Anacaona Page 8
FIRST QUARTER MOON, DAY 1
The leaves flitter above our heads like birds ready to take flight. When the wind blows through the trees, it sounds as if nature is taking turns whispering and shouting. The fields sway; the flowers rise and fall, confusing the bees that usually feed from their blossoms.
Of course, Higuamota loves all this. Caonabó and I take her to a field where she can see and feel the heart of it, as though it is happening not only around her but to her.
She does not understand it all yet — the force of the breeze as it swells into a gusty draft and the calm that follows once it flattens — yet she likes it. We can tell by her broad smile. She extends her little hands as though to touch what it is not possible to touch: the air moving back and forth; the shriek of her father’s birds from high above the clouds. Caonabó and I are always so glad to see it: our little one announcing herself to the birds and the wind with one joyous laugh.
FIRST QUARTER MOON, DAY 2
Chief Guacanagarí, cacique of the Marién region, has come to visit. He was not trying to reach Maguana, but his ship was thrown off course by the winds while he was on a trade journey to the Higüey region.
Of all the regions of Quisquera, Marién has been the most frequently attacked by the Kalinas. Chief Guacanagarí took advantage of being with us to ask what he should do.
For an older man, Chief Guacanagarí is quite pleasant to look at. He has a solid build, sturdy and robust, is long-limbed and supple. He knows many old ballads, and tells stories about dead caciques, droll tales that make us laugh. He also spent a lot of time playing with Higuamota, who he says he’d like to marry to one of his sons when she is older. Still, Caonabó reminds me that Chief Guacanagarí is desperate and deeply concerned about attacks upon himself and his people, and his friendliness should never be regarded as loyalty.
FIRST QUARTER MOON, DAY 3
Chief Guacanagarí and Caonabó have been by the sea from sunrise to sunset speaking to the ancestors and to each other. Chief Guacanagarí is quite distressed about the situation with the Kalinas. They have raided his territory more times than it has rained there, he said.
Caonabó has offered to go to Chief Guacanagarí’s region to help train his people to fight, an offer gladly accepted by Chief Guacanagarí. Caonabó will have to make good on this promise soon.
Whenever Caonabó goes to Chief Guacanagarí’s territory, I will go with him. For the Marién is a region I have always wanted to know better. When we go, we will leave our Higuamota with Simihena, who is quite fond of her.
FIRST QUARTER MOON, DAY 4
The seas are a bit calmer now, so Chief Guacanagarí has left. He reminded Caonabó of his promise to him before his departure, and Caonabó said that he’d soon send word to Chief Guacanagarí about coming to Marién.
After Chief Guacanagarí left, Caonabó once again began training with his own men, and Simihena, Higuamota, and I went to a special stream in the mountains, the warm waters of which are said to have all kinds of healing properties, especially for children.
Higuamota’s body and mind grow a bit more every day. In the stream, she looked me right in the face and whispered “Bibi” for the first time. Oh, how I love her, my Higuamota! I didn’t think it was possible to love someone this way, with all one’s heart and soul. It is the same way I love her father, the way — I fully understand now — that Bibi and Baba must love Behechio and me.
FIRST QUARTER MOON, DAY 5
I have finally learned the source of Caonabó’s fascination with birds. One of his servants, an old Kalina woman named Marahay, who’s been looking after Caonabó since the day he was born, explained it to me. By chance, I asked her if Caonabó had loved birds since he was a boy, and she said when he was young his mother had told him about our ancestor Mácocael who had been locked out of the cave from which we all originally came and had been transformed into stone. Then she told me a part of the story I hadn’t known. After Mácocael had become stone, the sun transformed him into a nightingale. From the moment he’d heard that story, Caonabó decided that all birds were wonderful and perfect.
HALF MOON, DAY 6
I am intrigued by Marahay. She is a Kalina living among Taínos, yet she is not our enemy. Marahay’s story is quite interesting. When she was a girl, she was captured by Caonabó’s father during a raid on her village.
