Acculturation and Change in Olinala
When I arrived in Olinala in 1980 to live for two years, the times had changed. People still spoke of mountain marriages, but none occurred. Not understanding their meanings behind their words and not having observed a mountain escapade, the threat by the townspeople—that some horseman might kidnap me—kept me alert.
While there were few horses in the streets, I avoided all horses. If I saw one, I quickly knocked on a person’s house to spend time with them. When I went around corners, I first spied down the street to ensure visibility of all people and nonvisibility of four legged creatures that weighed 2,000 pounds. One point I was sure about: a kidnapper needed a horse for a kidnapping, and no horse meant no kidnapping. While I frequently asked people about their serious but humorous comment to me—“Un hombre va a robarte, Catalina; vas a ver” (a man is going to steal you, Cathy; you will see), the truth from those with whom I trusted is first that the possibility of a kidnapping did exist; that was the explanation for their seriousness. Second, they remembered the exciting and successful kidnappings and that explained their joyousness. Third, they enjoyed, and never lost this aspect of their enjoyment, joking with me. Their conclusion was that there was always a possibility that a mountain marriage could happen.After a year, I again asked my trusted Olinaltecan friends about the possibility of a mountain marriage. Now, they said, it is not possible because you have established your reputation. Acting as a diplomat around the town endeared me to the people, and for that reason, no kidnapper would dare risk his reputation against mine. Therefore, a kidnapper’s control is superseded today by community support as a control. In Olinala, I earned control through my actions, but in United States, my actions resulted in contradictory interpretations.
The incidence of mountain marriages was somewhat common in the 1950s and 1960s and several occurred during each drought season from October until April. By the 1970s, the number of mountain marriages was infrequent: one every two to three years. While these were still called mountain marriages, the meaning and result had changed. The code of honor by kidnappers had decreased, and the term robarte was now used with an additional word: robarte con Juerse, to steal with force or to rape. The women raped did not have to marry the kidnappers, and respect for these women remains high today.
Kidnappers suffer one of two consequences: if the family of the victim-survivor can not kill them, then they seek exile for life. Their crime is a crime for life: no rehabilitation or sanctions are allowed or accepted. My investigation revealed the names of the rapists from the 1970s who were either buried in the ground or in exile. While the family recognized and openly admitted that their male member was a rapist, they also protected him by keeping the location of that exile strictly secret.
How did Olinala smooth out their history of contradictions to expose hidden rape? In a community where the activities of a select few rapists were covered up in the applauded mountain marriages, later enhancements in economics and education have altered the patterns of interaction and exposed the criminals and their crimes.
The impact and availability of education were important as a route to succeeding economically in such jobs as clerks, secretaries, teachers, nurses, or specialized training: all resulted in salaried positions but demanded an education. The tripling of the number of grade schools and the extended number of years that a child spent in primary and secondary (junior high) augmented people's interactions. Education became a route to succeed monetarily in the community or elsewhere. The years in school broke the isolation. Interaction, once a rarity, was now a daily occurrence.
Young adults did not need the excuse of bypassing parental house control because they were now able to talk and laugh with everyone.The redistribution of land impacted access to wealth. In the 1930s, the town had two economic classes: the wealthy landowners and the landless poor peons. The 1940s redistribution of land resulted in every family owning or accessing land to grow crops. With a guaranteed food supply the family could spend the nonagricultural season working as artisans, while an expanding tourism industry assured outlets for products.
A town that promoted a cultural pattern that protected rapists now had repatterned itself. The result is that kidnappers' praise turned into kidnappers' crime—a crime against the family and the community. During the 1982 kidnapping, the people in Olinala stopped and focused on resolution of the crime. Until the woman was safe, the community was partially paralyzed and after the capture of the rapist, the healing occurred in different degrees but for everyone.