Julie Cupples 1 and Kevin Glynn 2 1 Institute of Geography, School of GeoSciences, University of Edinburgh, Scotland 2 School of English and Media Studies, Massey University, Wellington, New Zealand Correspondence: Julie Cupples (email: julie.cupples@ed.ac.uk) Some universities in postcolonial settler nations such as New Zealand and Canada have begun to acknowledge their need for a more inclusive approach toward indigenous cosmologies and epis- temologies, lest they continue to alienate indigenous students; nevertheless such change is not proving easy for these universities. In the North Atlantic Region of Nicaragua, there is however a community university which is successfully using higher education to empower indigenous and Creole students and intellectuals against a backdrop of long histories of racism, discrimination, poverty and marginalization. The pedagogic model in operation at the University of the Autono- mous Regions of the Nicaraguan Caribbean Coast is based on the concept of interculturality and aims to provide access to higher education for individual students but without losing sight of education as a collective good. The concept of interculturality and its articulation in diverse sites is of critical interest to postcolonial geography given its connections to the geopolitics of place and space and its origins in black and indigenous social movements in Latin America. Keywords: Nicaragua, higher education, modernity/coloniality/decoloniality, interculturality, health, communication Introduction In recent decades, we have witnessed a decisive resurgence of black and indigenous mobilizations across Latin America. While African-descended and indigenous peoples have resisted colonialism, racism and exploitation for ve centuries, in recent years, such mobilizations have become much more visible and politically effective. Indigenous and Afro-Latino populations have protested and occupied, created their own institu- tions, engaged transnationally with the United Nations, the World Bank and non- governmental organizations (NGOs), and made their own media (see e.g. Postrero & Zamosc, 2004; Yashar, 2005; Salazar & Crdova, 2008; Anderson, 2009; Andolina et al., 2009). They are demanding land rights, political and cultural recognition, autonomy, environmental protection and the right to their own languages, knowledges and cul- tural practices. These decolonizing mobilizations are bringing about dramatic shifts in the terrain on which development is conducted and asserting alternative ways of knowing the world. The black and indigenous project in Latin America is epistemic as well as political, given that colonialism was as much about asserting the superiority of European ways of knowing and repressing indigenous systems of knowledge not useful to colonial domination as it was about taking indigenous land and resources (Quijano, 2007). Colonized populations were deemed incapable of rational thought (Quijano, 1992) and consequently, black and indigenous knowledges have been excluded, omitted, silenced, and/or ignored (Grosfoguel, 2011: n.p.). Given the epistemic underpinnings of coloniality, contemporary struggles for decolonization are waged partly in sites of education, involving not only a demand for bilingual schools but also the creation of intercultural universities which aim to support political and social struggles with culturally and epistemologically appropriate modes of bs_bs_banner doi:10.1111/sjtg.12051 Singapore Journal of Tropical Geography 35 (2014) 5671 2014 The Authors Singapore Journal of Tropical Geography 2014 Department of Geography, National University of Singapore and Wiley Publishing Asia Pty Ltd teaching, learning and research (Mato, 2011). These initiatives are explicitly framed by the actors involved as political responses to centuries of domination and exploitation, and their key aims are to strengthen processes of decolonization, development and autonomy. This article explores one such initiative which began in the 1990s on the North Atlantic coast of Nicaragua. The Universidad de las Regiones Autnomas de la Costa Caribe Nicaragense (URACCAN or University of the Autonomous Regions of the Nicaraguan Caribbean Coast) is a community and grassroots university which is suc- cessfully using higher education to empower indigenous and Creole students and intellectuals against a backdrop of long histories of racism, discrimination, poverty and marginalization. The pedagogic model in operation at URACCAN is based on the concept of interculturality and aims to provide access to higher education for individual students, but without losing sight of education as a collective good. It emerges at a time when the universitys changing role in society is intensely contested globally, producing a range of intellectual and political responses and mobilizations (see Readings, 1996; Aronowitz, 2001; Neweld, 2008). Our work with and visits to URACCAN began in 2008, when we started working with Costeo mediamakers connected to the univer- sitys community television channel, BilwiVision. This article emerges from long-term scholarly involvement in Nicaragua by one of the authors, and forms part of a broader research project involving questions of indigeneity and indigenous rights that is situated at the intersection of human geography and media and cultural studies, and in which both authors are involved. Our reections also emerge from our long-term employment at a New Zealand university that was trying but largely failing to incorporate Ma ori worldviews and to recruit and retain Ma ori faculty and students. We argue that a focus on such initiatives could provide us with empirical and theoretical resources for revitalizing and reorienting postcolonial geography in line with some of the insights emerging from the modernity/coloniality/decoloniality (MCD) paradigm. The MCD paradigm is of interest to geographers, as it is addressing a range of geopolitical and epistemic questions surrounding space and place, the contested and competing ways in which the world is regionalized and understood, and the knowledges and cultural practices of marginalized populations. This article is divided into four sections. First, we outline the complex relationship between indigenous peoples and traditional universities. Second, we introduce the MCD paradigm and the concept of interculturality central to URACCANs mission and vision. We then describe the work being done by URACCAN, focusing in particular on intercultural communication and intercultural health. We end with a set of reections on how postcolonial geographers might better practise interculturality in support of decolonizing processes. Indigenous peoples in traditional universities While traditional universities can be sites of radical thought, they are often alienating environments for indigenous students and scholars. Universities in postcolonial settler nations such as New Zealand and Canada have struggled to embrace indigenous cos- mologies and epistemologies, and the results of efforts to improve indigenous students admission and completion rates have been very uneven. Indeed, indigenous and Afro- Latino scholars in Canada, New Zealand and parts of Latin America have emphasized how many experience the academy as a colonial and monocultural institution (see e.g. CW Smith, 1994; Pihama, 2001; Kuokkanen, 2007; LT Smith, 2010; Mato, 2011) that functions on a basis of epistemic ignorance regarding indigenous