references to its people, stories, and symbols.

Painting Guam with Purpose Commissioned by Bringing Color to Healing and funded through a grant from the Guam Council on the Arts and Humanities Agency, the project offered Marques a choice between creating a map of Guam or an ocean scavenger hunt.

Originally, Marques planned to do the ocean scavenger hunt because it seemed easier.

However, she felt a strong pull toward creating the Guam map, even though it intimidated her.

Since Guam is such a small island, every decision - like which places to include or which plants to paint - carried more weight. The limited space meant she had to be intentional and selective with

More than a Mural

By Riyo Anne Reyes

what she highlighted.

“As a CHamoru person and someone who has so much family here, I know that there’s a lot of things that people would feel very deeply about that kind of mural,” she said.

“I was ready to take on something more difficult like that,” she added.

“I decided last minute to take that one, just because I felt like I would learn a lot. It would help me grow a lot as an artist.”

Marques approached the mural project with a strong sense of community involvement.

To decide what to paint in each village, she reached out to others – posting on Instagram, talking to friends from specific villages, and consulting with her parents, elders, and other family members.

She wanted the mural to reflect her memories, shared experiences, and elements that were meaningful across generations.

Her goal was to highlight parts of Guam with lasting significance, especially things that children and elders alike would recognize.

While she painted the mural herself, the ideas and inspiration came from many voices within the community.

With every landmark, she paints the very soul of CHamoru culture captured by traditional tools like the kamyu, a coconut grater representing ancestral knowledge and the CHamoru’s way of using nature. The Sakman, a traditional

canoe, symbolizes the navigation and seafaring traditions that defined early CHamoru society.

Around the neck of a painted carabao, she places a Sinahi necklace - a traditional crescentshaped adornment made from hima shells - as a marker of identity that bridges past and present.

Her mural also captures everyday culture, featuring pickled jars of mango, papaya, and eggs, an empanada, and a musubi from local mom-and-pop stores that reflect the daily flavors of life in Guam.

Landmarks that tell Guam’s story Beyond the flora and fauna, Marques’ mural is grounded in the island’s layered history. It is visible through the sacred sites, colonial relics, and places of cultural memory she chose to represent in each village. These aren’t just landmarks but living symbols of survival, resistance and identity.

She painted Fouha Rock in Inalåhan, the mythological site where the CHamoru people are said to have been created. She also included tao symbols showing people approaching the rock, symbolizing the emergence of life, and connecting the mural to CHamoru creation stories.

For Yigo, Mt. Santa Rosa is illustrated as a place once a last stand for CHamoru resistance during the Spanish-CHamoru wars.

Catholic churches anchor each village throughout the map, including Our Lady of Lourdes in Yigo, Santa Barbara in Dededo, St. Francis of Assisi in Yona, St. Joseph in Inalåhan, and San Dionisio in Humåtak. Many churches were added to the mural as Catholicism is important to a lot of cultural communities in Guam, according to Marques.

For Hagåtña, she painted Senator Angel Leon Guerrero Santos Latte Stone Memorial Park, home to Guam’s latte stones, which symbolize strength and ancestral

foundation. Near it sits the San Antonio Bridge, a Spanish-era relic.

Other colonial remnants, like the bell tower in Malesso’ and Fort Soledad in Humåtak also made quiet appearances in the mural.

She also included lesser-known sites like the Japanese Peace Memorial in Yigo, a post-war monument that her grandmother helped her identify, and the pictographs from Gadao’s Cave in Inalåhan. For Talo’fo’fo’, Marques included a carved stone figure based on a cave artifact referencing Guam’s disrupted archaeological history.

To Marques, these pictographs are more than historical artifacts.

They’re a form of CHamoru art, storytelling, and identity. By referencing them in her modern mural, she feels a kind of poetic continuity - a full-circle moment connecting her work as a CHamoru artist today to the island’s ancestral artists who painted on cave walls long ago. It’s a way of honoring that lineage and showing that CHamoru's creativity and expression are still alive, evolving, and rooted in the same cultural foundation.