Usually it is Kalina men who capture Taíno women during raids, so most Kalina women and children speak our language and the Kalina men speak a separate language. However, Caonabó’s father had wanted to show the Kalinas that Taíno men were as strong as they were. He and his men had attempted a raid on Marahay’s village, but they had only come away with Marahay, then a young servant in the household of a village warlord. Unhappy where she was, Marahay had willingly surrendered to them. Thanks to Marahay, Caonabó has learned many of the Kalinas’ ways, and it is because of her that he has been able to protect his people against them. Since she was raised in the household of a warlord, Marahay knows the Kalinas’ warrior language, Galibi, which she taught Caonabó as he was growing up.
I asked Marahay to teach me a few Galibi words to use in a ballad. I have hated the Kalinas for so long that I would like the words to help soften my heart, even if just a little. I also asked her to explain some of the Kalinas’ customs and she told me how the Kalinas saw in their rainbows a serpent god they named Joulouca. She described how before they raided our territories, the men would cover their bodies with animal fat and ashes so they couldn’t be seen in the dark. They also strung the teeth and bones of their victims into necklaces, which they wore as a sign of their prowess.
Marahay cooked me some meat stewed in hot peppers and manioc juice, a dish the Kalinas call pepper pot. She weaved me one basket as wide as a headdress and another as large as a winnowing tray, both in the simple style of the Kalinas. When Caonabó returned from the hunt, he joked that Marahay was trying to make me into a Kalina woman, but he ate heartily from the savory pepper pot Marahay had prepared and cradled Higuamota in one of Marahay’s baskets.
I want Higuamota to know all the Kalinas’ ways, in case we still have the Kalinas to fear when she becomes a woman.
HALF MOON, DAY 7
Today while Marahay and the other servants looked after Higuamota, I went to war training with Caonabó. Since I am so interested in the Kalinas’ method of warfare, Caonabó showed me how they burn chili peppers to blind their enemies with stinging smoke when they enter a village. I could barely keep myself from clawing my eyes as we ran through the peppered smoke with only our fingers to shield our faces. What’s worse, we had to attempt our escape even as our fighters, acting as Kalinas, threw poisoned arrows at us. I am lucky to have survived the training. Or as Caonabó would say, I survived because I am well trained. The more I escape harm during these exercises, the better I want to be. For Maguana, for myself, for my daughter, I want to be a true warrior.
HALF MOON, DAY 8
Last night, I dreamt that Joulouca, the Kalinas’ rainbow god, split into several bands and scattered into pieces on the ground. One of the pieces fell in my hammock and grew into a rope, slithered up my body, and wrapped itself around my neck. At first it only tickled my gullet, but then its grip grew tighter, until I could hardly breathe. I reached up to pull it from my neck, but felt nothing there but air.
I woke up gasping for breath. In the dark, I stumbled around, looking for Caonabó and Higuamota. Both were sleeping peacefully. When I stepped outside, there was no rainbow in the dark sky, just the moon and a few stars, preparing their escape before dawn. One of the stars suddenly plunged from the clouds, landing somewhere far away.
HALF MOON, DAY 9
I described my dream to Caonabó and he thinks that the things Marahay has been telling me are taking up too much space in my head. Perhaps he is right. I have never thought of rainbows as menacing before. Now I will never be able to look at one in the same way — and I certainly won’t even think of pointing a finger at one now.
I couldn’t sleep last night. I was so worried the rainbow serpent would come and choke me that I couldn’t close my eyes. I held Higuamota all night, rocking her in my hammock and singing ballads in her ears. She is such a peaceful creature. Was I ever as tranquil and gentle as she seems? Was there a time when my nights were free of all but pleasant meditations? I also thought of Behechio’s son. I must plan a trip to see him, to hold him in my arms and rock him, too. I want Higuamota to meet him and love him, to play with him the way I played with Behechio when he was a boy.
