Anacaona Read online

  HALF MOON, DAY 8

  Caonabó is once again performing his usual duties, overseeing the morning and evening meals, meeting with his subchiefs, and appointing planting, hunting, and fishing duties to the people in his village. Watching him carry out his role as chief, I feel as though I am watching my uncle as a younger man. I have had no unfavorable news of Matunherí, but no favorable word, either.

  HALF MOON, DAY 9

  Though Caonabó’s advisers and servants show much respect, no one shows friendliness toward me. It is as if friendliness, which I am in need of most, is beyond my stature.

  From sunrise to sunset today, while Caonabó fished and hunted, I remained alone in my hammock, resting while staring at the thatch above my head. Not that I didn’t know this before, but my suddenly empty days are reminding me that to be the wife of the cacique is not at all the same as being the cacica.

  HALF MOON, DAY 10

  While lying in my hammock, I suddenly craved the taste of a guava and asked one of the servants to bring me one from a tree. A pile of guavas as tall as myself was brought to the front of the house. This is what it is to be Caonabó’s wife. Every one of my desires can be realized immediately.

  Caonabó has been training with his warriors. He instructs them regularly to prepare for Kalina attacks. When he is not away training, hunting, or performing some other duty, Caonabó and I are always surrounded by so many people — his servants, my servants, the messengers, the merchants, the counselors, the subchiefs, the healers, of which he has several. I suppose this was also true in Matunherí’s household, though I had grown accustomed to it and never noticed it at all.

  FULL MOON, DAY 11

  I asked Caonabó if I could accompany him on a hunt and he said yes without hesitation. He was surprised by my skill with a spear, which I learned from my grandmother’s old warriors. I could have killed many creatures, but only a small pheasant was sacrificed for my desire to show how accurately I can reach my aim. I am now also welcome to train with the warriors and I shall, as much as Caonabó does.

  FULL MOON, DAY 12

  A few more women have joined me in the hunt with Caonabó and his group. They are some of the most important women in our village. Simihena has been too taken with her duties to come and see me. Though I could command that she come and keep me company, this is no way to make and keep a friend.

  I now have my own hunting dog, a gift from Caonabó. It is a beautiful dog with fur the color of sand. It snarls, but does not bark, which makes it easier for it to approach and catch its prey. It is well trained, as it was bred for Caonabó himself. At times, I hunt alone for my own pleasure, but for only as much meat as we can use.

  FULL MOON, DAY 13

  Caonabó and I are talking more and more, and slowly the large groups around us are disappearing at dusk. I told Caonabó about my desire to work with Simihena and some of the other carvers in Maguana and he said I should take charge of all such work in Maguana. Touching my chin, he said, “Golden Flower, all of Maguana is yours. You must only be willing to have it.”

  FULL MOON, DAY 14

  While Caonabó and Bayahibe were fishing, I finally gave in and sent for Simihena and she came. I cannot force her to be my friend; I simply needed to see her. I discovered something else that Simihena and I share. She loves to dance and with a large group of girls performs at feasts and ceremonies. I agreed to sing some ballads for her girls and she asked me to think of some new shapes for the carvers. We will be working together now. After she left, I stared at the ground for hours, waiting for some carving patterns to emerge like flowers out of the soil.

  LAST QUARTER MOON, DAY 15

  Last night I had a dream that involved the sun. This is the first time I have ever dreamt about the sun. In my dream the sun had a face with eyes and a mouth, which it used to speak to me. “Look upon the earth,” it said, “everything is there.”

  I spent the day looking at the earth. What secrets have the ancestors hidden for me in the earth of Maguana?

  LAST QUARTER MOON DAY 16

  Fade, full moon,

  As Anacaona’s new life glows.

  If there is joy to be found here,

  Let her find it.

  If there is pain,

  Let her endure it.

  If there is love,

  Give her all there is.

  And as the moon is made new

  So will she.