She also illustrates everyday places, including the Micronesia Mall logo, a shaved ice from a shop she remembers from childhood in Dededo, and a road surrounded by Pågo flowers in Chalan PagoOrdot as a tribute to how the village got its name.

Restricted Space, Quiet Resistance Unlike the rest of the mural, which bursts with color and life, the U.S. military installations are painted flat gray. Painting these areas gray and including fencing was a practical and symbolic choice.

Marques explained that she didn’t know what to paint there because she didn’t go into those areas.

Growing up in Guam, she remembers sitting in the backseat of a car, peering out the window at fenced-off fields and wondering what lay behind them. Children, she notes, don’t grasp the history of colonialism or the political

implications of the military industrial complex - they just see the fences, the same way she did as a kid.

By including the imagery of fences in her mural, Marques highlights the reality of being physically and symbolically cut from the land many CHamorus can no longer access.

“I have this fencing here because I think that image itself - just of the fence - is a powerful statement,” she said. “Like, this is what you are deliberately blocked out of.”

In one part of the area, a military base sign appeared to be graffitied over with the phrase “Fanohge para tano’ta” which means “Stand up for our land” in CHamoru. It’s a quiet act of resistance, tucked into the mural like a subliminal message. “It’s kind of like a tiny radical subliminal,” Marques said.

The phrase reclaims space and reflects her aim to embed empowerment and cultural pride, even in the smallest details.

Nature with Intention Nature in the mural is more than background - it’s storytelling. As a biology student and artist, Marques sees plants not just as symbols of life, but as carriers of memory, culture, and language.

Many of the plants are tied to the CHamoru language, with words framing the mural rather than appearing on the island itself.

“I also feel like language goes into everything,” she said. “It's like when you describe anything, there's a particular word that's being used to describe it, and I think that as somebody with a background in plants, because I’m a biology major, noticing the different CHamoru and English words for plants can change how you perceive the plants.”

She said that many plants in CHamoru tend to have names like jokes based on how the plant looks or where it grows.

She gives the example of Pugua Machena, a type of fern named because it tends to grow on pugua

(betel nut) trees, and explains, “So when you call it that in CHamoru, in a way, it's like a mnemonic device where it helps you remember where you would find it. But then if you call it Devallia Fern, one of the common English names, or rabbit's foot fern, you wouldn't have that same cultural context of ‘Oh, it grows up in this tree a lot’.”

In the mural’s north, she painted the Gaosåli, a flower found only in the Marianas. Its roots are shown shriveling in military zones but regrowing outside of them - a metaphor for cultural survival after colonization. Near it, a Nunu tree (banyan) symbolizes ancestral spirits and spiritual respect, sacred in CHamoru culture and other regions like Thailand, the Philippines, and India.

For Tumon, Marques painted a bright Puti tai Nobiu to represent how the plant was introduced to make Guam more visually appealing for tourists. She explains that the plant harms native species just as tourism can harm the island by prioritizing appearances for outsiders at the expense of local well-being. It glosses over the real struggles Guam faces. In this part of the mural, a stream of blood flows from the plant’s thorns into Hagåtña, symbolizing the unseen pain beneath the glossy image of paradise.

Scattered throughout the mural are other meaningful plants, including the Lodigao - a bitter medicinal herb that symbolizes healing through hard truths.

Marques uses it to reference difficult topics such as the military presence and the impact of colonialism in Guam.

She also included cycads, which are native to the island and scientifically significant, placing them in Mangilao, where much of the research on the plant is actively studied. In villages like Chalan Pago-Ordot, Mangilao, and Yona, she painted donne’ (red pepper), calamansi, mango, bananas, breadfruit (lemmai), and the Pågo flower - each tied to

CHamoru traditions and shared island life with other cultures.

Some plants are deeply personal, like the gardenia Marques included in the Mongmong-TotoMaite area for her grandmother, who lives in the village and grows them. Other personal touches include the Ylang Ylang plant and the purple Alaihai-tåsi (beach morning glory) plant in Inalåhan.