cultures (Kuokkanen, Indigenizing and decolonizing higher education 57 2007). For Canadian-based Sami scholar, Rauna Kuokkanen (2007: 49), indigenous people who come to the university face many challenges and difculties, including benevolent ignorance, misconceptions about their cultures, individual and institutional discrimination, and systemic marginalization. Similarly, Ma ori intellectual, Linda Tuhiwai Smith (1992: 3), asserts that Ma ori exist in institutions which are founded largely on the collective denial of our existence as Ma ori and which not only actively continue to assimilate us but more importantly perhaps actively compete with us and the world views we represent. Smiths (1992; 2010) work (has shown how the attempt to make space for theoretical and methodological approaches that are relevant for indigenous communities converts the university into a site of struggle against racism, marginalization and coloniality. Kuokkanen (2007) notes that although most universities are concerned with the question of diversity, they tend to treat indigenous students largely as a population that needs special help while continuing to marginalize their worldviews or epistemes. This epistemic ignorance in the academy is compounded by the ways in which indigenous issues get framed by dominant societies. In many countries, mainstream society assumes that indigenous peoples are not capable of academic achievement and are better suited to factory or plantation work. Furthermore, the deepening of market-oriented logics of exchange that accompanies the global expansion of neoliberal agendas means that most universities increasingly subject knowledge production to assessments driven by expec- tations of generating an economic return value (Kuokkanen, 2007). Such assessments and expectations clash with the gift economies and wider notions of reciprocity that form the basis of many indigenous societies and constitute not a form of exchange but an alternative to exchange (Kuokkanen, 2007: 30). While indigenous peoples are struggling to indigenize research, teaching and gov- ernance in traditional universities, an alternative response is the creation of a different kind of university in which indigenous ways of knowing form the basis of scholarly and pedagogical practices. Intercultural universities that are rooted in and connected with the political and social struggles of marginalized groups are ourishing throughout Latin America. Two universities, URACCAN and Blueelds Indian and Caribbean University (BICU), were created on Nicaraguas Atlantic Coast in the 1990s, and many more since have been established across the continent, including the Universidad Autnoma Indgena Intercultural (UAIIN) in Colombia, Centro Amaznico de Formao Indgena (CAFI) in Brazil, Universidad Intercultural de las Nacionalidades y Pueblos Indgenas Amawtay Wasi (UAW) in Ecuador and Universidad Intercultural de Chiapas in Mexico (see Mato, 2011). These universities are open to non-indigenous students, as the principle of interculturality means that white and mestizo populations must respect and learn from indigenous and other marginalized ways of knowing. It is important to recognize that practising interculturality is often hardest for dominant groups, as black and indigenous populations are used to negotiating hegemonic cultures and knowledges while holding onto their own, whereas white privilege allows the dominant to ignore subordinated ways of knowing and being. The decolonial option and postcolonial geography It is helpful to draw on some of the insights emerging from the MCD research paradigm (otherwise known as the decolonial option) in order to grasp how URACCAN might provide a lens through which to rethink postcolonial geography. The decolonial option emerges primarily out of Latin American cultural studies, but is raising key geographical 58 Julie Cupples and Kevin Glynn questions concerning the geopolitics of place and space, cartographic ontologies, bodies and subjectivities. While there is substantial theoretical overlap between postcolonial studies and the MCD paradigm, the latter mobilizes a different historical perspective, locating the start of modernity not with the European Enlightenment but with the conquest of America in the fteenth century. MCD sees modernity and coloniality as mutually constituted; it recognizes that the global capitalist world order in place today would not have been possible without the colonization of America (see Escobar, 2007; Mignolo, 2007 for detailed introductions to the paradigm). The decolonial option draws on a corpus of Latin American indigenous, popular and subaltern thought and a variety of historical and contemporary indigenous and Afro- Latin social movements, such as the 1780 Tupac Amaru rebellion in Peru, the 1804 Haitian revolution, and the Zapatista movement in Chiapas. MCD holds that coloniality created the conditions for border-thinking and interculturality (see Mignolo, 2000; 2007; Escobar, 2007; Quijano, 2007; Walsh, 2007). It aims to bring non-linear, situated and non-Eurocentric modes of thought to the fore, and encourages activists and scholars to think with social movements and from the perspective of the excluded other (Escobar, 2007: 187). Surprisingly, geographers have been slow to engage with the decolonial option, and both indigenous peoples and Latin America remain inexplicably on the margins of postcolonial geography, which is more focused on the legacies of the nineteenth century and on British (and sometimes French) colonial expansion (Gilmartin & Berg, 2007, see also Mignolo, 2000: 91; Mignolo & Tlostanova, 2008). For example, Blunt and McEwans (2002) edited collection paid scant attention to Latin America and virtually none to indigenous peoples, apart from one chapter on Australia (Gooder & Jacobs, 2002). Joanne Sharps (2008) more recent textbook makes a few references to Latin America but none to the decolonial option. These tendencies mirror a broader failure within postcolonial studies to include indigenous perspectives (Byrd & Rothberg, 2011). Yet geography is perhaps uniquely placed to engage with and extend the MCD para- digm, which could also enrich postcolonial, political, cultural and feminist geography in important ways. Ramn Grosfoguel (2011), without referring to the discipline of geog- raphy, notes that postcolonial scholars tend to be located in the humanities and privilege cultural analysis, while social scientists more often identify with world-systems approaches and prioritize economic relations. While he perhaps overstates this division, it is historically real and has material consequences for knowledge production. While substantial scholarship in human geography draws equally on the humanities and social sciences, ongoing tensions between postcolonial geography and development geogra- phy remain (see Sharp & Briggs, 2006; McEwan, 2009). (Postcolonial) geography and MCD need to engage more closely with one another, not only because the MCD paradigm is raising crucial questions about the geopolitics of knowledge, cartographies and the body, but also because geography is engaged with approaches that have much consonance with and pertinence for the decolonial turn, in particular the ongoing interrogation of a culture versus economy dichotomy and the development of nonreductive ways to think about political transformation (see Grosfoguel, 2007). Geographers also have much to contribute to MCDs interrogation