Ceremonies and Food Memories

Editing Note: This piece was written in 2019; I am so thankful to have written it and to have some special moments of that particular time documented. With the Summer Solstice season upon us I couldn't help but be reminded of this particular memory and so grateful for the gifts that have been passed on to me and for the humbleness that a gourd could bring. Looking back at this moment brings me a warmness and I look forward to the days when we can gather in a safe and comfortable way.  

Saturday March 30, 2019
It is my first time visiting my family this month. Geez, where did the month go? I am not sure if this will become something I share if I ever start a farm blog or if this remains personal. Something just for me. I hope that by keeping this it will help to revisit successes, failures, happy moments, and trying moments. For sure I want to remember that right now when some things feel a little chaotic I will look back and smile and say, “that wasn’t so bad.” This is our last night dance here in Zuni. We have a total of six that take place during the late Winter and Early Spring months. This is a special time during our sacred cycle of being A:shiwi. A time when seeds are being gathered, blessed and given to people to plant. In my attempts to find my own identity and reconnect with teachings, ceremonies, and language that has been lost in my own personal world I cannot help but be thankful for my work as a farmer and what it teaches me in my effort to understand what it means to be A:shiwi(Zuni). It is true, being brought up in a home that didn’t push me to speak my own language, being influenced by the Catholic church while attending grade school, and leaving for boarding school during my teenage years was without a doubt something that shaped who I am but at certain costs both positive and negative. Maybe another topic to delve into a little later. However, without really knowing it, farming has truly given me insight into how we as indigenous people have survived and continue our sacred cycles of life and coming to be people of the Southwest landscape. I also have a feeling that despite not knowing a lot of my own culture I have been given the drive to start learning how to farm and that in itself I think is commendable. I have the desire to learn what has almost been lost so that it is not forgotten in our haste to keep up with the modern. Knowledge has circled around to me at the time when I needed it which has been special. I feel that it means that I am ready for that knowledge and that I will appreciate it and treasure it more. I have been reading a really amazing book by Enrique Salmon titled, “Eating the Landscape: American Indian Stories of Food, Identity, and Resilience.” His work has helped me conceptualize some of my own thoughts of what it means to be connected to our Mother Earth. Highly recommend. As I sit here at the kitchen counter typing away in my grandparents home, my home since the age of about two, my Wowo (paternal grandmother) is cutting up beef meat so that she could make the chuleya:we (posole stew) for tonight.

Whole corn kernels ready to be ground into corn meal 

It gives me a sense of gratitude that my family has not forgotten to celebrate this special event. My Wowo mentions how her own mother would buy sheep meat the day before or day of the night dances so that she could make her chuleya:we. As I type I have been given the task to grind the white corn to make the k’oheki:we (tamale filling), but first I have to remove the white corn kernels from the cob. The white kernels contain flecks of blue and pink. The white corn is a representation for the East direction. The direction of our yadokkya datchu (sun father). My cousin is also making her own contribution for the event. She is joining her aunts on her mother’s side to make hebok’o:muwe (sourdough bread) made in outside adobe ovens. While I have finished grinding the corn to be part of our evening meal, my grandmother is making pie crust for her pumpkin and cherry pies. All this food is ritual and important. We prepare the food so that we can feed the spirits of our katchinas and those that have departed from our families and we also get to take part in the nourishment that the meal provides and come together as a family to give thanks for the food and for each other. I often wonder what our ancestors were eating during these times when stores weren’t in our convenience?

Pot resembling a datura seed pod at the
Canyon of the Ancients Museum, Dolores CO   

I am also thinking of my partner who is currently visiting his family for the weekend as well. I love how he is also on his own journey to find and reconnect to his own past. The power of mobile communication is sometimes very convenient because he sends me a picture of an old clay pot found in a pit house dating between AD 575-950. The description reads “This unique jar has 12 diagonal rows of applique knobs. It resembles a seed pod of the medicinal and hallucinogenic plant Datura.” For some reason this brings to mind and reaffirms my own desire to want to collect spring water and to drink water from a clay pot. The longing to taste the earth and the cool pristine nature of unaltered water is high on my list of things to do.
He sends another picture that describes the cycle of the year in our own world view. The cyclical calendar in the photo speaks wonders of how time is viewed in our cultures. I am also a part of this cyclical time as a farmer and in my own small capacity as a grower I have contributed to this sacred cycle. This morning while enjoying coffee with my grandparents, a visitor arrived. I was made aware the day before that this visitor would come in the morning so I anxiously sat and wondered if he would really come. I was honored to present one of the gourds that I planted and grew to a Zuni religious leader, one of several men who has been chosen to carry out certain ceremonial tasks for the continuation of this cycle that our people have been following since the beginning of our settlement here in the middle place.

Seasonal Cycles of Pueblo People

The gourd has a significant part of the journey to collect and carry spring water during a special time of the year. All of this I didn’t know before being asked by our A:shiwi museum director if I had any gourds that matched a specific size and description and for a specific person. The visitor’s own gourd, passed down by his grandfather, was no longer able to do the task after many years of use. He blessed me with his traditional prayer in exchange for the gourd and told me he would replace his and that it was going to be used for something very special. So with that he departed and with that sacred exchange I was part of something greater. The act of presenting my humble gourd for the purpose of containing living water is also a part of the sacredness of our cycle. It gives me a lump in my throat knowing that my gourd will be used for something so meaningful. So today, we celebrate and give thanks to our ancestors and welcome them to eat with us and to ask for blessings of rain, good health, and a good planting season. Elahkwa