Beyond the Brush For Marques, the mural isn’t about permanence or personal recognition - it’s about the children who will spend time in the hospital where it’s displayed and the people who will see this mural every day.

“It might be there for ten years, 15 if I’m lucky,” she said. “But for the time being, there’s going to be a lot of kids that will be in there for a long time.” Marques hopes the mural brings comfort and familiarity to those who need it most.

When asked what advice she’d give to artists who want to create art in public or healing spaces, she encourages emerging artists to stay authentic to their vision, and to seek out opportunities rather than wait for them to appear.

She acknowledges that getting started - especially in Guam - can feel discouraging, but emphasizes that grants, public art programs, and community spaces are ready to support artists.

“People aren’t going to just come to you and hire you. It just does not work like that,” she said. With this, she further stresses the importance of engaging with people and applying for grants.

Above all, Marques urges artists not to compromise their creative voice to please others. “Make the art you want to make,” she said.

“The people who like it are going to find you in that way.” Whether creating political work or simply something that brings joy, she believes fulfillment comes from staying true to why you make art in the first place.

PRESERVING T One Chant at a Time

By Kiara Mel Aguon Cultural dance or chants are powerful expressions in the Pacific Islander community. Chanting has been used to tell stories and pass down our histories from one generation to the next. It is a tradition that continues in spite of centuries of colonization and occupation. Traditional chants are more than performances, they are living histories.

Early documentation of cultural chant dates back to 1602 when missionary Fray Juan Pobre described the types of chants he observed during his stay in Rota.

Women would chant prior to burials – asking the spirit why they left family, fishing spear, canoe and more behind.

In Daughters of the Island, Laura Marie Torres Souder and Dr. Bernadita Camacho Dungca suggest that women carried on chanting during the Spanish colonial period. The nobenas heard today are greatly influenced by the ancient CHamoru chanting.

Jesse “Tåno” Rivera was one of the first contemporary chanters in the 1990s and helped revive the practice.

He would proudly proclaim, “Guahu Taotao Tåno!” before beginning his chants, later becoming the official chanter for opening ceremonies.

The Festival of Pacific Arts and Culture, held in June 2024 after a hiatus due to the COVID-19 pandemic, is the world’s largest celebration of Indigenous Pacific Islander culture and language. Caleb “Hinasso” Cruz is one cultural performer who had the honor of representing Guam through transformative performances at the event.

His interest in chant and dance began at the 2016 FESTPAC closing ceremony.

“Often looking back to my time as a spectator in that audience, bright-eyed and wishing nothing more than to be on that stage to share in the experience of perpetuating the culture that raised me to the world with my brothers and sisters,” Cruz said.

Being a part of the Guam Performing Arts delegation for the 2024 FESTPAC was an extraordinary experience for him.

“When Guam was introduced during the opening ceremony, I was overtaken by a sense of bliss as the delegation marched out onto the center stage. That

moment was the first time I truly felt I was part of a much bigger mission on a grander scale than I could have ever imagined it to be.”

For Cruz, chanting is more than an artistic expression.

It is a personal connection to his heritage and identity.

Cruz reflects, “CHamoru performing arts has given me an outlet to express my love and passion for the culture that raised me since youth, as well as an avenue to both learn more about the story of my people, and finally to teach others about our history and way of life.”

Other than FESTPAC, one performance felt transformative to his identity as a cultural dancer, which occurred during a cultural exchange program in 2018 in Japan as a small delegation group to 3 Junior High Institutions.

“At this point, I had not understood the reach that CHamoru cultural arts had throughout the world, let alone to be invited by a Japanese high school as the showcase piece of CHamoru culture during their culture celebration,” Cruz said.

During his time co-teaching middle schoolers, he believes that he has a sense of responsibility in teaching and preserving the significance of chants.

