Caonao (Cahonao)

A section of northern Haiti/Dominican Republic depicting the likely site of Caonao, where the mountain of Cauta supposedly included the caves of Cacibajagua and Amayauna, in the famous map of Morales.

Whilst revisiting various sources on the indigenous polities or societies of the island, we came across some inconsistencies in Bernardo Vega's otherwise great Los cacicazgos de la Hispaniola. At one point he tries to concoct a theory that the island of Cayemite may have been the site where, according to indigenous legend, their ancestors first appeared on the island. However, his reasoning here assumes that Peter Martry and Morales, the cartographer of one of the most detailed maps of the island, mistook the Bajabonico for another river possibly located in the Sud of modern-day Haiti. His reasoning here is not convincing, and in fact, by the book's conclusion, Vega seems to have returned to the original proposition on the site of the early origins of Haiti. Thus, by pages 69-70, Vega seems to place Caonao, the province where the caves of Cacibajagua and Amayauna were located, near the Bajabonico River in the Dominican Republic. As Martyr's account of Indian legends of origin was based on the relation of Ramón Pané, taking a second look at Arrom's translation and proposed etymologies for (mythic) places and landscapes is necessary. Arrom, who translated Caonao (the Cahonao of Martyr) as "place where there is gold," one should look to parts of Hispaniola where gold was found in abundance.

That would suggest somewhere in the Cibao or Vega Real is a good contender. In addition, Pané apparently collected most of his information in this part of the island subject to Guarionex, a powerful cacique whose sister married Diego Colon, the indigenous translator of the Admiral. Guarionex, according to Pané, was the son of a cacique named Cacibaquel. Arrom suggests this name could mean "shelter" or "refuge" and "descendant of" the "cave" (caciba). If this cacique was the father of Guarionex, and much of Pané's recorded traditions came from this cacicazgo or its environs, then the myth of Cacibajagua as a cave of origin near Caonao (or Cahonao) likely refers to this area near the Bajabonico. According to Peter Martyr, Guarionex's domains bordered the mountains of Cibao, Cahonao, and Cazacubana. It is thus very likely that the mythical site of Cacibajagua and Amayauna were located somewhere near Cahonao, which remains to this day the name of a river or affluent of the Bajabonico west of the pueblo of Imbert. 

A map in Deagan's En Bas Saline showing coastal Chicoid pottery sites in northern Hispaniola.

As for another important cave of indigenous myth, the cave from which emerged the Sun and the Moon, Pané is less clear. Supposedly, the cave was located in the land of a cacique named Mautiatihuel. Arrom has suggested a possible translation for this (mythical?) cacique's name: "Son-of-the-Dawn." If so, and the sun rises in the east, one might assume this (mythical) cave was located somewhere in the east. This contradicts Moreau de Saint-Mery's unverifiable theory that the cave site of Voûte-à-Minguet in the parish of Dondon was the site in question. A more eastern location would fit the possible sites for Cacibajagua and Amayauna, too, especially if this tradition is largely derived from the cacicazgo of Guarionex or its neighbors. It may also have been important for this cave, a site of pilgrimage, to be close to the cave of origin for the island's population. According to Martyr, the site of Camoteia, where humans first settled the island of Hispaniola at Cahonao, was also a revered site to which gifts were given. Martyr adds details here not explicit in Pané, perhaps drawing from Morales and other sources. Nonetheless, it is not unfeasible for the site of Cacibajagua to have been located in the same region as the cave of Iguanaboina.

This question of Cacibajagua and Cahonao may also have some bearing on the origins of Marien, a powerful cacicazgo in the northern part of Haiti. According to archaeological findings, the probable site for Guacanagaric's capital, En Bas Saline, was likely a Chicoid site in a region (northern Haiti) where Meillacoid ceramics were usually found. If En Bas Saline began as a Chicoid settlement in an area whose immediate vicinity was devoid of Meillacoid settlements, it is possible that the early people came from the east. They may have shared in this wider mythology of origin that traced the human presence on the island to Cacibajagua and the cave site in which the Sun and Moon emerged likely somewhere in the same region. We are assuming here that ceramic styles reflected some deeper cultural orientation or identification, but Guacanagaric's cacicazgo could have brought those traditions or legends of origin to the northern part of Haiti when a Chicoid settlement emerged at En Bas Saline by the 13th century. Of course, by the time of Columbus's arrival, the people of Marien may have developed a very distinct identity and new traditions of origin. But their cacicazgo wa said to have stretched as far east as Monte Cristi and parts of Vega Real, meaning some degree of contact with the indigenous centers there was feasible. 