of the excess of condence . . . regarding the ontology of continental divides (Mignolo, 2005: x), and of processes that resulted in an Anglo-America in the North and a Latin America in the South, whereby Chileans, Uruguayans and Nicaraguans lost the right to call themselves Americans (Galeano, 1973). As Mignolo (2005) writes, the Latin in Latin America is a lens through which post-independence elites looked towards Europe while denying Indigenizing and decolonizing higher education 59 the validity of black and indigenous knowledges. Yet, for late Argentine scholar Rodolfo Kusch, whose writings never referred to Latin America, to be in Amrica (as he called the continent encompassing both North and South) is to co-exist with indigenous people and people of African descent (Mignolo, 2010: xlvi). While a debate on whether decolonial is a more productive and spatially attuned concept than postcolonial is beyond the scope of this paper, it is worth noting that both indigenous scholars and those associated with the MCD paradigm have emphasized what they see as serious limitations with postcolonial theory (see Mignolo, 2000; Pihama, 2001; Surez-Krabbe, 2009; Smith, 2010; Mahuika, 2011). At any rate, both the modernity/coloniality nexus and Amrica as place and as idea are highly amenable to geographic enquiry. Nicaraguas Atlantic Coast and the emergence of URACCAN The Atlantic Coast region of Nicaragua is a multiethnic and multilingual region that has followed a distinct historical trajectory from the rest of the country. It is home to six indigenous peoples and ethnic communities: the Miskito, Mayangna, Rama, Garfuna, Creole and Mestizo, known collectively as Costeos. The region welcomed and inte- grated freed and escaped slaves who found themselves on the shores of the Mosquito Coast. It was never colonized by Spain, but many inhabitants developed mutually benecial trading relationships with the British. At the end of the nineteenth century, the region was annexed by Nicaragua and since then has been subject to substantial discrimination and internal colonialism by the Pacic mestizo majority. Tensions between the central government and the Atlantic Coast increased dramatically during the Nicaraguan Revolution in the 1980s, when many Costeos took up arms against the revolutionary government. Military and political struggles in the region and govern- ment recognition of its own cultural insensitivity towards the Coast led in 1987 to the passage of an autonomy law and the rewriting of the Nicaraguan Constitution to recognize Nicaraguas status as a multiethnic nation. At this time, Nicaraguas Atlantic Coast was divided into two autonomous regionsthe RAAN (North Atlantic Autono- mous Region) and the RAAS (South Atlantic Autonomous Region). Despite signicant marine, forest and mineral resource wealth, poverty levels are higher on the Atlantic Coast than in the Pacic. There is very little formal employment and Costeos lack access to decent health care, education, sanitation, drinking water, transport and tele- communications (Cunningham Kain, 2006). While the legal framework ushered in with autonomy is excellent, it is weakly implemented, and many Costeos are frustrated with the slow and incomplete nature of the process (Castillo & McLean, 2007). Autonomy requires stronger and more assertive institutions, and thus a cohort of educated and politically committed professionals willing to stay and work in the region. In some ways, URACCAN and BICU build on earlier initiatives to nurture intercul- tural citizenship, bilingualism and indigenous rights through education. The Moravian Church, which began its evangelizing missions on the Atlantic Coast in the mid- nineteenth century but progressively became indigenized, invested heavily in educa- tional initiatives that created Moravian primary and secondary schools in remote areas and promoted Miskitu literacy through the translation of religious texts and newsletters into Miskitu (Hawley, 1997). In Bilwaskarma, the Moravian Church established in 1935 a School of Nursing (which was relocated to Puerto Cabezas/Bilwi in 1981) and later a Moravian Theological Centre (Cunningham Kain, 2004). As Hawley (1997) writes, the Moravian church played an important role in mobilizing Miskito populations in defence 60 Julie Cupples and Kevin Glynn of their rights. It continues to be involved in higher education. While the church has no formal involvement with URACCAN, it provides accommodation for the Bilwi branch campus of BICU (Dennis & Herlihy, 2003). There have been other initiatives to provide higher education on the Coast. Beginning in the 1970s, the National Autonomous University of Nicaragua (UNAN) repeatedly attempted to establish courses and distance learning in the region, with limited success (Cunningham Kain, 2004). Until the cre- ation of URACCAN and BICU, higher education provision for Costeos was patchy and mostly inaccessible. Education was one of the central issues of the autonomy process, and local political actors insisted on institutions that apply endogenous forms of pedagogy, use indigenous and Creole languages, and involve culturally appropriate teacher training and course texts (Cunningham Kain, 2002). The development of autonomous intercultural univer- sity education was deemed necessary to halt the brain drain of intellectuals from the region, to provide educational opportunities in the RAAN and RAAS, particularly for indigenous and Creole young people who nd it very difcult economically and cultur- ally to study in the Pacic, to strengthen the professional and political human resource capacity required for the consolidation of autonomy, to conduct research that would respond to local realities and aspirations, to empower people and local communities to determine their own development, and to overcome long histories of racism, discrimi- nation, poverty and marginalization (for more detailed discussion, see Cunningham Kain, 2002; 2004). In other words, such an approach aims not only to enhance well-being in the region, but also to improve relations with the rest of the country and challenge racist views of Costeos often held by Nicaraguan mestizo populations in the Pacic. As Miskito intellectual and URACCAN founder, Avelino Cox, remarked to us, Pacic Nicaraguans believe that we Costeos dont think, they believe that there are no intellectuals here, that there are no researchers (pers. comm., Bilwi, 12 January 2008). URACCAN was created in 1992 through a resolution of the National Council of Universities (CNU), 1 and began to offer classes in 1995 in Bilwi and Siuna in the RAAN and in Blueelds in the RAAS. Additional branch campuses were created in the next decade in Nueva Guinea (RAAS) and in Rosita, Bonanza and Waslala (RAAN). URACCAN has around 3000 students and about 200 teaching faculty. Tuition costs are kept low and at least half of all students receive full or partial scholarships. While some faculty have Masters and PhD degrees, the institution also employs traditional healers and indigenous language specialists without formal qualications (Hooker Blandford, 2009). BICU, which was established in the RAAS just prior to URACCANs launch, is based in Blueelds but has a branch campus in Bilwi and a strong intercultural and community focus. URACCANs vision statement expresses its aspirations to be a leading community intercultural university that accompanies the indigenous peoples and mestizo and Afro-descended