Showing posts with label Lokono. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lokono. Show all posts

Monday, December 16, 2024

The Word for Farm Is Forest

One of the most fundamental words for understanding the culture and history of the indigenous peoples of the Caribbean is conuco. Still used in Caribbean Spanish and Papiamento, conuco referred to the mound plots of yucca and other crops cultivated by the "Taino" in the Antilles. Among the Lokono or Arawak on the mainland, however, a forest is called kunuku. How is it that among the "Taino" in the Caribbean, a word for forest was used for agricultural plots clearly human-made? Some scholars, such as Sven Loven, interpret this as evidence that in their ancient past, the "Taino" used to construct their mounds after clearing a wooded area. This could be the case, yet it is intriguing that none of the other Arawakan languages spoken nearby have adapted the word for forest to an agricultural plot or mound. 

Let us take a brief look at words for related concepts in other languages spoken in northern South America, as well as Garifuna and Kalinago. In Garifuna, a farm is méinabu. The word for forest, however, is árabu. This same word is used for flora, too, while to cultivate is ábunagua. This latter term may be related to the word for to bury, ábuna. Looking to the Kalinago or "Island Carib" language, obviously similar to Garifuna, one finds a few more words. A garden, according to Rochefort, is maina. A forest is arabou, clearly the origin for the Garifuna term. Breton's dictionary, however, provides a few more words for garden. One word given in his dictionary is oubácali. Other synonyms for garden include máima, as well as Icháli. The second term actually survives in Garifuna as ichari, or large vegetable patch. To our knowledge, neither Rochefort nor Breton listed a word similar to conuco for farm, plot, soil or mound. However, one can see that Icháli is the "female language" word for garden, and presumably the Arawakan-derived term used in the Lesser Antilles before the expansion of Cariban-speakers in the archipelago. 

Examining South American languages may provide additional clues. The aforementioned Lokono, for instance, uses ororo for earth, according to Goeje's The Arawak Language of Guiana. To plan is abone whilst land or farm is o-horora. A tree is called ada and a planted field is kabuya. Only kunuku, or forest, is close to the "Taino" word. Indeed, Palikur, another Arawakan language provides few clues, too. Terre is translated as wayk, but forest is ahavwi. A farmer is called a wasevutne and wood is ah. In Wayuu, another Arawakan languages, selva is translated as wuna'apü, tree or wood is wunu'u and una'apü. To sow is in apünajaa and cultivo is pünajüt. The Wayuu term for forest may be related to the Kalinago and Garifuna words. The even more distant Ashaninka language of the Amazonian region uses inchatoshi for forest, and quipatsi for earth. Last, but certainly not least, the non-Arawakan Warao tongue uses daukaba for conuco and hacienda. Their word for wood or forest is dauna/daina. Intriguingly, the Warao use dau for wood and tree. Their word for tierra, Jobaji, is unlike other words we have encountered just as namú for sembrar is unique. Like the "Taino" in the Antilles, the Warao seem to use a word for conuco that ultimately derives from their word for tree and forest. 

Although we have barely scratched the surface, one wonders if the unique character of the "Taino" conuco deriving from a term for forest can be seen as a parallel with speakers of Warao. Although they did not share the same terminology for their plots of land, both languages seem to have adapted their words for forest for agricultural lands used for cultivating crops. This etymology also makes more sense than that proposed by Vescelius and Granberry, who sought to trace the origin of conuco to uku (meaning earth, soil, or terrain) and ko, for planting of crops. Is it possible that the early speakers of the "Taino" tongue, who we know interacted with Warao speakers they borrowed the word duho from, were similarly influenced by terminology or ideas traced to agriculture? A lot more work remains to be done. 

Saturday, December 7, 2024

Cemí and Religion

It looks like Jose Oliver was probably correct about the etymology of the word cemí. Rendered as chemíjn, chemijn in Breton's dictionary as the equivalent of God, the Kalinago word is undoubtedly related to the Taino cemí. Intriguingly, the word for sweet in Arawak is seme. Sweetness is translated as semehi while to cure is semechihi. A shaman is called semeti, a name whose use has been attested since the mid-16th century in Rodrigo de Navarrete's account of the Aruacas. As noted by scholars like Oliver and Goeje, a possible link to the word for sweet is very plausible in this case. 

