Interview with José Farrujia by Nira Llarena , press editor and creative.

To José Farrujia, before meeting him in person, he already knew him on social networks, as he happens to many people. With its quiet and close tone it has become a reference of the "Canarian theme", that tailor's drawer that for the common of the inhabitants of the Canary Islands has never been very clear.

With its contents, we critically bring us important issues about our past, our identity and the value of knowing and preserving our archaeological heritage. In recent years there is a resurgence of dissemination actions in this regard, with comics, short, films or novels that interpret that indigenous past in keys closest to the tastes of native Internet generations. Farrujia seems to want to be on the two banks of this sea, somewhat scrambled, swinging between the immediacy and superficiality of the networks and the depth of academic research. He has published more than twenty books, some with the clear vocation to bring the results of his investigations to the general public. In the last one, "when heaven spoke to us," written with his friend Miguel Martín, he proposes a trip to the past of an near and well -known territory for the residents of La Laguna, the Addar Achimencenceyate or the tip of the Hidalgo.

In this conversation, proposed following its participation in the International Campus Ciudad de la Laguna and the recovery for the same of the exhibition "Written in stone", we review some of the key issues of heritage management and the indigenous issue in the Canary Islands. Before I begin, he tells me that, currently, his role at the University of La Laguna is to train future teachers of the islands so that they can teach the history of the Canary Islands to their students. A teacher teacher. Without a doubt, that pedagogical ability comes out for the pores, listening to it is a pleasure, immensely better than following it on Instagram.

Since the presentation of the “Written in Stone” exhibition in 2014 and after more than ten years of research, collaborations and publications, how do you think the management of archaeological heritage in the Canary Islands has changed?

We live a somewhat contradictory moment that has been forged in recent years. On the one hand, there is more interest and knowledge about archeology; on the other, a greater lack of protection of the deposits. This is largely due to the emergence of social networks, not only from the professional point of view, which also, but, above all, from the amateur point of view. This has caused archeology, especially rock manifestations, have become very visible. This diffusion has approached this heritage to citizens, but has also exposed it to risks, especially since there is no real awareness of its fragility.

Although from the administration and formal education efforts are made, there are still gaps in the patrimonial formation of citizenship. Even the recovery of this exhibition, "written in stone", was born of social interest: the original catalog was exhausted and many people asked for a reissue. In addition, when we organize activities such as talks or projections, the answer is usually massive. In that, the networks have been key: they inform, connect and allow even participation.

Now, we must also be aware of institutional limitations. For example, in Tenerife there is a single insular unit of heritage and hundreds of deposits, which makes effective supervision unfeasible. To this is added that about 90 % of the rock heritage is outdoors, which makes it vulnerable not only to the plunder, but also to natural factors such as rain or erosion.

All this makes us before a very fragile heritage, we fight against the passage of time. Therefore, documentation, education and citizen awareness are fundamental.

Archaeological and natural heritage
in the Canary Islands cannot dissociate. They go hand in

You mentioned the issue of resources before. In relation to what we commented on the changes in the last decade, how do you see the evolution of the role of institutions in their commitment to the conservation of archaeological heritage?

 In the last legislature there has been a cut in the budget for patrimonial management, with the consequences that are derived from it. And then there is another important issue: since 2019, with the new Cultural Heritage Law of the Canary Islands, the municipalities have assumed more powers in this area, which has changed the panorama quite quite.

The problem is that many of these municipalities do not have technical units or specialized personnel. In many cases, the councilor responsible for heritage also manages other areas such as culture, social services or security, which dilutes the attention and effort that can be dedicated to him.

It is a relatively recent law, and we are still seeing how it is implemented. But for now, the reality is that not all municipalities are prepared to assume this responsibility, either due to lack of infrastructure or resources.

In the current context, how do you understand the relationship between archaeological heritage and natural heritage? Do you think it is possible to think about the archaeological heritage of the islands outside the natural environment in which it is found?

No, archaeological and natural heritage in the Canary Islands cannot dissociate. They go hand in hand. A good example is the case of the Mountain of Tindaya: its total protection was not achieved only by institutional decisions, but thanks to the impulse of environmental movements that understood their natural and cultural value. This reflects is that in the Canary Islands, since the 80s, there is an awareness of the patrimonial that unites nature with culture.

This link is evident in the Canarian indigenous world. For these communities, not only did the engraving matter itself, but where it was done. The place had a symbolic, spiritual value, often related to the landscape or heaven. In our research, we have seen ideal outcrops to record that they have no petroglyph, simply because the environment lacked that symbolic meaning.