communities of the region in development processes which promote citizenship (URACCAN, n.d., our translation). While its teaching and research are grounded in local needs and realities, URACCAN is a globally connected institution with an impressive set of international partners, including a number of both mainstream and intercultural universities, from which it gains nancial support and with which it shares experiences. It is also connected to national government agencies, and focused on transforming national policies in ways that help the Atlantic Coast and promote the undoing of long histories of neglect and misunderstanding. URACCAN is connected to local communities through diverse forms of engagement, including forms of exchange and accompaniment (acompaamiento) with Councils of Elders, womens organizations, Indigenizing and decolonizing higher education 61 traditional healers, local media makers and shing and agricultural cooperatives (Hooker Blandford, 2009). URACCAN organizes its teaching programmes, departments and institutes according to Costeo aspirations and ways of knowing. Consequently, the usual boundaries between scientic and cultural approaches are less evident. Indeed, the scientic, technological and cultural are thoroughly entangled at URACCAN, and indigenous and Creole knowledges are privileged. The university offers a range of degrees including Intercultural Medicine, Intercultural Communication, Education Sciences with an endorsement in Biology, and Sociology with an endorsement in Autonomy. It also offers short courses aimed at training community leaders, some with a gender focus. URACCAN has seven research institutes whose activities and publications support the regions struggles for autonomy, cultural revitalization and intercultural communica- tion. 2 It also publishes an in-house interdisciplinary journal, Ciencia e Interculturalidad (Science and Interculturality), that is freely available on the university website. When we shared research ndings on the RAANs community media operations with a large group of mainly Miskito and Creole rst year students enrolled on the degree in Intercultural Communication in January 2009, we found them to be outspoken, engaged, articulate, and willing to share their ideas about globalization, development and culture. URACCAN is a space in which they appear to feel that their (world)views are validated and legitimated, and where it is safe to speak out. Space precludes a detailed exploration of URACCANs teaching and research programmes, but the follow- ing two sections elucidate how interculturality is materialized through work in the realms of communication and health. Intercultural communication The RAAN has an historically well established tradition of grassroots media activism that has worked in particular through participatory radio to advance community agendas and strengthen links between citizens and political leadersor to hold the latter accountable when such links are stretched thinly or broken. URACCAN has drawn on and advanced this tradition through its curricular agendas around intercultural com- munication and its establishment of the regions rst community television station, BilwiVision. BilwiVision was an initiative of URACCANs Institute of Intercultural Com- munication and produces programming in all the languages of the region. It also participates in a trans-American popular education and arts alliance known as the Viva! Project, which brings together indigenous and other community-based practitioners stretching from Canada in the North to Panama in the South. BilwiVision thus lends the voices of the region to the broader collection of processes whereby colonized peoples are speaking back from the margins, reclaiming not only their land but also diverse ways of knowing and communicating (Barndt, 2011a: 8). Indicative of its recognition that communication is core to the democratization of education, the creation of links with surrounding communities and the promotion of decolonial agendas, URACCANhas established community radio stations in areas where previously they did not exist and trained journalists within the communities on the use and management of these stations, respecting their own culture, identity, language, and cosmovision (Antonio & Armida Duarte, 2011: 126). The university has also abetted the development of digital technologies and new communication strategies for the promo- tion and diffusion of Costeo voices and perspectives through media outlets based in Nicaraguas Pacic region (Antonio & Armida Duarte, 2011: 126). Indigenous commu- nicator and intellectual, Avelino Cox, situates such praxis within the ambit of 62 Julie Cupples and Kevin Glynn decolonization, noting that the peoples of the region are trying to make a small indigenous globalization in the face of the large globalization as part of a coordinated survival strategy (Glynn &Cupples, 2011: 119). Thus, the work of BilwiVision is oriented partly toward both overcoming racist views held by many Pacic Nicaraguans and strengthening links with indigenous peoples elsewhere throughout the Americas. BilwiVision broadcasts a mix of local and imported productions. Locally generated content responds to a variety of needs throughout the region and fulls a range of purposes, including the advancement of regional democracy and cultural autonomy, the transmissionand preservationof traditional healing practices and linguistic resources, the promotion of cross-cultural interaction and understanding, the showcasing of indi- vidual communities, and the dissemination of other forms of information and entertain- ment. For example, the channel has been used for the circulation of videos produced by student lmmakers based upon traditional Miskito narratives known as the kisi nani. These stories entertain, inform and help to promote a sense of community identity and engagement, as well as facilitating intercultural dialogue around traditional cosmologies and understandings of place. For another example, the popular programme, La comunidad en su casa (The community in your home) features video ethnographies of the day-to- day lives of local communities, thus facilitating forms of translocal connectedness and solidarity and helping populations to reect upon how to present themselves to others. We believe that such developments should not be dismissed as the mere incorporation of indigenous peoples and cultures into the communication technological networks and systems of Western modernity. They are more appropriately understood in conjunction with the wider resurgence of indigenous practices, knowledges and identities that has lately played no small part in the ongoing transformation of the political cultures of the Americas through the partial displacement of dualistic, Euro-modern ontologies and the concomitant (if incomplete) emergence of glimpses, at least, of alternative modernities grounded in forms of reciprocity and relationality (see Escobar, 2010). Intercultural health Health teaching and research at URACCAN have a strong intercultural focus. Health professionals such as nurses who are trained at URACCAN learn traditional and western biomedical approaches, so they are able to draw on both when treating patients. The Institute of Traditional Medicine and Community Development (IMTRADEC) is system- atizing traditional medical knowledges so they can be shared with not only traditional healers but also doctors and other health