  LAST QUARTER MOON, DAY 17

  I wanted to sing my new ballad for Simihena, but I did not want her to think I am unhappy. There are moments when I feel great joy here, sitting at Caonabó’s side at the meals or talking to Simihena and the other women, who are slowly getting accustomed to my presence. But at other times, I also miss Baba, Bibi, Behechio, and my uncle so much. It is as if there is a large, empty space in me, a dark star that neither sun can light, nor moon shade, nor Caonabó with his kindness and love blot out.

  LAST QUARTER MOON, DAY 19

  I have new shapes for the carvers. I was staring at my shadow on the ground when it came to me. Why not carve ourselves? Simihena will carve Simihena. I will carve Anacaona. I will carve my memories of my ancestors. The Night Marchers. My grandmother. I will also carve the living people who are missing from my life: Bibi and Baba and my uncle and even Behechio. I will carve them with my own hands. I will carve them the way the lightning carved Simihena’s stone. (For why shouldn’t our work be as beautiful as nature’s?) I will carve Caonabó’s strong and handsome image. I will carve images of caves, of the way our world was created. And in addition to all that, I will make ceremonial chairs, effigy vessels, ceramic flasks, bowls, graters, scepters, baskets, headdresses, pendants, stone collars, all with images of frogs, fish, and birds carved into them. Nothing will be carved in Maguana that will not bear the mark of Anacaona’s heart or hand.

  FIRST QUARTER MOON, DAY 1

  The smell of roasting peanuts fills the air. I never thought I could find such beauty in something so small — the coarse, furrowed shell the same tint as pale gold. The fragile, reddish brown skin and the seed itself, bronzed by the dark soil. I feel as though this harvest is just for me, for I have eaten so many of these marvels in so many different ways: raw, roasted, ground into a paste that can almost keep the mouth from moving.

  I grow fatter with each mouthful, but have continued my usual activities and have even added new tasks to my days. I now write a ballad with every passing moon and feel free to sing them not only when I am alone but also for my Caonabó and Simihena, and I sing them while I fish or hunt, or carve, spin cotton fibers into cloth, or make necklaces.

  FIRST QUARTER MOON, DAY 2

  A messenger came from Xaraguá with accounts from Matunherí and Behechio. Matunherí is well, remarkably, and Behechio has as many wives now as I have fingers and toes. Baba and Bibi would like to visit Maguana. I have al-ready sent the messenger with one of our best ships for them.

  Caonabó has been stirring in his sleep. It seems as if something is troubling him in his dreams that even he is not aware of. When he wakes up, I ask him what it is that he saw in the night, but he cannot remember.

  I envy Caonabó his dreams. Mine come less and less often, though it is possible that, like him, I see things at night that vanish in the air at dawn.

  FIRST QUARTER MOON, DAY 3

  Manicaotex, Caonabó’s brother, from the Magua region, has come to visit. Since Caonabó’s parents are long dead, the two are mother and father as well as brothers to each other. We had a feast for Manicaotex and I sang several of my ballads and danced for him. How I envy Manicaotex and Caonabó! They are so loving and so loyal to each other. Though the regions they occupy are separate, they are one.

  FIRST QUARTER MOON, DAY 4

  Manicaotex and Caonabó had a mock battle in the plaza at dawn. When others are watching, they usually swing their sticks in a vigorous manner. But this time no one was there (they didn’t even know that I was), and they were encouraging and instructing each other in such a wa
y that it was truly moving to observe. Seeing the sun slowly rise above their heads as they continued to train each other in this manner, I wished Manicaotex were always with us so that I would always have a moment such as this to wake up to.

  HALF MOON, DAY 5

  Already, Manicaotex has left. Caonabó seemed so happy when he was here. He was like a child at play. They hunted and fished and fought mock battles, both alone and in front of others. They also spoke of the affairs of their territory, of better defenses against the Kalinas, and of trade relations and other matters.