“I realize that the arts serve as the gateway to the culture for the younger ones interested in learning more about CHamoru holistically. The future generations will be the ones we look toward when we and previous generations are ready to pass on the proverbial torch.”

For fellow cultural dancer, Cameron San Agustin, what began as an after-school activity with her friends grew into a lifelong passion.

“Although most of them have moved on, I stayed because it's become so much more than just an afterschool activity. Chant has become a way for me to stay connected to my CHamoru culture, while also giving me an outlet to express and celebrate who we are.

Being surrounded by people who are so knowledgeable and passionate about our traditions and history only deepens my love for it. It pushes me to keep learning, growing, and sharing our culture with others.”

THE PAST Representing Guam during the 2024 FestPAC was a great honor for San Agustin. “Being able to share a piece of my home with so many people from across the Pacific and beyond was an unforgettable experience. There was something so special about standing with my fellow dancers and showcasing our culture through dance and chant. I felt such a deep sense of pride and connection. It reminded me why I do this—to keep our traditions alive and to share the beauty of our culture with the world.”

There was one FestPAC performance that gave San Agustin chills.

“During that performance, we incorporated dancers from the other Mariana Islands, and in that moment, I realized that being a dancer is about more than just technique—it's about connection, purpose, and responsibility. Seeing us move together as one, despite the distance between our islands, reinforced that dance is a powerful way to preserve and share our culture. That experience transformed how I see myself as a dancer-not just as a performer, but as someone with a role in keeping our traditions alive.

One of her takeaways from performing at FESTPAC was that what they do now will shape the future of our culture.

“Chant and dance aren't just for us, they're for the generations that will come after. I feel a deep responsibility to keep learning, growing, and sharing these traditions so that they don't fade away. It's not just about preserving the past, but making sure our culture continues to evolve and thrive.

ISLAND JAMS How Music Brings the People Together

By Aidan Cacapit

Music is Everywhere!

Music is always present in our daily lives, whether on television, the radio or social media–you name it!

It is everywhere and each selection of music is placed to create a meaning or a purpose. For CHamorus, that meaning and purpose lies in how music creates unity and brings together families, friends, and entire communities on Guam.

Music in the CHamoru culture plays an influential role to entertain, express culture and preserve traditions. For CHamorus, music is most commonly used to tell stories and create an uplifting, empathetic and soulful feeling.

The Role Music Plays In Our Community Music also serves as a base of diversity and unity that brings people, families and communities together. To kick off an island-wide celebration of Mes CHamoru, Mayor Johnny A. Quinata’s festival grounds showcased CHamoru culture, heritage and traditions open to the public. The celebration featured music, games, food, and demonstrations that highlighted Humåtak’s beauty to not only residents, but to tourists as well.

The concert scene on Guam also plays a vital role in bringing together music lovers and strengthening the local community. In October 2024, many people attended the concert hosted

by Håfaloha Concert Series, headlined

by Hawaiian reggae musical group Kolohe Kai. Fans enjoyed the overall vibe and expressed their positive experience through YouTube and TikTok. Guam is home to many talented musicians and iconic artists who play a vital role in the island’s music industry.

Among these artists are J.D. Crutch and Johnny Sablan, both CHamoru musicians whose music reflects themes of love, family and the unique island life of Guam.

In 1977, J.D. Crutch collaborated with Tugboat, Chuck McJohn, Frank Reyes, and Joe Cunningham on the “Marianas Homegrown” album. The group performed in front of 8,000 fans, successfully impressing and exciting the audience with their music.

Johnny Sablan, another key figure in the CHamoru music industry, has also been fundamental in shaping Guam’s music community. His 1986 album “Dalai Nene” became the first commercially recorded CHamoru album.

Sablan received many accolades over the span of five decades, including “Island Icon of 2011.”

1. Let’s Do It Again by J Boog Released in 2010, this song is from the album “Backyard Boogie.”

Jerry Fealofani Afemata, professionally known as J Boog, is an American-Samoan singer and songwriter whose main genre is reggae hip-hop/rap.