Therefore, if we want to understand rock heritage, we must also understand the territory that gave meaning. Separating them is to decontextualize it and empty it from meaning. In fact, in cases such as the "soul cradle", a site to a museum was considered to move a museum, which would be completely denatured. It is as if we took the Podomorphs from Tindaya and exhibit them in a museum. It makes no sense because what gives the meaning is the context of the mountain and the phenomena that occur in relation to the sky to be able to understand what was happening there.

The exposure captive largely for its aesthetic value, especially thanks to the impressive photographs of Tarek ODEC, which undoubtedly contribute to disseminate and value these manifestations between the Canarian society. However, the question arises: what implications do you consider to consider indigenous rock manifestations under the category of "art" from a European aesthetic vision?

When we thought about this project, I, a little earlier, had published a book focused on an archeology of the margins that reflects on the colonial management of heritage and how that management generates a certain image. In that book, for the first time, I began to introduce images that were unmarked from the prototypical image of archeology. Scientific photos do not usually connect with people: they focus on details, they carry scales or pulls, and rarely transcend beyond the academic field. That is why we opted for a more aesthetic approach, which will help to disseminate these manifestations more closely.

Now, that does not mean that we should consider these expressions as "art." In fact, in the publication of "written in stone" I am very critical of the use of the term "rock art". Using this concept implies projecting a cultural category that does not necessarily have to do with the original intention of those who created those engravings. For the Canarian indigenous peoples, the important thing was not so much aesthetic, but the symbolic and functional value of what they did and, above all, as I mentioned before, where they did.

Also, we know, for studies in other cultures such as those in North Africa, that what is represented does not always coincide with its symbolic interpretation. Imagine how complicated it is to interpret abstract forms such as spirals or checkers. In addition, not all cave manifestations have the same function. Some mark territorial limits, others sacralize important places for community life, such as water points, or are linked to astronomical phenomena, such as solstices. Pretending to encompass everything under the term "art" is to simplify in excess a very complex cultural reality. That is why we prefer to talk about "rock manifestations", a more open term, which does not impose a reading from outside, but leaves space to try to understand them from their original context, from their own cultural logic.

In recent years, decolonial thought has gained space both in the academy and in the public debate. The case of La Laguna is especially interesting, being a city marked by the Hispanic inheritance, but also by a strong indigenous presence, as you and Miguel Martín have studied in the book "When the sky spoke to us." Given this, do you think the colonial gaze has influenced which archaeological sites are valued or protect more in the Canary Islands, and especially in the lagoon?

La Laguna is a very illustrative case of how colonial heritage has influenced the selection and assessment of archaeological heritage, and in general, in patrimonial management models. When World Heritage is declared by UNESCO in 1999, what is valued are criteria linked to the architectural, the monumental and the urban, that is, which responds to a colonial vision of heritage. This is not exclusive to La Laguna or the Canary Islands. It is a global management model that UNESCO itself has come to question, when verifying that a good part of the assets registered in its list respond to the same pattern: historical helmets of the colonial era, which end up generating a kind of planetary homogeneization of the cultural heritage that is preserved, visit and disseminate.

Faced with this, investigations such as the one collected by the book "When the sky spoke to us", focused on territories such as Addar (in Punta del Hidalgo), propose an alternative vision. This territory is part of the same municipality of La Laguna, but its heritage is completely different: it is not architectural or monumental, and that is why it has historically been out of the focus. In fact, there have been no archaeological excavations there, which highlights the knowledge void that exists, despite being a relatively small territory (about 19 km²) but with a density of archaeological sites comparable to other menceyatos such as Güímar, which has more than 200 km².

One of the reasons why it has reached us in good condition is that it is part of the Natural Protected Space of Anaga, which also underlines the close relationship between archaeological heritage and natural environment. The investigation seeks not only to contribute to enrich the catalog of cultural goods of the municipality beyond the colonial stage, but also to show that there are other patrimonial realities that must be recognized, managed and shared with society.

This decentralization implies expanding the gaze to neighborhoods and areas of the municipality that are not part of the historic center but containing heritage elements of great value. In the specific case of the Addar territory, key deposits located in areas very frequented by local population and tourists are documented, such as the coast that goes to San Juanito. Places that, without research or dissemination, go unnoticed, despite their importance to understand the indigenous history of the Canary Islands.

The current fragmentation, that kind of "buccanization" of heritage,
has weakened our cultural projection.
Each island has been on its own, and that has prevented us from
building a common narrative.

Returning to your vision about heritage and territory management. In that sense, how do you think we could advance in the Canary Islands towards a more critical, inclusive and diverse heritage management?

