BLOOMSBURG UNIVERSITY Bloomsburg Pennsylvania ANTHROPOLOGY NEWSLETTER Nov-Dec 1993 Vol. 18, No. 3 Meet Our New Faculty Member: Joining the Department of Anthropology for the Spring 1994 semester will be Dr. Premalata Ghimire, currently of Cabrini College in Philadelphia. Dr. Ghimire, who is from Nepal, holds both a M.A. and a Ph.D. in anthropology from Bryn Mawr College. Dr. Ghimire's research has focused on problems of caste in southern Nepal, particularly among a group of people known as the Satar. A former hunting & gathering culture, the Satar have adopted agriculture in this century, and many Satar have adopted caste customs relating to purity and pollution in order to improve their position in Nepalese society. Dr. Ghimire will be replacing Dr. Minderhout, who is on sabbatical for the Spring semester. During the Spring semester Dr. Ghimire will be teaching two sections of cultural anthropology (46.200) plus the new field methods in cultural anthropology course (46.475). In addition, she will be offering a course on the peoples and cultures of South Asia (India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Nepal, etc.). Anthropology students are urged to avail themselves of this opportunity. Marriage in Japan: On June 9, 1993, Crown Prince Naruhito of Japan, destined to be the 126th Emperor of Japan1 married Masako Owada, a diplomat in Japan's Foreign Ministry, in a ceremony carefully watched in Japan and publicized around the world. The wedding spawned a host of articles in the American media about the couple, most of which focused on the arranged aspects of the marriage. Americans are both fasc1nated and horrified by arranged marriages. With our value of rugged individualism held above us as a banner, we extol the virtues of a marital union based on romance and the personal commitment of two individuals to a life together - and apart from others. Arranged marriages were something forced on our greatgrandparents in their country of origin before coming to the United States; we like to think of the arranged marriage as an extinct anachronism, despite the fact that they are still very common the world over. Thus, the Crown Prince's wedding held a special fascination for Americans. How could this young, affluent, college-educated couple enter into something so out of touch with the present day? In fact, the Japanese royal wedding was a result of an interesting mix of personal choice and carefully arranged circumstances. The couple met for the first time seven years ago at a reception given in Tokyo to honor Princess Elena of Spain, in town to open a show honoring the Spanish artist, Goya. The Crown Prince had been putting the finishing touches on his master's degree in history, but was persuaded to attend, mostly to hear- a Japanese string quartet play Mozart, the Prince's favorite. Masako was in attendance as the guest of her father, the Director-General of the Treaty Division of the Foreign Ministry. An acquantaince of the Prince's from university days introduced the couple. The Prince was immediately smitten; she was not. Masako had just passed the entrance exam for the Foreign Ministry, a grueling test which only a few pass. She was about to become one of the 800 civil servants who run Japanese policy making. She had set her sights on that career and was not about to be sidetracked by marriage. Numerous meetings between the two followed at the Prince's insistence. Each was carefully arranged and chaperoned. Eventually, he proposed - and she declined. Her career came first, she said, and for five years the couple did not communicate with each other. Meanwhile, the Imperial Household Agency formed a princess-search group to find a suitable match for the Prince. They carefully researched suitable young women and presented them, o~e-by-one, to the Prince - who rejected them all. By the summer of 1992, he issued the search t~·nup a warning: either find a second Masako Owada, or he would stay single, whatevl,i" dyiastic complications er ,sued. Masako, meanwhile, was moving up in the foreign ministry. Her career was approaching her first overseas posting as an ambassador, and it was widely agreed in Japan, that should that happen, she, too, would remain single. Japan has only one female ambassador (to Finland), and she is married to the Japanese ambassador to Nigeria. The deadlock was broken by senior officials in the Imperial Household Agency and the Foreign Ministry who appealed to Masako's father to persuade his daughter to hear the Prince out another time. Her father agreed and talked his daughter into another meeting with the Prince last October. Again the Prince proposed, and again, Masako refused. But the Prince pressed his suit, meeting (chaperoned, of course) a dozen times with Masako in November and December 1992. Finally, she rel~nted, with what is probably one of the most romantic statements of modern history: "I shall do my best to be of service to your Highness." And not without misgivings, she later told a television interviewer, but it was her duty, she decided, to her family and to Japan. Of course, this seems like a special case. Royalty is different after all. But the "romance" between the Crown Prince and Masako Owada is very familiar to the Japanese, about half of whom have .Q!!llfil , or arranged marriages (actually, .Q!!llfil translates as "honorable