Mitología y religion de los taínos

Mitología y religion de los taínos by Sebastian Robiou Lamarche is yet another study of Taino mythology and religion that analyzes Ramón Pané. Building off the pioneering scholarship of Arrom and Robiou Lamarche's past research, the author divides Taino mythology into 4 cycles while offering plausible interpretations of various episodes. The usual themes of the gemelos divinos, the origin of women, Guahayona as a cultural hero, and perhaps astronomical significance of Taino myths are expounded with South American parallels. Unfortunately, we found this essay to be a too similar to other studies of Ramón Pané and Taino mythology to be distinctive. The useful glossary and the distinct visuals and pictures designed by the author's daughter were certainly interesting, however. In short, Taino myth and religion, at least the fragments of it recorded by Ramón Pané and revealed by ethnohistoric and archaeological analysis, demonstrate that Taino religion and cosmovision was central to the established of a hierarchical cacicazgo that developed to its greatest degree in Hispaniola and Puerto Rico. The triad of cohoba, cacique, and cemi were the lynchpins of Taino religion and myth, and all can be said to justify a political order in which the "solarized" cacique emerged supreme. Perhaps one day new sources or studies of Taino material culture and iconography can tell us more about this cosmovision.

El mito taino

Mercedes López-Baralt's El mito taíno: raíz y proyecciones en la amazonia continental does an interesting job outlining the various ways in which Taino mythology, as recorded by Ramón Pané, parallels those of the Amazonian region and the northern part of South America. Drawing on ethnographic data and collections of South American Indian myths, López-Baralt convincingly demonstrates how the Taino peoples of the Greater Antilles were deeply immersed in an older, continental civilization based on manioc. Where the Taino differ, however, is in their more developed ceremonialism, the greater social stratification and the role of the shaman as an intermediary between the people and the cemis. 

Despite those differences, perhaps the Taino really were still in that "intermediary" stage of tribal-tributary production, meaning they were in greater proximity to their less politically centralized continental cousins. Perhaps the similarities between the Taino and their mainland Arawak and other "cousins" can unveil some of the ideological, social, and economic features of Taino society? The notion of cyclical time, for example was probably shared by the Taino and South American indigenous populations. This could explain the idea of new generations of humans or rebirths of humanity represented through figures like Guahayona and Deminan. Furthermore, the ubiquity of the female turtle as a symbol of motherhood or the frog as a symbol of fertility in Taino and South American mythology very well could indicate something about the nature of Taino art and the position of women as mothers, objects of raids, and bodies of water. Whether or not some of the myths recorded by Pané could be deduced to explain the rise of patriarchal societies or not seems uncertain at this point. 

However, López-Baralt, like Stevens-Arroyo, is likely correct about some of the larger archetypes and social functions explained or rationalized by Taino myth. These fragments of a larger worldview, fortunately bequeathed to posterity by Pané reveal much about Taino culture of the late 15th century. If only more of the traditions were recorded or described, then we could be in a far better position to understand Taino society. Of course, one must also take into consideration that it was the elite of Taino society who provided information to Pané. What we know of the society thus reflects the ruling ideology and perhaps not the general beliefs of the "commoners" of Taino society. Perhaps the so-called naboria spirituality and religious practice was closer to that of the type encountered in the South American mainland and parts of the Lesser Antilles? 

An Account of the Antiquities of the Indians

While revisiting Griswold's translation of An Account of the Antiquities of the Indians, we were shocked to see mention of a prophecy of clothed foreigners who would overcome the locals, kill, and cause the indigenes to die of hunger. According to Ramón Pané, the indigenous population (presumably from the Cibao region of Hispaniola, where much of Pané's information was gathered?) came to believe the prophecy was a warning of Columbus. Amazingly, within a few decades of their encounter with the Admiral, their population did experience catastrophic suffering and decline. 

That eerily accurate prediction aside, Pané's brief account of the indigenous population's beliefs and practices is astonishing in other ways. Arrom, drawing on Las Casas, Oviedo, and ethnographic and linguistic data from related indigenous populations like the Arawak, shows how complex Taino mythology and religion actually was. For instance, a myth might allude to something like the origin of the sea or the creation of animals. Others, however, reflect their knowledge of astronomy and weather patterns, such that Anacacuya may have represented a mythic representation of the Pole Star. Their myths also have parallels with Arawak, Carib, and other indigenous societies of South America, suggestive of deep antiquity and possible etymologies of names for mythic places. Some of this remains speculative, naturally, but helps the reader understand some of the metaphors, symbols, and social practices misunderstood by Pané.

If, despite their limitations, sources such as An Account of the Antiquities of the Indians remain indispensable for reconstructing the history of the indigenous Caribbean, one must know how to "read" through the colonial and Christian biases. Arrom's careful footnotes do an excellent job in this regard, thereby showing how one can use colonial sources to reconstruct the history of the Taino of Hispaniola (and the Greater Antilles). One can also begin to see more clearly the numerous ways in which elements of the indigenous cultures survived the conquest and went on to play a major role in the development of the colonial-era peasantries in the Spanish Caribbean. They may have lost the behiques, zemis, caciques, and most of the religion, but inherited several other aspects of the indigenous legacy. 