professionals whose training has been rooted in western biomedical models. The key aim of this approach, according to Wedel (2009), is to put traditional and western medicine on an equal footing so they can collaborate with and inform one another in the provision of health care on the Coast. Indeed, the embodied experiences of everyday life on the Atlantic Coast emphasize the efcacy and importance of local knowledges for dealing with local health care needs. Many of these knowledges have spiritual or supernatural dimensions and are frequently rejected as Miskito sorcery by outsiders and western-trained scientists. The Miskito, for example, believe in supernatural creatures known as lasa, such as the wahwin, liwa, swinta and duende, who can cause harm to individuals. Some lasa play important roles in local environmental protection. For instance, the swinta protects the forest and the liwa, the creatures of the sea, discouraging people from overhunting or shing (see Fagoth et al., 1998; Dennis, 2004; Jamieson, 2009; Cupples, 2012). One major health issue on the Atlantic Coast is an epidemic known as grisi siknis (Miskitu for crazy sickness), a condition in which young women (and occasionally Indigenizing and decolonizing higher education 63 men) submit to supernatural possession by lasa or devils, and act in wild, hysterical and violent ways, running away or injuring themselves or others with machetes or other weapons. It is understood locally as a spiritual or cultural illness for which western biomedical knowledge has no response. Grisi siknis has no identiable digestive, respi- ratory or other biophysical or clinical explanation. Attacks are often successfully cured by traditional indigenous healers such as sukia using herbal medicine (for discussion, see Dennis, 1981). Research by IMTRADEC into grisi siknis, disseminated in theses, aca- demic articles and informational pamphlets, is providing important information for health professionals on how to treat attacks and enhancing the legitimacy of traditional healing in Nicaragua. 3 As Wedel (2009) notes, as a result of this research, traditional medicine is now part of Nicaraguas National Health Plan (20042015), and national health provision now includes the cosmovision of the communities (MINSA, 2004: 47f, cited in Wedel, 2009: 50). Traditional healers are sometimes brought into the hospital in Bilwi to apply treatments to patients. While Costeos are often receptive to local medicine, Pacic doctors who work on the Coast are also beginning to embrace traditional medical knowledges, despite some ongoing discomfort and opposition. At any rate, as Wedel (2009) writes, acceptance by health professionals of grisi siknis as a spiritual and collective illness constitutes a substantial challenge to the idea of the body as an individual biomedical entity that can be treated in isolation from the social world. Interculturality is therefore being materialized in hospitals, health centres and commu- nities aficted by illness. We can see what Enrique Dussel (1995: 76) might understand as a liberating transmodernity at work, in which both modernity and its negated alterity (the victims) co-realize themselves in a process of mutual creative fertilization. Practising interculturality Despite structural impediments to the expansion of professional opportunities on Nicaraguas Atlantic Coast, many URACCAN graduates are employed in NGOs and government agencies or are teaching, running their own businesses, or holding elected positions as regional and municipal councillors or mayors (Hooker Blandford, 2009). URACCAN and its students and faculty do however face a number of serious challenges, including inadequate material resources and dismissive attitudes from Pacic elites. There also continue to be many gender- and race-based forms of structural disadvantage in place, including ongoing insecurity over land rights, which make it difcult for Costeos to attend university. Mestizos and Miskitos continue to dominate faculty and student cohorts, as do Spanish and Miskitu languages, leaving Creole, Mayangna, Rama and Garfuna populations, languages and issues less well represented and researched (Dennis & Herlihy, 2003). Degree completion rates are still too low and URACCAN researchers are constantly monitoring the institutions achievements and impacts (see for example Cunningham Kain, 2002; Hooker Blandford, 2009; Garca Solrzano & Tom, 2012; Herrera Siles, 2012). Successes and setbacks notwithstanding, the mere existence of URACCAN disrupts a number of colonial and neocolonial assumptions about the region and its peoples. It challenges the assumption that indigenous and black populations are not capable of scholarly activity, or that indigenous knowledges ceased developing after contact with Europeans (Smith, 2010: 58). URACCANs intellectual production demonstrates to the rest of Nicaragua (and to the wider world beyond) that indigenous knowledges are dynamic, contested and heterogeneous, and that like Eurocentric knowledges they continue to develop, hybridize and function as sites of productive disagreement. Indeed, 64 Julie Cupples and Kevin Glynn URACCAN demonstrates to the Pacic mestizo majority that there are many ways of being Nicaraguan (Rivas, 2007). Postcolonial settings provide the rationale for the idea of alternative modernities (Gupta, 1998, quoted in Watts, 2003: 445) and a route to thinking about why local knowledges struggle to gain legitimacy or institutional support. URACCANs value stems in part from its role in the effective institutionalization and systematization of local knowledges. Just as indigenous knowledges nd (limited) spaces of expression in conventional universities, URACCAN like other intercultural universities, is not opposed to teaching and engaging with western knowledges, or to enrolling white or mestizo students or employing mestizo faculty. Indeed, URACCAN does not attempt to ignore the potential development value of western/Enlightenment thought, but instead seeks to create a space where both indigenous and non-indigenous faculty and students can encounter and reect upon different ways of knowing and on the strengths and pitfalls of different models of development. This approach is appropriate and necessary, given that Costeo cosmopolitanism has historically involved both a critical interrogation and an embrace of the capitalist world economy. There is a strong awareness on the Atlantic Coast of how the extractive economy has produced both benets and costs for the humans and nonhumans of the region. As pressures on environmental resources continue to mount, and as conventional development continues largely to fail the region, spaces for the forms of intellectual engagement URACCAN facilitates are essential. Interculturality aims to promote equitable coexistence between different cultures and ethnicities on the Coast, so that historical rivalries can be put aside and the relationship between com- peting knowledges (including those of capitalist and extractive development) that may intensify or mitigate such rivalries can be reordered. By drawing on the ancestral, embodied, experiential and everyday knowledges of Costeos, URACCAN appears to be successfully producing a highly interdisciplinary curriculum, engaging in depth with communities and policy makers, creating research that has tangible benets for stakeholders, and providing desperately needed education for marginalized socio-economic