seeing-meetings"). In the past, marriages were arranged between two families who generally lived in widely separated areas. Arrangements were facilitated by professional go-betweens who introduced the families to each other. The couple to be married had little or no say in the proceedings and often did not meet each other until the wedding ceremony. In modern Japan, the circumstances of an arranged marriage are somewhat different. Today, unmarried persons in their early twenties seek help from one of over 500 agencies that promise only the best social contacts. A prospective bride or groom goes through a lengthy interview at the agency and has his/her picture taken . The ag~ncy then seeks out appropriate singles of the opposite sex. If someone is interested, the agency arranges a meeting in a public place, such as a restaurant. In attendance are the young woman and man, both sets of parents, and a representative of the agency. At these meetings, generally only the parents and the agent speak; each set of parents presents the credentials - education, occupation, income, hobbies - of its child. Then the meeting breaks up. In the week following the meeting, the young people,decide if another meeting is desirable; if not, the agency tries again. If a second meeting is desired, it involves generally only the man and woman, but is often a stilted, formal affair in which each finds it hard to know what to talk about. If no common ground is established, the relationship ends there. But if there is some common interest, and the two warm to each other, the relationship grows. If there are three or four dates, everyone assumes that the two will marry. If that likelihood grows, it becomes the responsibility of the go-between agency to thoroughly research both young people and their families to root out family scandals or unacceptable kin lines. There is,for example, a hereditary Japanese untouchable caste generally today called the burakumin ("village people"), but who used to be called .em ("filth"). No one seems to know how the burakumi got their low caste status, but it is agreed that no decent person wants to marry one. Since the burakumin are physically indistinguishable from other Japanese, research is necessary to turn up undesirables in a prospective bride's or groom's background. Of course, it is possible to have a love match in Japan: the Japanese phrase for one, renai kekkon, roughly translates as "make your own headache." But many Japanese find it hard to meet and mingle with the opposite sex all by themselves. Many Japanese schools are sex-segregated. Teenagers travel in all-male or allfemale packs. High school is such serious business in Japan - 8 hours of classes, 5 hours of study in the ·evenings, plus special test preparatory schools called luku. - that high school age people have little opportunity to date. Even college life is built around activities that segregate the sexes. And unmarried women are expected to live at home with their parents and conform to strict rules, such as early evening curfews, imposed by them. As a result, many. young Japanese are extremely uncomfortable talking to someone of the opposite sex. And besides, an arranged marriage is more proper, an important consideration in a country where one's tatemae ("front" or public presentation) is far more important than one's honne ("back" or what one truly feels). And, the Japanese, go-betweens are able to find truly compatible persons, people with common interests on which a modern marriage may be built. The Crown Prince and Masako Owada are an example. Both love classical music and outdoor sports. His passion is history; she is an economist immersed in international affairs - history in the making. He went to Oxford for his degree; she was just about to go there as final prepping for her foreign service posting (her degree is from Harvard). She likes horses; his·family owns a twenty-horse stud farm. She likes g~, Japanese steamed dumplings; he loves them . They both relish Chinese-style spiced bean curd. And so on. Japanese commentators like to point out how much better suited the new royal couple is for each other than Great Britain's Charles and Diana, whose separation was announced last December at about the same time that the Prince and Masako's engagement was proclaimed. Charles, at the time of that marriage, was a 32 year old ex-fighter pilot whose passions were grouse shooting, architecture and the environment. His bride was 20 and a former nanny and kindergarten teacher who was interested in clothes, swimming, and pop music. No Japanese matchmaker was surprised to read, less than 18 months after Charles and Diana's wedding that the couple was desperately unhappy. And no Japanese matchmaker anticipates a similar fate for the new Japanese royal couple. For more information on Japanese marriage, we would recommend Pink Samurai: Core Marriage and Sex in Contemporary Japan by Nicholas Bornoff (Pocket Press, 1991.) Anthropological Ethics Thwart Native American Land Claim: by Tom Aleta. The ethics of conducting anthropological research have changed considerably over the past century as the discipline of anthropology has developed and matured. The early ethnographers, exemplifit::cf by Franz Boas, Bronislaw Malinowski, Alfred Kroeber, and Margaret Mead, saw them ~~Ives as dispassionate scientists