Taino Myth and South America

Ricardo Alegria's Apuntes en torno a la mitología de los indios taínos de las antillas mayores y sus orígenes suramericanos is yet another study of Taino mythology using a comparative approach with South American lowland peoples. Given the fragmented nature of our understanding of Taino mythology, relying mainly on Ramón Pané  and the usual Spanish sources, one can see the advantages of an approach incorporating data from extant South American indigenous peoples. The analogies, parallels, and even repetition of the same motifs in Taino and South American mythology certainly supports it, too. In order to demonstrate this, Alegria focuses on myths about the origins of humanity, the beginning of women, divine twins, and tales of the flood or deluge. Using Pané as the basis, as well as Pedro Martir, Ulloa, and the work of Levi-Strauss and others who collected and analyzed South American myths, Alegria illustrates the mainly South American tropical origin of the Taino.

As one might expect from the linguistic, archaeological, and ethnographic evidence indicating South American origins (at least for Saladoid expansion, which seems to have included cohoba ritual paraphernalia and a specific ceramics tradition to the Antilles), Taino myth shares much of its references to cultural heroes, social norms, and ritual-religious processes with indigenous peoples across the tropical lowlands. Venezuela, Guyana, and even Brazilian indigenous peoples like the Tupi can be seen to share some of the same mythological lore. For instance, tales of the origin of women across the region refer to figures carved of stone who gain female genitalia through a wood-pecker bird. This, of course, also appears in the myths collected by Pané in Hispaniola. Moreover, several South American indigenous groups posit very similar origins of humanity. Indeed, several peoples believed humans lived in a subterranean world and only entered the surface through caves (for a notable exception, Caribs appear to have believed humans descended from the sky). They were often led out of the caves through a cord that breaks, leaving some in the other world. Those familiar with Pané can also find a similar example from Hispaniola, where humans were believed to have arose from caves. 

In addition, belief in divine twins who become culture heroes for establishing traditions and sharing their knowledge with posterity are also incredibly common. In nearly all the myths mentioned here, the divine twins are born of a woman whose husband abandons or leaves her. The father of her sons is often the Sun. After beginning a journey to take her unborn sons to meet their father, the mother is killed or faces misfortune due to a jaguar or ogro or other being. The killer of the mother then raises the twins who, after learning or mastering the skills of fire, casabe or proper behavior, seek vengeance for their mother. While several South American peoples believed these divine twins later became the Sun and the Moon, and/or one twin was brilliant and the other was a fool, the Taino myth from Hispaniola instead features 4 twin sibling (representing the four winds or cardinal directions?). Born to the same mother and an unnamed father (the Sun?), the only divine twin named is Deminan. Deminan and his brothers fulfil a similar role to Taino society as the divine twins in South American myths. Indeed, they play a pivotal role in the origins of the sea through knocking over the calabash containing Yayael. They also, through the female turtle that emerges from Deminan's back, may have become ancestors to a new generation of humans through their children with the turtle. As mentioned previously, allusions to an ancient flood that once covered the land or explains the origin of the sea also appears in Taino and South American myth.

While some of the similarities between Taino and tropical South American myth can be construed as a result of archetypes, the numerous parallels and variations of the same few details point to a distant shared past. The Taino, as explained by Alegria, would have had to modify South American traditions due to the different environment and fauna of the Greater Antilles. They were also several centuries removed from their ancient South American origins when their traditions were recorded in the 1490s. Despite the distances in time and geography, it is astonishing to see how deeply immersed South American lowland cultural traditions must have been in time. The ritual and social complex of shamanism, cohoba (or similar drug paraphernalia), and yuca culture diffused across northeastern South America along the rivers in the era preceding Saladoid expansion into the Caribbean. While some of the similarities between the Taino and their South American cousins may also be a result of later trade and migration that connected the Greater Antilles to the continent via the Lesser Antilles, the similarities across a vast region of South America suggest a far deeper antiquity. If approached cautiously, this reservoir of data can fill in some of the huge gaps in our understanding of Taino history and cultural development. 

Taino Myth of the Cursed Creator

 

This short video brings to life one of the Taino creation stories reported in an account of the Indians of Hispaniola written by Fray Ramón Pané. The written account, based on his experiences on the island in the 1490s, is obviously much closer to the source material. Yet, it has its problems, too. Pané's cultural bias, disdain for Taino religion and healers, language barriers, and passion for converting what he saw as heatens produces a plethora of problems. Still, anyone who wants to reconstruct the culture, beliefs, and practices of the indigenous population of Hispaniola must use these sources in some form. His account has undoubtedly influenced the above video segment retelling the origin of the sea with beautiful artwork.