The song was so influential that it inspired local singer Pia Mia to incorporate and sample J Boog’s “Let’s Do It Again.” Pia Mia’s version features popular artists Chris Brown and Tyga and was released in May 2015.

According to Pia Mia, she encountered the song when J Boog performed it on Guam in 2011. Pia Mia and her team decided to piece together the new song in 2014, further empowering other local artists like CLAWWWD, The John Dank Show, STRAIGHTUPJED and many others to sing and express their love for the island and its culture.

2. Cool Down by Kolohe Kai Released in 2010, this song is from the album “This Is The Life” by Kolohe Kai. Imagine you are on the beach, enjoying the sand on your toes and the water swaying back and forth as the sun gleams down on you.

On top of that, think of the smell of BBQ roasting on a grill as the fire intensifies. This is what I imagine when I think of this song: A beachy, fun vibe.

I heard this song for the first time when I was 13, at the beach having an old-fashioned BBQ cookout with my family and my cousins. I remember this song playing, not wanting to skip it so I could listen and appreciate the rhythm and lyrics.

Even now, I cannot help but bop my head to the drums and the ukulele as they accompany each other very well. This song gives off pure soul and captures that unique island vibe!

3. Sweet Darlin by Fiji Released in 1996, this song is from the album “Born & Raised” by Fiji. The song is composed by Edward Struzick and performed by George Brooks Veikoso, AKA Fiji, with his main genre being reggae hip-hop/rap.

I first heard this song in middle school when it was played for Gupot CHamoru. I remember hearing it and instantly becoming hooked by its easy-to-remember lyrics and catchy melody. I recall many other students singing along and dancing to the song.

Without a doubt, this is a song that I can sing any day and anytime!

Kadun Pika

and the Deep Meaning Behind What We Eat

By Aidan Cacapit My Experiences with Kådun Pika When I was little, I went to countless parties with my family and there were only a few things I liked: the toys inside of the house and the sodas. But my absolute favorite part about these parties was the food each family brought.

The table is typically filled with various foods and desserts, but one dish stood out from the rest— the Kådun Pika. I got my plate and hot rice, then poured a generous (maybe a little too generous) amount of Kådun Pika over it.

When I tried it, the flavor felt like a heavenly experience with a kick of pepper. The mix of textures and tastes from the chicken, soy sauce and vegetables hit every note I was hoping for, and I still wanted more even after going back for seconds.

I was not the only one who felt that sentiment. It turns out that everyone who tried the Kådun Pika that night filled their Tupperware containers with what was left. From that moment on, I fell in love with the dish and learned to make it for my family at home.

The Deeper Meaning: Community Unity in Parties Food often sets the tone at any gathering, sparking conversation and connection from the moment people arrive. On Guam, sharing a meal means sharing part of who you are.

Gathering around the table creates space for stories, laughter and shared memory. In these moments, food becomes more than a meal.

Foods like Kådun Pika reflect the cultural significance of sharing a

meal as it both satisfies our hunger and bring people together. But what stands out to me is the effort poured into the pot and what makes Kådun Pika, Kådun Pika.

What does Kådun Pika mean?

The term “kådun” (sometimes spelled “kådon”) comes from the CHamoru word “kådu” which means soup, stew or broth. “Pika” translates to spicy or something that contains a lot of spice.

Together, it means “spicy stew.”

Its main takeaway is the “donne’” or the pepper that adds spice with the combined tastes and aromas of the herbs all mixed in together.

This dish is not an original delicacy.

Kådun Pika’s fiery and delectable taste is similar to the Philippines’ chicken adobo, but what separates them between the three is the donne’ that enhances its savory flavor!

Kådun Pika may not be unique to Guam in origin, but the local twist—thanks to the heat of donne’—makes it a standout favorite at island gatherings. If you're ready to try making it yourself, here's what you'll need to get started.

Ingredients To prepare this dish, you need a large saucepan and patience, as this dish is timeconsuming to prepare. But the end product will not disappoint you!