whose job was to accurately study and describe a L.ul!ure without affecting or altering the people or their way of iife in any way. As late as the 1960's, a respected anthropologist like Colin Turnbull could observe and record the starvation and disintegration among the lk of Uganda without offering food or organizing a relief effort for fear of distorting the cultural process he was witnessing. In my Principles of Cultural Anthropology courses I liken this approach to the admonition seen in many wildlife parks today, or to the "Prime Directive" of the Star Trek series which prohibited Captain Kirk and the crew of the Enterprise from interfering with or modifying the cultures they contacted. Anyone who has ever watched Star Trek, or who has given serious thought to studying a social or cultural group, knows that it is impossible to adhere to the Prime Directive. The mere presence of an outside observer necessaril;y alters the behavior of those being studied. Furthermore, the social relations that an anthropologist establishes in order to acquire living accomodations, to secure food, to have the laundry done, to create a social network, to gather the desired anthropological data, etc., fundamentally alter the social and cultural dynamics of the group under study. In light of this reality, modern field anthropologists subscribe to a far different ethic than their forebearers. Since their presence unavoidably alters the culture, field workers accept a responsibility to do nothing intentionally to harm cultures and to act i_n cultures' best interests, especially when it is threatened by a more powerful social, economic, or political force. Hence, it is not uncommon to see anthropologists like Terrence Turner lobby for Bororo sovereignty before the Brazilian legislature or Napoleon Chagnon raise funds to defend the Yanomamo lands against encroachment by settlers. This form of advocacy has become so central to modern anthropological inquiry that it is encoded in the American Anthropological Association's Principles of Professional Responsibility (PPR): "In research, an anthropologist's paramount responsibility is to those he studies. When there is a conflict of ·interest, these individuals must come first. The anthropologist must do everything within his power to protect their physical, social, and psychological welfare and to honor their dignity and privacy." Considering the good intentions upon which this principle is based, it is ironic that it recently worked to the detriment of Native Americans involved in a land dispute with the Canadian government. Black Mountain and the Navajo-Hopi Land Dispute: by Tom Aleto. Attempts to recover lands lost since the arrival of Europeans is at the heart of much recent Native American political activity. As the preceding article indicates, these land disputes frequently pit Native American cultures against state, provincial, and federal governments which are accused of illegally possessing ancestral aboriginal territories. A number of these disputes are complicated by the competing claims of different Native American groups, each of which asserts to be the rightful owner of the. land under consideration. Such is the situation in the battle over the boundaries of the Navajo and Hopi reservations, perhaps the most famous and contentious Native American land dispute of this century. The most recent skirmish in this long simmering feud centers on the Big Mountain area of Black Mesa in northeastern Arizona, an area rich in coal, uranium, and other mineral deposits. This dispute has generated a great deal of interest among non-Indians who have formed public.. interest groups to lobby for the Native Americans before the federal government. But in a dispute that pits one Native American group against another, which native interests are being supported by lobbying activities? How can general "Native American" interests be served when the success of the Navajo is a defeat for the Hopi and vice versa? A review of some of the propaganda literature produced by the two tribes illustrates the complexity of the issue and the difficulty of defining "native 11 rights in an abstract sense. The most powerful public-interest group involved in this matter is the Big Mountain Support Group (BMSG) of Oakland, California, an organization with regional offices throughout the United States, including Philadelphia. The BMSG literature takes a decidedly pro-Navajo stance in the dispute and represents the conflict as one which pits the powerful Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) and energy conglomerates against the powerless and vulnerable Navajo and Hopi. In a series of press releases and public service announcements with titles like "Big Mountain Fact Sheet," "Peabody Coal and Big Mountain: Mineral Exploitation on Sacred Land" and "Big Mountain: Spirit, Resistance, Support," the BMSG presents the dispute as an attempt to dislocate the Navajo and Hopi from a territory known as the Joint Use Area (JUA) for the purposes of depriving both tribes of their rightful ownership of the rich mineral deposits located throughout the zone. It portrays the Navajo and Hopi as mutually aggrieved parties who have a common interest in protecting their ownership of the economically valuable and spiritually sacred JUA, a territory set aside for their joint use in 