groups. These achievements form the basis of com- monly stated objectives and aspirations at many mainstream universities with long histories in Europe, the US and Australasia. Despite such histories and greater nancial resources, they often struggle to achieve the things being achieved by URACCAN in part because of the hierarchical ways in which both university governance and knowledge are increasingly organized. The neoliberal ethos enacted through vertical corporate managerialism, audit and surveillance, commodication of knowledge and the priori- tization of science (seen as both relevant and necessary) over humanities (increasingly deemed a luxury we cannot afford) sits uneasily with indigenous ontologies which tend to be based on horizontal and reciprocal solidarities, collective decision making and relational rather than instrumentalist understandings of the connections between humans and nonhumans. Not only does the neoliberal framework make the university a less welcoming place for both indigenous and non-indigenous students and faculty, it also has a potentially limiting impact on knowledge production. The subject- object divide, for example, is ubiquitous in environmental science, producing such outcomes as accounts of climate change which isolate carbon emissions from the unequal social and environmental relations upon which neoliberal globalization depends (Featherstone, 2013: 44; see also Cupples, 2012). If decolonization depends on the relational production of more ethical interdependencies (Raghuram et al., 2009), perhaps we cannot simultaneously indigenize and neoliberalize the academy. Indig- enous and intercultural universities matter in part because they offer us multiple Indigenizing and decolonizing higher education 65 decolonizing and liberatory possibilities for governance, knowledge production and ways of being in the world. One of BilwiVisions Canadian partners in the Viva! project, Barndt (2011b: 137) says the following of URACCANs work: It is hard to imagine a similar undertaking at a university in the Global Northgetting local and national ofcials, artists and university faculty members to exchange experiences and ideas about how to promote community arts within the university and surrounding communities. Yet in Nicaragua they came together for three days to do precisely thatto examine how their curriculum could recover histories, revalue cultures, catalyze critical thinking about social issues, and inspire people to create many forms of expression that strengthen cultural identity and community development. Kuokkanens (2007) concept of the indigenous gift economy is clearly at work across URACCANs diverse activities. URACCAN was born out of a collective desire to confront poverty and racism, and to strengthen the regions autonomy based on a belief that the academic systematization of knowledges that are held, practised and continuously developed in common by indigenous and ethnic communities is an effective way to meet such aspirations (Cunningham Kain, 2004). At URACCAN, the postcolonial (or decolonial) is not just another curricular choice (see Brydon, 2004: 6) but underpins everything that is done across the disciplines. Individual achievement is important and to be celebrated, but individual knowledge must be shared and given back to the community. Unlike most academic research, which is inaccessible for marginalized populations as it is published in for-prot journals and hidden behind paywalls, most of URACCANs research is freely shared online and given away to anybody with an internet connection. URACCAN can therefore shed critical light on the ways in which we organize knowledge at our own institutions. While academics in neoliberalizing universities in Europe and Australasia are debating intellectually stultifying concepts such as impact and excellence, Latin Americas intercultural universities are engaging beyond the academy and transforming national policy without need of a state-led bureaucratic procedure that exhorts them to do so. URACCANs impact includes build- ing intercultural citizenship among both students and wider communities, as well as promoting the liberation of these constituencies from the need to have white or mestizo society as an aspirational benchmark. The lack of material and nancial resources at intercultural universities such as URACCAN and more broadly in the societies around them has made it all the more necessary for them to develop innovative ways of facilitating community involvement in their practices and processes. It is of benet to us all to break away from Eurocentric ways of knowing. As Arturo Escobar (2007: 44) writes, one does not need to be an indigenous or colonized subject to occupy the locus of enunciation that the decolonial option puts forward. Instead, the decolonial option becomes a mode of thinking and articulating multiple and counterhegemonic alternatives to the logic of coloniality. As Quijano (1992) notes, European rationality based on the subject-object dichotomy is now in crisis. Geogra- phys ability to make a difference beyond the academyand to tackle what are often considered to be the disciplines most pressing questions, which include how we might cease destroying our planet and begin to provide decent life opportunities to a majority of the worlds populationdepends on us occupying an alternative locus of enuncia- tion. Neither saving the planet from destruction nor ending social and economic inequalities will be possible without advancing decolonization. The examples of grisi siknis and BilwiVision show what is possible when different kinds of knowledge become admissible and thinkable. Critical human geographers are trying to think relationally, to 66 Julie Cupples and Kevin Glynn take nonhumans seriously, and have for some time been trying to undermine the dominance of positivism within the discipline and encouraging their colleagues to take the subject matter of cultural geographiesbodies, discourses, nonhumans, the cultural politics of place, everyday lifeseriously. Embracing the decolonial option might there- fore advance our thinking and professional relationships in innovative ways. Of course, it can be difcult to know when we are occupying a decolonial locus of enunciation and thinking with the excluded otheralthough when decolonization occurs, we will know it, as it never takes place unnoticed (Fanon, 1963, cited in Tuck & Yang, 2012: 7). But as URACCAN faculty and students know, interculturality does not have nor does it require a xed denition. Interculturality is a project that is always under construction. It is advanced when we listen properly to people who are differently located in the colonial matrix of power; when we speak respectfully across cultural and intergenerational differences; when knowledge circulates multidirectionally from, between and within academic publications, community forums and workshops, inter- net, radio and television, and spaces of policymaking; when we dismantle the hierarchy between the scientic and the supernatural; and when we treat oral, televisual, non- human and written epistemologies in a non-hierarchical manner. Being engaged in the process, participating, is the basis for the construction of cultural citizenship (see Castillo & McLean, 2007 for a discussion of how such exchanges unfold). Through URACCANs work, students, academics, visitors, community members, professionals and policy makers are forced to engage in what