However, we had not found a similar word for "sweet" in Kalinago or Taino to match the seme of Arawak or Lokono. Looking to Garifuna provided a possible clue. In that language, the word for tasty or delicious is semeti. Sweet is actually bimeti, which can be found in Breton's 17th century dictionary. However, the concept of sweetness definitely overlaps with that of tasty or delicious. Thus, it is possible that the word for "God" or spirits associated with positive attributes may derive from a word linked to tasty or delicious. We cannot say for sure what the Taino word for sweet or tasty was, but it was likely similar.

Looking to Taino words or concepts related to spirits and gods in the context of other South American languages is also worthwhile. For instance, goeiz as the equivalent of soul of a living person, does not have a close cognate in the other Arawakan languages or neighboring languages we consulted dictionaries for. However, Rodrido de Navarrete's account uses the word Gaguche, for souls. Ga may have signified great, and guche, soul. Perhaps a sense of this can be seen in yawahu, an Arawak word for Spirit in Bennett's dictionary? Intriguingly, Taino's word for the spirits of the dead, or hupia, has a close match in Kalinago or Island Carib's oupoyem or opoyem. In Wayuu, Spirit is aa'in while a phantom of spirit could also be called ayolojo or ayaluju. A demon or devil is yolujaa, which might be related to hupia. Garifuna uses afurugu for Spirit and mafia for devil, or fiend. Soul is uwani and ghost is ufioun. 

Palikur, on the other hand, uses uhokri and giwohkiga for God. A demon is wavitye which isn't particularly close to hupia. Surprisingly, one of the Palikur terms for God may be etymologically related to one of the Taino terms for God, Guamiquina (Great Lord, or God). This is quite different from the Hubuiri for the Great Lord in the Sky recorded by Navarrete in the 1500s for the Arawak. Indeed, we also wonder if the Palikur uhokri is also related to a part in Yucahu's full name, Yúcahu Bagua Maórocoti. Is the Maórocoti perhaps similar to uhokri, with the ma negating the rest? In Arawak, one term for God is wa-malhita-koanathi. This refers to God in the sense of our collective Father or begetter, while in Palikur, nahawkrivwi, refers to our grandparents. Perhaps the last part of Yucahu's full name really does refer to him as lacking a creator, since Yocahu was the first principle or Creator.

Tuesday, December 3, 2024

Behique or Bohiti

One word that was central to the culture and society of the "Taino" Peoples of the Caribbean was behique. Referring to the priests and healers, or shamans, the word appears to be etymologically linked to medicine and healing. This is not a great surprise, and based on what the Spanish accounts indicate, the behique was probably quite similar, at least in some ways, to South American mainland shamans and healers. Indeed, some of the methods of healing practiced by the "Taino" behique have similarities with Tukano healing practices or even Andean healers. For instance, Guaman Poma's vast letter includes a picture of a healer sucking on the wounds of a patient. Similar practices were described for other parts of South America, too. Even the use of the maraca and terms like piaje or piaye across vast areas of South America might indicate some deep, shared roots of South American healing and shamanism. While piaje or piaye appears to be of Tupi origin, the usage of the word by speakers of Cariban languages or other language families in South America is quite astonishing.

Let's take a brief look at words for heal, healing, shamans, and priests in different South American languages. In Ashaninka, an Arawak language not closely related to Taino, one sees the word sheripiari for shaman. Well, sheri in their language means tobacco, which implies shamans used tobacco in their rituals. This matches what we know of Taino and other South American cultures. One also wonders if piari may be linked to piaje. The Muisca language, in one reconstructed dictionary, gives chyky for shaman. This is clearly distinct, and we should probably consult bilingual dictionaries for various Chibchan languages to explore this. As for Quechua, an Andean language that one should expect to be quite distinct, a shaman is paqu. A curandero might also be called yachaq. For the Warao, however, one sees ibiji arotu as one word for doctor, and eributatu for shaman. Warao, also not an Arawakan language, appears to use a word for healers that is similar to the Arawak ibihi. This is not too surprising, since speakers of Warao and Arawakan languages have likely been interacting for several centuries. Nonetheless, it is interesting to see how the duho, derived from the Warao tongue, became a core part of "Taino" culture while the Warao borrowed words from Arawakan languages for core concepts like healers. 