1882. Even though the BMSG presents itself as a voice for both the Navajo and the Hopi, a strong Navajo bias is clear in all of its literature. It repeatedly refers to the disputed territory as the "ancestral" territory of the Navajo to whom Big Mountain and the JUA are "sacred" and "holy". It uses the term "Dineh, 11 a Navajo term that means "the people" to refer to the aggrieved parties: "Dineh" is a foreign word to the Hopi who would never use it as a term of self-reference. The literature refers to the peaceful relations between the Navajo and Hopi and minimizes the depth and intensity of the historical animosity between them: "For generations members of the two tribes have coexisted peacefully on the JUA. Occasionally there was strife, but the clashes have been between families and they were settled by the families." The BMSG blames the government and Peabody Coal for driving "a wedge between the Navajo and the Hopi, who once lived in friendly interdependence on overlapping ancestral Lands." Of particular con·cern to the Navajo is a 1974 law that requires them to vacate most of the JUA and to reduce their animal herds by 90%. The BMSG interprets this law as the first step in the government's plan to eventually remove all of the Native Americans from the JUA and make the land available to non-Indian mining interests. The Navajo accuse the BIA of attempting to starve them off the land by confiscating the animals on the basis of invalid and ethnocentric scientific studies. "While the BIA describes the confiscation in terms of 'grazing regulation,' 'carrying capacity,' and 'range improvement,' the fact is that these are crude sciences at best and represent the imposition of European-based scientific values on a traditional people in total desecration of the spiritual and physical relationship to Mother Earth." The implication is that people with a native, non-European world view would not see evidence of overgrazing or overutilization of the area. The BMSG advocacy of the Navajo is evident also in its assessment of the Hopi Tribal Council, which frequently sides with the BIA against the Navajo on land-related issues. The BMSG portrays the current Hopi Tribal Council as an illegitimate authority whose structure is foreign to traditional Hopi culture and therefore not a rightful representative of the Hopi people. The following passage clearly states this position: "In 1934, the U.S. Congress enacted the Indian Reorganization Act, mandating that Indian Nations adopt an elective Tribal Council that would supercede traditional forms of government. An election - a process tally foreign to the traditional Hopi - was held to determine whether they would thereafter be subject to a central, U.S.-style legislative and executive body. Virtually all of the several thousand traditional Hopi refused to vote, thereby 'losing' the election to the small minority of 'progressives' who did vote. A European-based system emerged with which energy companies and the U.S. government could deal." In contrast, the BMSG claims, "The traditional Navajo leadership rejected the councils in favor of their own clan-based decision making process." The intended message is clear: the Navajo have maintained their tradition · and integrity by standing their ground against outside pressure, while tile Hopi have been coopted and manipulated by non-lndiar ,. The Hopi have a far different story to tell about the land dispute and their relationship with the Navajo. In literature published by the Hopi Tribe Office of Public Relations and distributed to visitors to the reservation, the Hopi present themselves as the only true aboriginal people of the area and the sole legitimate owners of the disputed territory. The first paragraph of a document entitled "Hopi: The Story of Our People" reads 'We Hopi are an ancient people. Here in Arizona we trace our history back two millenium (sic). We believe that we emerged here over a 100 generations ago. We are one of the oldest cultures in North America. Hopi and our ancestors lived in these arid lands long before the coming of the Paiutes, Navajos, Apaches, Spanish and the Americans. 11 In addition, it claims "Hopi clan markings and ruins of ancestral In the case known as Delgamuukw et.al. v. the Queen, the chiefs of the Gitksan and the Wet'suwet'en people petitioned the government of British Columbia for ownership and jurisdiction over the 22,000 square mile territory they claimed as their traditional homeland. They argued that because their ancestors never ceded the land in a treaty, they had never given up rights to its use and control, rights which were traditionally held by the head chiefs of their matrilineages. In support of their position, the chiefs called a number of anthropologists who had studied their cultures intensively. The anthropologists testified that oral tradition made it clear that the land in dispute had been part of the Gitskan and Wet'suwet'en ancestral territory before the arrival of Europeans and that the matrilineages had acted as the legitimate authority of the people in administering the land. In support of its case, the government of British Columbia offered the view of a cultural geographer who, based on a review of archival sources, testified that prior to the arrival of the European fur trade the Gitskan and the Wet'suwet'en had neither used their