The Unwritten Literature of the Hopi — John Locke — John Shaqi
The Unwritten Literature of the Hopi
John Locke · en
The two peoples have intermarried freely, and it is hard to think of the
Tewas otherwise than as "one kind of Hopi." However, they are of a
distinctly different linguistic stock, speaking a Tewa language brought
from the Rio Grande, while the Hopi speak a dialect of the Shoshonean.
It is an interesting fact that all Tewas speak Hopi as well as Tewa,
whereas the Hopi have never learned the Tewa language. The Hopi have a
legend accounting for this:
"When the Hano first came, the Walpi said to them, 'Let us spit in your
mouths and you will learn our tongue,' and to this the Hano consented.
When the Hano came up and built on the mesa, they said to the Walpi,
'Let us spit in your mouths and you will learn our tongue,' but the
Walpi would not listen to this, saying it would make them vomit. This is
the reason why all the Hano can speak Hopi, and none of the Hopi can
talk Hano."[10]
[Footnote 10: Mindeleff, Cosmos, Traditional History of Tusayan (After
A.M. Stephen): Bureau American Ethnology, vol. 8, p. 36, 1887.]
=Man's Work=
The work of the men must now be accounted for lest the impression be
gained that the industry of the women leaves the males idle and
carefree.
It is but fair to the men to say that first of all they carry the
community government on their shoulders, and the still more weighty
affairs of religion. They are depended upon to keep the seasonal and
other ceremonies going throughout the year, and the Hopi ceremonial
calendar has its major event for each of the twelve months, for all of
which elaborate preparation must be made, including the manufacture and
repair of costumes and other paraphernalia and much practicing and
rehearsing in the kivas. Someone has said much of the Hopi man's time is
taken up with "getting ready for dances, having dances, and getting over
dances." Yes, a big waste of time surely to you and me, but to the Hopi
community--men, women, and children alike--absolutely essential to their
well-being. There could be no health, happiness, prosperity, not even an
assurance of crops without these ceremonies.
The Hopi is a good dry farmer on a small scale, and farming is a
laborious business in the shifting sands of Hopiland. Their corn is
their literal bread of life and they usually keep one year's crop
stored. These people have known utter famine and even starvation in the
long ago, and their traditions have made them wise. The man tends the
fields and flocks, makes mocassins, does the weaving of the community
(mostly ceremonial garments) and usually brings in the wood for fuel,
since it is far to seek in this land of scant vegetation, in fact
literally miles away and getting farther every year, so that the man
with team and wagon is fortunate indeed and the rest must pack their
wood on burros. Both men and women gather backloads of faggots wherever
such can be found in walking distance, and said distance is no mean
measure, for these hardy little people have always been great walkers
and great runners.