For now, I believe that there is a fundamental issue: a management should be recovered that will address the problems from a regional vision, and not so much insular. I believe that the current fragmentation, what I usually call a kind of "balcanization" of heritage, has weakened our cultural and identity projection, both outward and towards ourselves. Each island has developed its own heritage policies from the councils, which has prevented a more comprehensive look that allows us to understand the similarities and differences between islands, and build a common narrative.

Then, if we talk from a decolonial perspective, although a policy of decolonization of museums at the state level has already begun I think it is very late to Spain. The truth is that the decolonization of museums was promoted by Maori indigenous communities or even the North American ones since the 70s. And, without a doubt, that this debate has arrived in Spain is a direct consequence of those indigenous movements that began to develop in other contexts of the planet and that ended up being backed by organizations governmentally.

Here, however, we continue to expose aboriginal human remains in museums, without having generated a serious ethical debate or having the participation of society. Let us not forget that museums are spaces for projection of issues related to our identity, to our culture and, therefore, society has to be a partner.

Returning to the book you wrote about La Laguna ("When the sky spoke to us") which of the Guanches place names that recover in the book is your favorite?

Without a doubt, the one who was the old name of what we know today as the Roque of the two brothers: Aramuygo. It is my favorite because, if one understands what Aramuygo represents, he begins to understand a good part of the indigenous worldview of this territory, Addar. The Guanches did not appoint the places at random: each name described a concrete quality of the territory. For example, Anaga means "the highlands", due to its mountainous character. In this case, Aramuygo refers to a “with two faces” mountain, something that corresponds perfectly with the two -phase form of the Roque, which has two peaks and a transverse disposition to the coast, with an eastern and one western face.

And that is key, because it is from one of those faces from where very important solar phenomena were observed for them, such as winter and summer solstices. From certain coastal deposits, the Guanches aligned their observations with that concrete face of Aramuygo, which acted as a natural marker.

When one understands all this - the meaning of the name, its location, its relationship with the nearby deposits - you realize how valuable toponymy is. It is like an open book: if you know how to read it, it allows you to rebuild how they understood and inhabited the territory.

You have mentioned, and you also highlight in your book, the connection between archaeological sites and Guanches beliefs. Could you tell us what is the ritual manifestation that has caught your attention or that you have managed to understand better?

There is an obvious issue here and that is that Guanche rituals are deeply linked to the territory, although, unfortunately, only their material footprint has come. The most symbolic or ceremonial part - as songs, offerings or who participated in the rituals - was lost with colonization and change of beliefs. What we can study are the archaeological sites, such as the cassettes and channels, which appear in strategic places, aligned with astronomical phenomena such as solstices.

A clear example is the Aramuygo Roque that told you. From certain specific points you can see how the sun appears for that roque right in the winter solstice. That type of observations makes us think that the Guanches marked these places like Axis Mundi , points where the sacred manifested, where the sky symbolically touched the earth. And that not only happens in one place: we see it on different islands, as part of a common worldview.

Although we do not know with certainty what they said or did exactly in those rituals, we do know that the movement of the stars marked their calendar and their time organization. For a livestock and agricultural society, that was essential. Even many of the sacred paths they used, such as the one that goes to Chinamada, were reused until today as paths, and still retain that symbolic character. In fact, the names of some places, such as "La Escaleruela", have roots in that past ritual. That is why I think that knowing the territory and its place names is key to understanding that way of seeing and living the world. Everything is connected.

 Using the concept "rock art" implies
projecting a cultural category that does not
necessarily have to do with the
original intention of those who created those engravings

I have just occurred to me now a funny question that can serve to close this interview. If we bring here the July machine Verne and could use it: would you go to the future or the past? And at what time would you get off?

Without any doubt, I would travel to the past. I would go straight to adapt; It is an area to which I am very linked, not only for the investigation, but also at the affective and family level because I share residence between the lagoon and low for many years. I would love to spend a week, I do not ask for more, seeing what the day was like in that space, how they related to the environment, what they really did and why.

I think we would have many surprises. There are things that we interpret today from archeology, toponymy or historical documents, but we always have the doubt if we are atmosphere at all. And just in adapting we have been lucky to have an unusual confluence: archaeological remains, ancient names that describe the territory, and documentary sources that allow us to connect all that. It has been a privilege to work in a place where so many pieces of Puzzle fit so well. So yes, without thinking: to the past, already adapt.

Perhaps, the closest thing to ride in a time machine that we can get for now is to listen to people as wise and lucid as him. If you do not want to lose this trip to the past, José Farrujia will deepen all these issues with a conference within the axis of being of the heritage in the 21st century of the International Campus of the Lagoon. It will be on July 4 in the CajaCanarias Cultural Space of La Laguna.