  HALF MOON, DAY 6

  While carving with Simihena and the other women today, I raised my head to watch a cloud pass above us, a cloud that was blocking out the sun. When I lowered my head, I saw among the shadows in the ground two sets of footprints, one very large and the other very small. And it returned, this sensation I have sometimes that I am receiving a message from someplace far, farther than the reach of my feet, from the land of the opia.

  I pointed at the ground and asked Simihena if she saw the footprints, but once the cloud had passed over and the sunshine returned, only the bright red buds of the annattos remained.

  HALF MOON, DAY 7

  My beloved uncle has died. The messenger has just arrived with word of his passing from the land of the living to the ancestral world. Caonabó and I are soon to leave for Xaraguá.

  HALF MOON, DAY 8

  I find it hard to sleep at sea on my painful journey back to Xaraguá. Maybe I’m not at all a person of the sea, as I once thought.

  Caonabó rests peacefully, as though he were being cradled by the waves. His black birds of peril ruffle in their cages. The flapping of their enclosed wings makes me even sadder. I look up at the stars and I know there is an additional one in the heavens — Matunherí guiding us back to him for our last farewell. Still, I feel as though there is part of the sea in my belly, for my stomach churns as much as the waters themselves. Could it be my sadness for Matunherí? My dread at seeing the sadness in Bibi’s and Baba’s faces? My worry that once I reach Xaraguá I will not want to leave it again?

  HALF MOON, DAY 9

  We have arrived in Xaraguá. Behechio greeted us at the shore. Seeing him and meeting his newest wives, none of whom have yet produced an heir, I remember that I am here not only for Matunherí’s farewell but to see Behechio named the new cacique of Xaraguá.

  Bibi is inconsolable. Baba tried to comfort her as they guided Caonabó and me to the temple to greet my lifeless uncle. Next to Matunherí sat Guamayto, who was waiting to say good-bye to us before taking the potion that would allow her to join Matunherí forever. Without question, I would do the same for Caonabó, die and be buried with him if necessary, but I was still too pained to touch Guamayto’s hand, knowing that she would soon be limp, covered in vegetable fibers, and wrapped tightly within a hammock, like Matunherí.

  “Be brave, Guamayto,” I whispered, fighting back my tears.

  “He would be so lost in the next life without me,” she said calmly.

  “He would be,” I said. “Look after him well and make sure the road is clear for us when our time comes.”

  I could not bear to stay and watch Guamayto swallow the potion that would also take her from us. So I walked out until I heard Bibi shout, “Guamayto is with him now.”

  HALF MOON, DAY 10

  Matunherí and Guamayto were buried behind the temple, with their heads facing the sea. We squeezed as many quartz beads as we could into their hands and placed the shell of a freshwater turtle between their legs. We filled their burial plots with their amulets, Matunherí’s effigies, and ceremonial axes and chairs. Even the pipes he enjoyed so much were buried with him and Guamayto. We also placed water-filled gourds near their heads and buried them with plenty of cassava bread for their nourishment in the next life. Ballads were sung to honor Matunherí’s rule at a feast in the plaza. At the same feast, Behechio was named supreme chief of Xaraguá.

  The sadness of Matunherí’s passing was too much to bear. During Behechio’s feast, my eyelids grew heavy and my body felt limp and I lost consciousness. When I woke up, I was lying in Bibi’s house with Caonabó and Behechio and Bayaci and two of Behechio’s healers around me.

  “I thought I had died like Matunherí and Guamayto,” I said.

  “Anacaona is not dead,” Bayaci said. “She is with child.”

  FULL MOON, DAY 11

  Anacaona is with child! The word was passed from mouth to mouth in the room and later outside in the plaza, at the feast. As with our ancestors’ lives, in our lives, too, joy and sadness are often intertwined. As with my vision of the two sets of footsteps in the sand, both Matunherí’s large feet and my little child’s small ones are walking the same path, but in different directions.