Brydon and Dvork (2012) refer to as crosstalk, a metaphor for the productive ways in which globalization facilitates interaction between different imaginaries, pushing those involved in the encounter beyond their comfort zones and encouraging them to reect on the institutional spaces and modes of citizenship they inhabit. In such a process, new forms of critical theory become both visible and thinkable. Constructing cultural citi- zenship and engaging in crosstalk mean in part doing the following, as put forward by Miskito intellectual, Avelino Cox Molina (2003: 1112, our translation), who writes: To confront the vision of the indigenous world of the Autonomous Regions in which the everyday and the supernatural, the communal and the individual, the correct and the sym- bolic, the rational and the intuitive, the sacred, the profane and the spiritual are entangled in an intricate and indivisible manner, I had to enter a process in which the limits between the observer and the phenomenon observed become blurred and the barriers that separate the world of reason from the world of magic are broken down. This quote will sound very appealing to many critical scholars. It is important, though, not to lose sight of the fact that the purpose of critical interculturality is to promote decolonization. We must exercise great caution that it is not privileged, critical, rst world scholars who are transformed and empowered, while indigenous peoples continued to be denied their land rights, or black populations are disproportionately incarcerated and blocked from getting ahead by ingrained institutional racism. As Tuck and Yang (2012) remind us, decolonization is unsettling, as it involves indigenous sovereignty and the return of stolen lands. It is important to debate coloniality in our written work and teaching, and to admit into our institutions, knowledges and cultural practices that will complicate the ways in which research is conducted and disseminated. Postcolonial pedagogies that involve a coming to terms in the classroom with the colonial past and present can, as Brydon (2004) writes, be an unsettling and deeply uncomfortable process for those present. Such practices must not however stand in for the more uncomfortable task of relinquishing stolen land (Tuck & Yang, 2012: 19). Indigenizing and decolonizing higher education 67 Fernando Coronil (2011: 2634) states that Latin America has become a diverse fabric of collective utopian dreams in which it is now possible to engage different cosmologies. Working in a New Zealand university and spending time at URACCAN engaging with its intellectual production reveals that the era is over when development expertise could be thought to ow unidirectionally from global North to South so that Latin America might be put on what was assumed to be a singular and inevitable development trajectory dened by Europe. For us as postcolonial geographers, it is time to listen and learn so that diverse cosmologies can become part of the universities where we study, teach and research, and part of the societies in which we live. Acknowledgements This research is funded in part by the Marsden Fund of the Royal Society of New Zealand, grant number MAU1108. Endnotes 1 The CNU is Nicaraguas university coordinating, accrediting and quality assurance body. 2 These are the Institute of Natural Resources, Environment and Sustainable Development (IREMADES), Institute of Traditional Medicine and Community Development (IMTRADEC), Centre of Socio-Environmental Information (CISA), Centre for Studies and Information of the Multiethnic Woman (CEIMM), Institute of Intercultural Communication (ICI), Institute of Linguistic Promotion and Research and Cultural Revitalization (IPILC) and the Institute of Studies and Promotion of Autonomy (IEPA). 3 For examples of published research into grisi siknis conducted at URACCAN, see Comisin de Salud de la RAAN, 1996; Rupilius, 1998; Carrasco et al., 2000; Wilson, 2001; Davis et al., 2005; Espinoza & McDavis, 2006. References Anderson M (2009) Black and Indigenous: Garifuna Activism and Consumer Culture in Honduras. University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis. Andolina R, Laurie N, Radcliffe S (2009) Indigenous Development in the Andes: Culture, Power, and Transnationalism. Duke University Press, Durham, NC. Antonio M, Armida Duarte R (2011) With our images, voices, and cultures: BilwiVisiona community television channel. In Barndt D (ed) Viva! Community Arts and Popular Education in the Americas, 12631. SUNY Press, Albany. Aronowitz S (2001) The Knowledge Factory: Dismantling the Corporate University and Creating True Higher Learning. Beacon Press, Boston. Barndt D (2011a) Introduction: Rooted in place, politics, passion, and praxis. In Barndt D (ed) Viva! Community Arts and Popular Education in the Americas, 118. SUNY Press, Albany. Barndt D (2011b) Epilogue: Critical hope. In Barndt D (ed) Viva! Community Arts and Popular Education in the Americas, 1328. SUNY Press, Albany. Blunt A, McEwan C (eds) (2002) Postcolonial Geographies. Continuum, New York. Brydon D (2004) Cross-talk, postcolonial pedagogy and transnational literacy. In Sugars C (ed) Home-Work: Postcolonialism, Pedagogy and Canadian Literature, 5774. University of Ottawa Press, Ottawa. Brydon D, Dvork M (2012) Introduction: Negotiating meaning in changing times. In Brydon D, Dvork M (eds) Crosstalk: Canadian and Global Imaginaries in Dialogue, 120. Wilfred Laurier University Press, Waterloo. Byrd JA, Rothberg M (2011) Introduction: Between subalternity and indigeneity. Interventions 13 (1), 112. 68 Julie Cupples and Kevin Glynn Carrasco J, Cuadra P, Dennis PA, Muller M (2000) Las maestras de Luxemburgo: Una nueva cara de Grisi Siknis? Occasional paper. URACCAN, Bilwi, IMTRADEC. Castillo C, McLean G (2007) Sistematizacin de Buenas Prcticas en Materia de Educacin Ciudadana Intercultural para los Pueblos Indgenas de Amrica Latina en Contextos de Pobreza. RIDEI, Lima. Comisin de Salud de la RAAN (1996) El modelo de salud de la Regin Autnoma del Atlntico Norte. URACCAN, Managua. Coronil F (2011) The future in question: History and utopia in Latin America (19892010). In Calhoun C, Derlugian G (eds) Business as Usual: The Roots of the Global Financial Meltdown, 23164. New York University Press and SSRC, New York. Cox Molina A (2003) Sukias y Curanderos: Isingni en la Espiritualidad. URACCAN, Managua. Cunningham Kain M (2002) Universidad de las Regiones Autnomas de la Costa Caribe Nicaragense URACCAN: Evolucin, Tendencias y Principales Caractersticas de la Educacin Superior en Nicaragua a partir de la Experiencia de URACCAN. UNESCO-IESALC, Guatemala. Cunningham Kain M (2004) Educacin Superior Indgena en Nicaragua. Caracas, Instituto Internacional de la UNESCO para la Educacin Superior en Amrica Latina y el Caribe (UNESCO-IESALC). Available at: www.unesco.org.ve (accessed 1 June 2013). Cunningham Kain M (2006) Racism and Ethnic Discrimination in Nicaragua. Centro para la Autonoma y Desarrollo de los Pueblos Indgenas, Bilwi. Cupples J (2012) Wild globalization: The biopolitics of climate change and global capitalism on Nicaraguas Mosquito Coast. Antipode: A Journal of Radical Geography 44 (1), 1030. Davis S, Marley S, Trbswasser G (2005) Algo anda mal: El Bla o Wakni en el Ro Coco. (Occasional Paper). IMTRADEC. URACCAN, Bilwi. Dennis P (1981) Grisi siknis among the Miskito. Medical Anthropology 5 (4), 445505. Dennis P (2004) The Miskitu