Additional South American languages are worth exploring. In Palikur, for example, a shaman is called ihamwi. But to heal is rendered as piyih, which sounds close to ibihi. Faire soigner is translated as piyikhis in Palikur, which sort of resembles behique. In Garifuna, however, to heal is areidagua and a shaman is called a buyei. In Wayuu, another Arawakan languages, medicine is epi and to cure is eiyajaa. A curandero is called outshi. In Wayuu, at least, the word for medicine, epi, sounds somewhat close to ibihi. For Desano, a non-Arawakan Amazonian tongue, one sees oco for medicine and for shaman, cũmu.  In Guarani, pohanoha is used for medicine. A priest is a pa'i or avare. Magic is paje. One can see how Guarani has incorporated, at least in part, a word probably of deep Tupi origins for magic. 

In Kalinago, or the language of the "Island Carib" peoples of the Lesser Antilles, Breton is particularly useful. According to him, a priest was a bóye (boyáicou) or niboyeiri. Undoubtedly, Garifuna has retained this in their word for shaman. The word may be of Carib or Tupi origin, too, if similar enough to the Tupi paye with a b replacing the p. The word for medicine among the Kalinago was ibien, quite close to the Wayuu epi and Arawak ibihi. In the Arawak language of Guiana, according to Goeje at least, ibbihi signifies remedy or charm. Ibbihiki means to heal, which shows quite clearly the probable etymology of the Taino behique. But one wonders where Bohiti in Taino as a synonym came from? 

The fascinating thing about Arawak and Lokono in this case, however, is the use of a word for shaman that is quite distinct. According to John Peter Bennett's dictionary, a medicine man is called a semechichi, presumably related to the word for sweet, seme. One can even go back to the 16th century for a fascinating description of Aruaca shamanism in the writings of Rodrigo de Navarrete. According to this author, the Aruacas called old, wise men cemetu. This is an early attestation of the word for shaman, semeti, who, according to Navarrette, trained their students through a special process in which their myths of origin and beliefs were passed down. Navarrete also mentions the belief in gaguche (souls) and the Hubuiri, or Great Lord of the Sky. What Navarrete's account  tells us is that the use of the word semeti or similar words for shamans is probably at least 500 years old among the Arawak. What is most fascinating about this is that despite the use of different titles among Arawaks, Kalinago and the Taino for shamans, all seemed to share at least some common practices. The use of tobacco, for instance, was important. But the rattle or maraca was also important. Indeed, a word for maraca (or a similar instrument?) appears in Breton's dictionary as tatállaraca. Similar instruments were used by the "Taino" in the Antilles, too. The use of the word chemíjn in Kalinago, cemi in Taino, and seme in Arawak point to some broadly shared religious terminology. If it is true that the word is related to the concept of sweetness or delicacy, things highly desired or valued, and also associated with God, gods, or spirits, it is interesting to note that the word was only applied to shamans in Arawak. And why was the word for sweet in Kalinago bímeti, which sounds quite distinct from the Arawak term? Indeed, in Palikur, kitere is sweet. In the Wayuu tongue, sweet is püsiaa.

To conclude, one can see that the Taino word for shaman was etymologically linked to the word for heal and medicine. This makes sense, as a major function of such people among "Taino" peoples was to heal others. Intriguingly, the Warao appear to have been influenced by Arawakan languages in this regard when it comes to healers. However, the Arawaks were using a distinct word for healers or shamans several centuries ago. Their word for shaman, nonetheless, shares with Kalinago and Taino the same connection with cemi. Whether or not it is related to the concept of sweetness or delicateness is still unclear, but the "Taino" shaman was still quite similar to their counterparts in the mainland. One suspects the maraca was of great importance, as was tobacco and other substances. Much of tropical lowland South America seems to have shared in this broad set of customs of shamanism and healing, as reflected in the widespread usage of a Tupi-derived word for shaman across much of the continent. Nevertheless, a few mysteries remain about the behique and the concept of cemi.