land enough to constitute aboriginal rights or mark its precise boundaries. Based on this, and other testimony, the judge ruled that the Gitskan and Wet'suwet'en's land claim was illegitimate because they had lived in a state of primitivity until the British established political control and they did not meet the legal requirements for aboriginal sovereignty. In his 394 page report, the judge made it clear that he considered the claims of ownership delineated in the oral tradition as hearsay and rejected the testimony of anthropologists as invalid. With respect to the latter, he cited the PPR as evidence that the anthropologists were not objective, disinterested scholars, but rather advocates with a professional responsibility to defend the rights of their informants. He clearly implied that the anthropologists, in order to fulfill their ethical responsibility, may have misrepresented the facts intentionally. At the same time, the judge found the testimony of the cultural geographer to be dispassionate, objective, and credible, at least partially because he was not bound to any similar statement of ethical principals. In a recent article in the American Anthropological Association's ANTHROPOLOGY NEWSLETTER, two of the anthropologists involved in the proceedings - Richard Daly and Antonia Mills of the University of Virginia - point to the irony of the case and suggest that the ethical principals have set a standard which anthropologists cannot meet. They write: "As students of anthropology we are taught to pursue our research with the dispassionate objectivity of natural scientists; yet our actions are constrained by ethical codes necessitated by the 'unnatural' (human) nature of our subject matter. We are simultaneously expected to be of this world and above it. The ensuing contradiction is an occupational hazard we confront on a daily basis." They arge that as long as the principles outlined in the PPR are presented as moral. imperatives, rather than as the legitimate result of scientific research, the efforts of anthropologists to defend the rights of the people they study will be open to the kind of suspicion expressed by the Canadian judge. As a result, the PPR may continue to have the unintended result of harming the very people anthropologists seek to help. villages clearly mark the traditional boundaries of our homeland." They believe that those boundaries include not only the area of the Big Mountain-JUA land dispute, but all of the land set aside in 1882 for the Navajo reservation. Not only do they view the Navajo as unwanted interlopers, but their portrayal of intertribal relations are substantially different from those of the BMSG. "Meanwhile, during the Spanish rule, depredations by Navajo raiders also began, who, with the horses introduced by Europeans, had become the chief enemy of the Hopis. With Mexican rule beginng in the early 19th century, Navajos began to drift into Hopi territory, leading to raiding parties in Hopi fields and kidnapping of women and children." Concerning what thP BMSG documents refer to as "friendly interdependence on overlapping ancesh ,I Lands" in the JUA in more recent times, the Hopi literature contends "The Navajos ... te-fuc;ed to allow any Hopi use of the Joint Use Area despiie years of fruitless negotiation." The Hopi accept implicitly the same BIA data on overutilization of the land which Navajo reject as unscientific and out of touch with a native world view: "The unrestricted grazing of cattle on the Joint Use ' Area was 800% overgrazed." The Hopi do not share the BMSG's view that the forced relocation of the Navajo from the JUA is a ploy by outsiders to steal Indian land. Rather, they see it as a victory for themselves over the more numerous and land-rich Navajo. In making reference to the Navajo's "West Virginia-sized reservation" and their own limited territory, the Hopi reiterate their historical claim to land recovered in the JUA: "The Hopi now have regained a tiny fraction of the aboriginal lands marked by the ancient shrines to which the Hopi elders still make pilgrimages each year." Their ultimate hope is to gain title to all of the territory they held before 1882. Both the Navajo and the Hopi have vested interests in presenting a portrait of the dispute to the public which favors their position over that of their adversary. The Hopi have chosen to make the Navajo the enemy, while the Navajo have chosen to frame the debate as a conflict between a governmental-business alliance and native peoples in general. It is clear that the question of "aboriginal rights" cannot be understood in the context of the simplistic "good native people/bad white people" scenario presented by groups like the BMSG. Native Americans do not represent a homogeneous, monolithic group with a single set of convergent interests. Often their interests and their claims of native ri·ghts diverge dramatically. Considering the complexity of the matter and the nature of the conflicting interests, it seems that this land dispute, already over 100 years old, may remain unresolved for a very long time. British Culture: Americans often believe that the British are just like us - perhaps a quainter version, all sounding somewhat like Alistair Cooke, but basically the same culture. However, there are a great many cultural differences between the United States