  FULL MOON, DAY 12

  Caonabó is extremely happy about our child. The life that lies ahead has relieved some of my own sadness about Matunherí. Pondering the new life lessens some of the pain of leaving Xaraguá. I wish Behechio well, as I know Matunherí would want me to. The future in me wishes him well, too.

  FULL MOON, DAY 13

  Bibi and Baba are not returning with me to Maguana. They want to stay to help Behechio, to counsel him in his new role. I want to tell them that I need them just as much as Behechio does. All his life Behechio has been trained to rule Xaraguá. I, too, had been trained to rule Xaraguá, but I have no training on becoming a mother.

  FULL MOON, DAY 14

  Before we left Xaraguá, Behechio called for Caonabó to discuss their new relations as chiefs. Caonabó insisted that I be present as well. Behechio appeared quite sure of himself as he spoke.

  “Xaraguá will not be weakened,” he said, “she will be strengthened with my rule.”

  He spoke in such a forceful and persuasive manner that I couldn’t help but be very proud of him.

  “No matter who or what comes, we will stand by your side,” Caonabó added. “Your enemies will be our enemies. We know how to fight and we will fight them.”

  This was just the type of assurance Behechio was looking for.

  LAST QUARTER MOON, DAY 16

  I am still unable to sleep at sea on the return journey to Maguana. But now I know why my belly churns. Caonabó does not sleep, either, but remains awake with me. We watch the stars together, looking for a wink from our little dwarf star who will soon join us here on the ground.

  FIRST QUARTER MOON, DAY 1

  The time is quickly approaching when my child will be born. Caonabó thinks it will be a boy. I believe it will be a girl. I have the judgment of the soothsayers on my side. They believe the same as I do. They say they can tell by the shape of my belly. It is round and high, like a full moon.

  I no longer have the strength to do anything but rest.

  FIRST QUARTER MOON, DAY 2

  I am too tired to record much anymore. I lie in my hammock and wait for “my daughter’s” arrival, making promises to the heavens and the ancestors and the stars, promises of gifts and offerings, should all go well.

  I feel as though everything about me has grown, not simply the size of my body and the length of my hair. My vision has become sharper. I can hear and smell things from great distances. All this, even as each step has become harder to take.

  HALF MOON, DAY 6

  Bibi and Baba have come to visit. They bring word of Behechio now having even more wives, no child, but, like me, one on its way. It will be especially wonderful to have Bibi present for the birth of my little one.

  HALF MOON, DAY 9

  Simihena is here, too. She and Bibi and Baba have become great friends. Baba has counseled Simihena on carvings much more than I have been able to of late.

  FULL MOON, DAY 12

  She has arrived, my little one, my wonder of wonders. Just as I thought, she is a girl. We have named her Higuamota, after Caonabó’s mother.

  FULL MOON, DAY 13

  Our Higuamota entrances Caonabó. It is as though he had never seen a child before. I think of Nah
e and I shiver at all that can threaten a little life. I nearly want to weep, watching Higuamota’s face rest in Bibi’s hands. Everything I do now will be to shield and guard her precious life.

  FULL MOON, DAY 14

  Caonabó ordered a feast for Higuamota. At the feast he announced her name to all the villagers. The name was received very well.

  She rarely cries, my Higuamota. Even when Bibi and Baba left us and returned to Xaraguá, she kept quiet as she watched me sob suddenly after seeing their canoe sail away.

  Though I have had less time and strength to record every moment of my joy as well as all the new ballads I plan to write and the new shapes for carvings that she has inspired in me, I will always remember this season as my Higuamota season. Each time a full moon comes, it will always remind me of the one under which she was born.

  LAST QUARTER MOON, DAY 20

  This morning, my sadness is renewed at the memory of Bibi and Baba returning to Xaraguá. But at least they have promised to come back often to see us and watch Higuamota grow. To look into Bibi and Baba’s eyes and my daughter’s at the same time has made me so happy. Soon after they left, a messenger brought us word. Behechio is a father. At last, he has a son, whom he has named Guarocuyá.