FULL MOON, DAY 11
I carved a wooden rainbow with Simihena and the other women today. We painted it with vegetable dyes and left it out under a tree to dry. This painted rainbow serpent is my peace offering to the Kalinas’ rainbow god, Joulouca. Maybe now he will befriend me and leave my dreams alone.
FULL MOON, DAY 12
Manicaotex sent a messenger with an odd word. Three ships filled with men with pale skins have landed on the shores of Marién, the region where Guacanagarí rules. Caonabó listened closely to the messenger, then began laughing. I myself found nothing to laugh at in this message. Disturbed by his great fear of the Kalinas, perhaps Chief Guacanagarí had heard the Night Marchers beating their drums and had seen the shadows of their dimmed torches on their slow march toward the sea, Caonabó said. But as Manicaotex’s messenger told it, these creatures had walked out of and not into Chief Guacanagarí’s seas.
Caonabó kept laughing as he listened to the messenger. I was not amused. Besides, if Chief Guacanagarí had seen the Night Marchers so clearly, wouldn’t he be dead?
Caonabó sent Manicaotex’s messenger away with word to his brother to tell Chief Guacanagarí to stop inhaling so much tobacco that he would mistake the phantoms induced by his trances for true beings.
FULL MOON, DAY 13
Things grow stranger still. Behechio sent a messenger with the same message as Manicaotex. Behechio’s messenger, however, carried a few more details. Chief Guacanagarí has befriended these pale men, has fed and entertained them, offering them many gifts, as if they were esteemed visitors. These men, too, have offered Chief Guacanagarí gifts of small pieces of hide and metals and clear beads. Behechio’s message signals that we must take these accounts seriously. Caonabó will leave for Marién soon and I plan to go with him.
FULL MOON, DAY 14
I have never seen Caonabó appear afraid before. My fearless warrior has been in the temple all day, speaking to the ancestors. These men, could they be kin to the Kalinas? Or are they a new type of warrior? They do not sound fierce like the Kalinas. Perhaps they are traders from distant lands. Do they have navels? Do they wish us well or are they here to harm us?
FULL MOON, DAY 15
The sea was too rough today, so we could not start for Marién. No other messengers have come, perhaps also because of the sea. I will leave Higuamota in the care of Simihena when we are able to travel. Knowing now that I will be with Caonabó on his journey, I join him in the temple and ask for guidance not only from his forebears but from mine, too, especially my grandmother who, during her time on Earth, had dreamt that men with skins as white as air would come to Quisqueya.
LAST QUARTER MOON, DAY 16
The pale men have reached our shores. We were awakened at dawn by clamorous voices like none I have ever heard and the sight of men unlike any I have ever seen. They were tall, nearly twice our size. Their heads were as round as the full moon and what we could see of their skin — for they were covered in dark, heavy-looking materials from their shoulders down to their hide-clothed feet — was indeed pale, though not as pale as I had imagined. Their hands and faces were slightly pink, as if only recently singed by the sun. Though they were in smaller numbers than us — I counted only four — they seemed to be in charge of our subchiefs, servants, and warriors, who had followed them from several villages inland and had fearfully led them to us.
As Caonabó and I emerged from our house, still rubbing the sleep out of our eyes, they immediately surrounded the plaza, each positioning himself in one of four corners, to point hollowed-looking metal sticks at us. From these sticks they fired bursts of lightning into the air, which startled and frightened our people, forcing many of them to flee.
Caonabó ordered our people to stand still. This did no good for the pale men kept firing their lightning rods at the clouds, frightening them even more. For a moment I thought I was dreaming. It was as if we were suddenly at war with gods. Only the piercing smell of smoke from these strange new weapons convinced me that I was awake.