People of Awastara. University of Texas Press, Austin. Dennis PA, Herlihy LH (2003) Higher education on Nicaraguas multicultural Atlantic Coast. Cultural Survival Quarterly 27 (4), n.p. Dussel E (1995) Eurocentrism and modernity (Introduction to the Frankfurt lectures). In Beverley J, Oviedo J, Aronna M (eds) The Postmodernism Debate in Latin America, 6576. Duke University Press, Durham, NC. Escobar A (2007) Worlds and knowledges otherwise. Cultural Studies 21 (23), 179210. Escobar A (2010) Latin America at a crossroads. Cultural Studies 24 (1), 165. Espinoza S, McDavis P (2006) Gua de atencin y prevencin del Grisi Siknis. Pamphlet. URACCAN, Bilwi. Fagoth R, Gioanetto F, Silva A (1998) Wan Kaina Kulkaia/Armonizando con Nuestro Entorno. Impri- matur Artes Grcas, Managua. Fanon F (1963) The Wretched of the Earth. Grove Press, New York. Featherstone D (2013) The contested politics of climate change and the crisis of neo-liberalism. ACME: An International E-Journal for Critical Geographies 12 (1), 4464. Garca Solrzano A, Tom E (2012) Eciencia terminal en programas de licenciatura, URACCAN Bilwi, 19952005. Ciencia e Interculturalidad 5 (1), 7286. Galeano E (1973) The Open Veins of Latin America: Five Centuries of the Pillage of a Continent, trans. Belfrage C. Monthly Review Press, New York. Gilmartin M, Berg L (2007) Locating postcolonialism. Area 39 (1), 1204. Glynn K, Cupples J (2011) Indigenous mediaspace and the production of (trans)locality on Nicaraguas Mosquito Coast. Television & New Media, 12 (2), 10135. Gooder H, Jacobs JM (2002) Belonging and non-belonging: the apology in a reconciling nation. In Blunt A, McEwan C (eds) Postcolonial Geographies, 20013. Continuum, New York. Grosfoguel R (2007) The epistemic decolonial turn: Beyond political-economy paradigms. Cultural Studies 21 (23), 21123. Grosfoguel R (2011) Decolonizing post-colonial studies and paradigms of political economy: transmodernity, decolonial thinking and global coloniality. Transmodernity: Journal of Peripheral Cultural Production of the Luso-Hispanic World 1 (1), n.p. Gupta A (1998) Postcolonial Development. Duke University Press, Durham, NC. Indigenizing and decolonizing higher education 69 Hawley S (1997) Protestantism and indigenous mobilisation: the Moravian Church among the Miskitu Indians of Nicaragua. Journal of Latin American Studies 29 (1), 11129. Herrera Siles S del C (2012) Acceso y permanencia a la educacin superior de mujeres indgenas mayangnas, URACCAN Las Minas, 20092010. Ciencia e Interculturalidad 5 (1), 4157. Hooker Blandford AS (2009) La Universidad de las Regiones Autnomas de la Costa Caribe Nicaragense (URACCAN): Logros, innovaciones y desafos. In Mato D (ed) Institutciones Interculturales de Educacin Superior en Amrica Latina. Procesos de Construccin, Logros, Innovaciones y Desafos, 279302. UNESCO-IESALC, Caracas. Jamieson M (2009) Contracts with Satan: Relations with spirit owners and apprehensions of the economy among the coastal Miskitu of Nicaragua. Durham Anthropology Journal 16 (2), 4453. Kuokkanen R (2007) Reshaping the University: Responsibility, Indigenous Epistemes, and the Logic of the Gift. UBC Press, Vancouver. Mahuika N (2011) Closing the gaps: from postcolonialism to kaupapa Ma ori and beyond. New Zealand Journal of History 45 (1), 1532. Mato D (2011) Universidades indgenas de Amrica Latina: Logros, problemas y desafos. Revista Andaluza de Antropologa 1, 6385. McEwan C (2009) Postcolonialism and Development. Routledge, London. Mignolo WD (2000) Local Histories/Global Designs: Coloniality, Subaltern Knowledges and Border Think- ing. Princeton University Press, Princeton. Mignolo WD (2005) The Idea of Latin America. Blackwell, Malden, MA. Mignolo WD (2007) Introduction: Coloniality of power and decolonial thinking. Cultural Studies 21 (23), 15567. Mignolo WD (2010) Introduction: Immigrant consciousness. In R. Kusch, Indigenous and Popular Thinking in Amrica, trans Lugones M, Price JM, xiiiliv. Duke University Press, Durham, NC. Mignolo WD, Tlostanova M (2008) The logic of coloniality and the limits of postcoloniality. In Krishnaswamy R, Hawley JC (eds) The Postcolonial and the Global, 10923. University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis. Neweld C (2008) Unmaking the Public University: The Forty Year Assault on the Middle Class. Harvard University Press, Cambridge. Pihama LE (2001) Thei Mauri Ora: Honouring Our Voices: Mana wahine as a kaupapa Maori (PhD dissertation). Department of Education, University of Auckland. Postrero NG, Zamosc L (eds) (2004) The Struggle for Indigenous Rights in Latin America. Sussex Academic Press, Eastborne. Quijano A (1992) Colonialidad y modernidad/racionalidad. Per Indgena 13 (29), 1120. Quijano A (2007) Coloniality and modernity/rationality. Cultural Studies 21 (23), 16878. Raghuram P, Madge C, Noxolo P (2009) Rethinking responsibility and care for a postcolonial world. Geoforum 40 (1), 513. Readings B (1996) The University in Ruins. Harvard University Press, Cambridge. Rivas A (2007) Formar profesionales costeos competentes que son parte de la nueva intelectualidad costea fue uno de los principals aportes del CIDCA en la dcada de los ochenta: Entrevista con Galio Gurdin. WANI: Revista del Caribe Nicaragense 51, 1017. Rupilius HP (1998) Grisi Siknis. Un caso de histeria colectiva en la RAAN: Interpretacin de las causas (Masters dissertation). Institute of Traditional Medicine and Community Development, URACCAN. Salazar JF, Crdova A (2008) Imperfect media and the poetics of indigenous videomkaing in Latin America. In Wilson P, Stewart M (eds) Global Indigenous Media: Cultures, Poetics, and Politics, 3957. Duke University Press, Durham, NC. Sharp J (2008) Geographies of Postcolonialism. Sage, London. Sharp J, Briggs J (2006) Postcolonialism and development:new dialogues? Geographical Journal 172 (1), 69. Smith CW (1994) Kimihia te maramatanga: Colonisation and iwi development (Masters disserta- tion). Department of Education, University of Auckland. 70 Julie Cupples and Kevin Glynn Smith LT (1992) Ko taku ko ta te Maori: The dilemma of a Maori academic. In Smith GH, Hohepa MK (eds) (1992) Creating Space in Institutional Settings for Maori: Keynote Symposium, 120. University of Auckland Research Unit for Maori Education, Auckland. Smith LT (2010) Decolonizing Methodologies: Research and Indigenous Peoples, 2nd edition. Sage, London. Surez-Krabbe J (2009) Introduction: Coloniality of knowledge and epistemologies of transforma- tion. Kult 6, 19. Tuck E, Yang KW (2012) Decolonization is not a metaphor. Decolonization: Indigeneity, Education and Society 1 (1), 140. URACCAN (n.d.) Universidad de las Regiones Autnomas de la Costa Caribe Nicaragense. Avail- able at: www.uraccan.edu.ni (accessed 1 June 2013). Walsh C (2007) Shifting the geopolitics of critical knowledge. Cultural Studies 21 (23), 22439. Watts M (2003) Alternative modernDevelopment as cultural geography. In Anderson K, Domosh M, Pile S, Thrift N (eds) The Handbook of Cultural Geography, 43351. Sage, London. Wedel J (2009) Bridging the gap between western and indigenous medicine in Eastern Nicaragua. Anthropological Notebooks 15 (1), 4964. Wilson AI (2001) Grisi Siknis entre los miskitos de Krin Krin, Ro Coco. URACCAN, Bilwi. Yashar DJ (2005) Contesting Citizenship in Latin America: The Rise of Indigenous Movements and the Postliberal Challenge. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. Indigenizing and decolonizing higher education 71