1 whole chicken (preferably for stewing) ½ cup soy sauce ¼ cup white vinegar 1 whole onion, sliced 1 whole garlic, diced 2 teaspoons black pepper 2 teaspoons Tabasco pepper sauce 8 chili peppers, chopped Directions 1. Chop the chicken into small bits and pieces. Drumsticks also work well. Put your chicken in a soup pan under medium heat.

2. Add the onions and garlic into the pot and cook for about 5-10 minutes on medium heat. Cook until it turns slightly brown.

3. Combine all the remaining ingredients into the pot and let it simmer on medium-low heat for about 30 minutes, or until the chicken is cooked.

4. Mix after 30 minutes. You can adjust the taste to your liking by adding more soy sauce, black pepper, Tabasco sauce or any other seasoning if necessary.

5. Serve with a cup of white rice and add donne’ pepper and enjoy!

The Heart of the Plate: Rice and Meat At the center of any great fiesta plate is, of course, rice. While many variations of rice could be served, red rice is undoubtedly the star of the show. This dish is not only iconic but represents the island’s vibrant history and culture. The rice, colored with achote seeds, carries a subtle smokiness and mild spice that elevates everything it touches. It serves as the foundation of the meal—delicious, colorful, and full of flavor.

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No fiesta plate is complete without a side dish that enhances the meal’s flavors.

Guam’s salads are often simple, yet they bring freshness and balance to the plate. Macaroni and potato salad are the go-to choices for most fiestas, adding that creamy, savory touch to the meal. These side salads are often made with mayo, relish, and sometimes, a dash of mustard for a tangy kick. They help cut through the richness of the meats and give your taste buds a well-needed break.

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Many enthusiasts will claim that they could take a shot of finadene or vinegar.

Honestly, at this point, it might as well be considered a rite of passage.

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The Sidekick: Salad

This is a simple, flavorful sauce made with soy sauce, vinegar, chopped onions, and hot peppers. There are two types of finadene: white finadene and regular finadene. White finadene, which leans more on the vinegar side, is a great complement to fresh seafood and salads. Regular finadene, with its balance of soy sauce and vinegar, is the perfect companion for grilled meats and red rice. It's a flavor enhancer that ties everything together, giving each dish the extra zing it needs to be truly special.

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Alongside the rice, you'll find a selection of meats.

Barbecued chicken, pork, and sometimes beef are the common crowdpleasers. The marinated meat, slowcooked to perfection, offers that familiar sweet, savory balance that defines so much of Guam’s cuisine. And let’s not forget the keleguen— a quintessential fiesta dish in itself.

Flavor Enhancer: Finadene

Fiesta Staple: s er g Keleguen o aR m Keleguen is a Chamorro dish l e

By Th that reflects the island’s love for vibrant, bold flavors. It’s typically made with chicken, pork, beef, or shrimp mixed with lemons, onions, and a combination of hot peppers.

Some of the best beef keleguen I had was the perfect balance of sour and spicy. It was made with lemon but without heat during the cooking process. The lemon marinated the beef, making it incredibly tender and giving it a refreshing zest. Everyone's barbeque marinades were unique, but they all featured that classic sweet and savory combination synonymous with Guam's taste.

THE ROOTS RUN DEEPER The Role of Palauan Taro Patches in the 21st Century

By Alayna Alonz

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alauan taro patches serve not only to feed us but as a source of nostalgia, community, and a symbol of food sovereignty.

Saturday afternoons for my 14 year old self usually meant time to relax, chat online with the friends I made at the high school I just entered a few months earlier, or to catch up with the new academic standards. However, in between the homework and the new environment, Saturday afternoons occasionally meant a trip to the mesei.

My family’s mesei, or taro patch, was located in Ngemelachel, a quiet island that houses the port, one of the island’s power plants, and is often thought of as Koror’s “industrial area.” It was up a hill far away from the rush and bustle of downtown Koror. Other than the occasional crows of chickens or hum of the bugs, there was a spectacular sunset at the top of this hill.

