MY RECENT trip to Okinawa dealt with a lot of issues such as peace, militarism and decolonization. But I also hoped to learn more about Okinawan culture. One of the difficulties in learning about this by simply driving around and seeing things is that the Japanese government attacked many aspects of Okinawan culture long ago, and even if Okinawans kept much of their identity, the practices and symbols disappeared.

For example, most people in Okinawa as well as mainland Japan were intrigued by the tattoos on my arms. Although there is a tradition of tattooing in both cultures, this is something that is done primarily by "low" or "suspect" individuals. It is more acceptable for younger Japanese people, but not necessarily for older folks and especially women.

I was surprised then while looking through a book on Okinawan history to come across pictures of elderly women with simple geometric tattoos on the tops of their hands. I ended up asking several people about these tattoos. The designs were reminiscent of natural things such as islands, birds and other animals, and some families had their own distinct design they would use. For some they were magical spells to increase fertility or happiness; for others they were ways of marking women in the same way that you might brand your cattle.

After the annexation of Okinawa by Japan in the late 19th century, this practice was banned as barbaric. Most women I spoke to recalled their grandmothers or great grandmothers having tattoos, but could not think of anyone who was still alive who had them. They all agreed, however, that the tattoos were symbols of the strength and status of women in Okinawan life. While it was also a patriarchy, Okinawan women held more spiritual and cultural power than their mainland counterparts. The attack on the "hajichi" tattoos was only one aspect of an overall assault on the place of women in Okinawan society. Female religious leaders and healers were attacked, as were their clothes and their dances.

I asked several of the female activists I met if they have ever considered trying to bring back these tattoos that were once prohibited. I saw people using other things that Japan tried to destroy, from language to clothes for example, why not this one?

In terms of decolonization, the cultural form often appears to be the easiest since culture in many ways takes the form of just artifacts, clothes, jewelry, and so decolonizing yourself culturally can be as simple as putting on a shell necklace or getting a tattoo with a Chamorro word. But there are always two levels to cultural decolonization. The first level is non-threatening, fun, exotic and something you can even make money with. It can simply be about cultural pride, and embodying some simple thing that doesn't really offend anyone and is just you expressing yourself. Food is the most significant, harmless artifact that fits this type. Food is something that everyone likes to share and everyone can enjoy, but comes with very little overt political meaning. Food is after all the ideal multicultural metaphor. In a multicultural space, everyone can bring their own ethnic food and have a spot at the table.

A second form is defined through the discomfort it creates, either in others or in the decolonizing person themselves. It is something that doesn't fit neatly into the present, but will chafe against the existing ideological structure, and either be rudely rejected or snap the boundaries and create new meaning. This is the type of cultural decolonization that is truly transformative, but is generally feared as reflecting too great a change. It is something whereby you transgress the biases of history and attempt to reconnect to things that were once intimate, but today feel foreign.

In times past, both Okinawan and Chamorro cultures held ancestral worship as the center of their religion. Ancient Chamorros would not only pray to the spirits of their ancestors, but also take mementos of them such as shinbones, hands and most importantly the skull. Chamorros would treat the skulls in their homes as members of the family, offering them food and speaking to them in reverent tones.

Although the idea of ancestral veneration remains in Chamorro culture today, that specific practice of taking the bones of your ancestors into your home and then treating them like members of the family is considered crazy. If you were to conduct yourself in such a manner today, people would report you to the police, mental health and the Catholic Church. Although this practice was once normal for Chamorros, centuries have passed and now we would most likely see it as disgusting and reprehensible. Centuries of history and layers of colonization created a rift between Chamorros and that practice.

When I asked about Okinawan women today tattooing themselves, I received a response similar to that of most Chamorros if asked about keeping the skulls of their relatives who have died recently: interesting to think about, not necessarily to do.