Finally the pale men lowered their weapons and began moving closer to us. Their eyes were fair, the colors of jade and lapis, and many of our men were entranced by these colors and whispered to one another how these might be gods who had captured the sea in their eyes and could produce lightning at will. Standing now very close to us, the pale men spoke quickly in a tongue we of course did not understand. At times they turned and spoke to one another, then faced us once more, reaching over and stroking the gold ornaments around the necks, and arms, of our warriors. Pointing, they motioned to these ornaments and signaled for our men to surrender them. Without firing, the pale men aimed their lightning rods at those of our men who hesitated before turning over these decorative pieces of gold. To others they handed small chimes and pieces of metal, which our fighters accepted eagerly.
Now standing directly in front of me, one of the pale men reached over as if to rub my skin. Disgusted at his lack of respect for my superior stature, I pushed his dirty, fleshy fingers away. He reached for my arm a second time. Again I pushed his hand away. He laughed, but his bared teeth though unfiled and not pointed, looked so menacing that I removed my ear and nose ornaments and handed them to him. He abruptly raised them to his large, crowded teeth as if to chew them, then lowered them, looking pleased. I refused the small, transparent container he offered me in exchange for my ornaments, but a group of our fighters quickly traded their spears and body ornaments for it.
Caonabó stepped forward to the one who seemed to be the leader, for he stood slightly apart and appeared to be watching over the other three. His covering was also much more elaborate than the others’ and on his head he wore a basketlike shield to protect his face from the early morning sun. As Caonabó approached him, he reached into his heavy clothes and produced some red beads on a string and pointed at Caonabó’s golden leg ornaments. Caonabó quickly removed his ornaments and as a gesture of friendship accepted the modest-looking string for them.
“Where do you and your men come from?” Caonabó shouted in his face. Frankly I was even more perplexed now, for if these had been confused Night Marchers who had marched out of, rather than into the sea, wouldn’t Caonabó shouting at them lead to all our deaths?
The pale man ignored Caonabó’s question. Looking directly in my husband’s eyes, he pointed at his own mouth and stomach as if to ask for food.
Caonabó immediately signaled to a group of servants to prepare food for our visitors. I could already see the strategy forming in Caonabó’s mind. If these were angry spirits, perhaps we could appease them with a meal of yucca and pineapple. And with gifts of gold.
As the servants rushed off to prepare the food, Caonabó ordered our servants to bring four of his best chairs for our visitors. What was he going to do, my brave warrior? Did he perhaps believe that these were gods? Was he trying to soothe or spoil them?
Whoever they were, they were not familiar with our customs. For when the servants brought them Caonabó’s most beautiful chairs, they did not receive this great honor by immediately sitting on the chairs, but walked around them and greedily tried to wrench pieces of gold from them with their bare hands. This is when our visitors’ intentions became clear to me. They were neither spirits nor gods. They were not looking for courtesies, allies, or friends. They were only looking for gold.
I was so angered by the manner in which they were destructing our ceremonial chairs t
hat I could no longer endure their presence. I turned around and went back into the house to see about Higuamota. She was cradled in Marahay’s arms and looked up, wide-eyed and smiling, when I walked in. I told Marahay to take Higuamota inland to my friend Simihena, who I knew would look after her no matter what befell us next.
As Marahay was bundling up Higuamota, Caonabó
came in. He was assembling some of his golden chest plates to offer to our visitors. We did not have much time to talk, he said. But he had in mind a way to see if these pale men were like us or from some other world. He would convince one of them to go with him to the beach and force his head underwater. If he drowned, then he was human, but if he survived, he was a Night Marcher or some other form of apparition.
Whatever Caonabó wanted to do, I would consent to. But at this moment, what I wanted most was to move Higuamota as far from these men as I could.
As Marahay hurried from the house with Higuamota, running even faster once she spotted the pale men pulling apart our precious chairs, it was as if my heart had left my chest and was galloping from me. And I vowed to myself that there was nothing I wouldn’t do to see my Higuamota again.