After weaving through the long grass and the patches that belonged to other families, my cousins and I often played in these fields or helped the adults pull diokang, or tapioca, out of the dirt. Their roots grow deep in the ground, and I often fall on my back in the dirt if I let go too early.

There were also activities by my own high school where all girls had to learn to cook the taro and tapioca from start to finish.

A full day of cooking really meant a whole day to sit in a circle with my friends and to tell stories and even gossip over peeling taro, washing the dirt off, and to sit in front of a fire and throw wood in so it does not die out.

If my parents did not have the time to harvest or cook the taro, which can often take a full day, we would all go to the local markets, or makit to get ready-to-peel taro and to catch up with the old ladies, who were often related to us anyway.

With all these experiences, I have come to realize not only the practical knowledge of harvesting and preparation but the power that food has itself. Food represents much more than a means of survival, but a way to connect with others through a tradition as old as time.

Food has always served as a foundation of society, and the activity of hunting and foraging not only ensured a meal to be sustained with but an opportunity to foster a deeper connection with others and ultimately define our own culture.

Cultivating taro is physically labor intensive, and preparing taro to be edible is a time-consuming and delicate process that is based on several factors such as the size of the plant harvested as well as knowledge of how long that plant has sat underground.

The discipline, attention to detail, and concern for others is not just a characteristic that defines the women who maintain these farms, but also values of the Palauan culture.

Even with these traditions once being passed down orally and are now able to be documented with modern technology, these precious traditions face the threat of extinction.

One of the biggest issues that taro patches face is the threat of climate change.

As global temperatures rise, plants become more stressed and water becomes more difficult to gather, the result is a higher chance of crop failure. Moving away from where water to come by may not be of so much help, as unusual weather patterns can erode coastal areas deeming them unfit to plant taro.

In addition to taro harvesting becoming difficult due to global warming, the automation of food production sparks a larger conversation of the role of these traditions if there are “better” or more convenient options available.

In a world where food can be mass produced in metric tons in the blink of an eye and sold for cheap at the nearest grocery store, the most convenient option seems like the most enticing.

The introduction of Western food has brought over American ideals to our islands. Canned dishes, instant food that can be served right after a few minutes in the microwave, and food that prioritizes flavor and marketing appeal over nutritional value exemplified the convenience and flashiness that conflicts with the island’s simplicity and modesty.

With American influence even seeping into something as crucial as our diets, the usage of traditional methods in spite of industrialized food production can be seen as a resistance to Western values and a testament to our right to food sovereignty.

Food sovereignty refers to our right to access healthy and culturally appropriate food produced sustainably.

The ability to establish our own food systems, even with something as simple as taro, grants incredible power to us Micronesians and allows us to not only to reclaim parts of our culture we may have lost to colonization but to practically practice our culture in a sustainable way.

For example, traditional food production in Palau is not selfish, Palauans harvest what is needed and even with a surplus, is often shared with extended family or sold. A major tenet of the Palauan culture is respect, not only for other people but for the land that sustains us.

In the age of automation and efficiency, food can be mass produced by machines in excess,

not only generating massive amounts of waste, but severing a tie between humans and food.

Food holds the power to bring people together, pass along not only skills needed to curate a good harvest but to unite people, whether in survival or to bond as friends and family but now for the sake of resistance and sovereignty.

Food is not only a form of sustenance, but a reflection of cultural experiences, fond memories, and one of the most important social experiences one could encounter. Uniting in the labor of harvesting, of preparing, cooking, and the joy of eating together is arguably one of life’s most crucial experiences.

Healing the Land, Healing the People.

By Kyeisha Camacho

Our island and our culture face threats to erase generations of indigenous knowledge, practices and traditions. But it’s our right to stand for what we believe and to ensure these traditions don’t vanish within the next two generations.

For over 4,000 yeaars, indigenous healing traditions have been an essential part of the CHamoru culture of the Mariana Islands.