and Great Britain. For example, an American can expect the British to be more private and less open about themselves than Americans are. The popular American opening line "And what do you do?" is considered too personal a question in Great Britain. The British treasure their privacy and go to great lengths to maintain theirs - ,,,.. and the privacy of others. The British avoid using the telephone, for instance, because they might interrupt someone else's privacy. Similarly, a British businessperson will prefer meeting in person, rather than talking something over on the phone. When Americans want privacy, we go to an enclosed space~ a room or office - and close the door. To achieve privacy, the British become quiet and give off a series of non-verbal cues which alert others that they wish to be left alone. Thus, the British can share space - roommates in an apartment or executives in an office area - with greater ease than Americans can and not feel that their privacy ·is being invaded. To the British, status is a matter of who one is, not what one has accomplished in life. Rank and social class membership are conferred at birth and seldom change through life. The rare working class Briton who attends an university and becomes a successful executive will always be a working class person to his/her peers. And, by comparison, a lord is always a lord, no matter what his financial circumstances might have become. Similarly, living or working near someone in Great Britain confers no privilege. For instance, living next doors to a family in Great Britain does not entitle you to visit them, borrow from or socialize with them, or your children to play with theirs, especially if you are from different social classes. If the Briton next doors does talk to you, he/she will stand farther away than you will be comfortable with; the Briton will also maintain constant eye contact while the conversation is going on. And Britons will not nod, say "un-huh" or do many of the things an American is used to in indicating t_ hat they are paying attention to what is being said; instead, they wm blink their eyes in a culturally accepted manner, which, of course, an American doesn't understand. Especially surprising to Americans are the many differences between American and British English. Not only do Americans and Britons have different words for the same idea, but also there are often entirely different meanings given to the same word or phrase. For example, in American English, the phrase "to table" means to pull something out of consideration. But in British English, "to table" means to bring something up for consideration. Also, the phrase "knocked up" in British English means to be tired, especially to work at something .tiring. Many an American has been surprised to hear a Briton say "Let's go get knocked up!" Here is a list of words that are different in American and British English: BRITISH ENGLISH AMERICAN ENGLISH arterial road booking clerk car park clothespeg compare cornet (of ice cream) a crisp a chip friendly society hire purchase system main road ticket agent parking lot clothespin master of ceremonies ice cream cone potato chip trench fry fraternal organization installment plan holiday maker hooter rubber larder left-luggage office mobile police pram pants trousers public prosecutor raider running expense on vacation horn or siren eraser pantry checkroom highway patrolman baby carriage underwear pants district attorney holdup man or mugger "'1erating ?"'Pense For more information on British English, please see English/English by Norman Schur (1990, Verbatim Books). And by the way, don't call an English person a "Brit"; they find that phrasing offensive. Anthropology Faculty News: Dr. Tom Aleto presented a paper at the Twelfth Annual Northeastern Conference on Andean Archaeology & Ethnohistory in Pittsburgh on October 23, 1993. The paper summarized Dr. Aleto's research at the Ceibo Grande site on La Puna Island in Ecuador. Dr. Aleto argued his belief, based on excavation and a reading of historical accounts, that the site was an important community at the time of contact with the Spanish; he also reported a radiocarbon date that placed the site in the mid-16th century. Dr. Aleto also attended the prestigious Dumbarton Oaks conference on Mesoamerican archaeology in Washington, D.C. on October 9 and 10. Dr. Aleto was accompanied to both conferences by Karen Elwell. Dr. Dee Anne Wymer presented a paper in the plenary session of a conference entitled "A View From the Core", which summarized and synthesized research on Ohio Hopewell Archaeology. Dr. Wymer's paper, "The Ohio Hopewell Econiche: HumanLand Interaction in the Core Area, 11 summarized her work over the last ten years on the use of plants by the Hopewell. The conference was held in Chillicothe, Ohio. Dr. Dave Minderhout attended the annual meetings of the American Anthropological Association, held November 17-21 in Washington, D.C. FYI: Dr. Minderhout will be on sabbatical during the spring semester of 1994. He will be writing sample chapters for a proposed introductory textbook for cultural anthropology. While he will be traveling off and on during the spring semester, he will also be available to students by appointment during that time. Students wishing to meet with Dr. Minderhout should call him at his home phone: 784-0905.