Historical records indicate the practice of natural medicine for more than 500 years ago, with healers using local herbal plants.

But as Western modernity meets CHamoru tradition, the balance begins to shift. What was once passed down through generations now faces the risk of being left behind.

Haya Cultural Heritage and Preservation Foundation Guma' Yo Amte (House of Healers), created by an organization called the Haya Foundation, is Guam's first Indigenous Healing Center and seeks to educate the community about indigenous healing traditions in a fight to preserve our heritage.

With the passing of many healers, there is a risk of losing vital knowledge for the CHamoru Culture.

To prevent this risk, Haya has actively worked to educate and inform the community through various initiatives, including conducting presentations at schools and conferences and sponsoring workshops to teach traditional healing methods.

Haya has even used media to reach larger audiences, producing three documentaries focused on CHamoru medicine to promote awareness and preservation. These efforts ensure that knowledge is both preserved and able to thrive in a modern world.

For the President and Founder of Haya Foundation Zita Pangelinan, access to traditional knowledge and practices is crucial in CHamoru preservation efforts. They created the program to help many people learn and carry on the traditions of local and herbal healing.

“Haya Foundation realized the risk of losing this tradition with the passing of so many healers. For this reason, we took every opportunity to present traditional healing,” Pangelinan said.

But the loss of many healers is not the only threat we face. Modern medicine also threatens the livelihood of traditional healing practices. Without demand, healers lose their practice.

“What’s at risk? many NATURAL ways of healing people physically, mentally, spiritually and emotionally with no ‘side effects’” Pangelinan said.

Pangelinan also mentioned that healers heal out of the desire to help and without a fee. In return, people who are healed reciprocate and give ways to take care of healers.

“We have so many people who can’t afford health care. Costs are not a factor for our traditional healers.”

Pangelinan added.

It is disheartening that something as essential as healthcare can come at such a high financial cost. Traditional healing provides a remedy to these challenges, ensuring that people receive care without financial burdens.

CHamoru Healing Wisdom Haya Foundation conducts outreach events to help educate the community on its mission. And on March 23, 2025, I attended an event hosted by Haya Foundation and The Coconut Tree Company.

There were booths for you to view the plants used in the herbal medicine and the story of Ms. Rosalia Mateo, also known as Mama Chai, one of the island’s most revered yo’åmte. With her knowledge, she continues to pass

down healing traditions to the future generations of her family.

Marleen Bautista, Mama Chai’s granddaughter, has been learning from her grandmother since she was young.

In January, Mama Chai’s daughter Frances Mateo joined. They both assist with going out and picking the herbal plants and create the herbal medicine for when they have appointments coming up.

“I just started this January, but I have learned how to make the medicines.

She does the massages as I prepare the medicines for her. And whenever she is going to amte, I go out and pick it for her,” Mateo said.

The family expressed their gratitude for the opportunity to learn from Mama Chai, especially Mateo. She hopes to keep learning and gain as much knowledge as possible from her mom, so she can pass it down to future generations of their family and share it with the community.

They are always willing to lend a hand to those in the community who seek their help, making it a learning experience for both as they grow within that environment.

Even for Bautista, who was initially hesitant about the experience: “At first I thought it was boring, but when you go out there and people come to you for help, you see that they're so happy that you cured their child or you made them better. It makes me happy knowing that I was able to help make the child better or help with whatever problem they had.”

“You learn something new every day, every time. Because even up to this day, I'm still learning,” Bautista said.

Information As we get older, there are small ways we can help strengthen our culture. If you are interested in learning more about indigenous healing and local herbal medicine, you can visit Guma Yo’Amte at the Sagan Kotturan CHamoru Cultural Center in Tamuning.

You can also check out their website, www.hayafoundation.com, or follow @sagankotturanchamoru on Instagram for more updates on operation hours and events like CHamoru Healing Wisdom.

It takes a few minutes to make a difference. Together we can heal our land, heal our people, and heal our culture.

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