2000 by Teresa Pijoan. All Rights Reserved.
Illustrations 1987 by Fred A. Cisneros
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FIRST EDITION
10 987654321
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data:
Pijoan, Teresa, 1951 -
Pueblo Indian wisdom: Ntive American legends and mythology / by Teresa Pijoan. 1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: A collection of stores passed down orally for generations, reflecting the customs and
traditional beliefs of the Pueblo people.
ISBN: 0-86534-319-5
ISBN: 978-1-6113946-4-1 (e-book)
I. Pueblo IndiansFolklore. 2. LegendsSouthwest, New. [1. Pueblo IndiansFolklore.
2. Indians of North AmericaSouthwest, NewFolklore. 3. FolkloreSouthwest, New.] I.Title.
E99. P9 P54 2000
398.2089974dc21
00-059516
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PREFACE
Anyone interested in mythology and legends will enjoy these stories which have been passed down orally for generations by the Pueblo Indians of the American Southwest. They reveal Pueblo customs and traditions as well as the ceremonial aspects of Pueblo religion. A character called Grandfather, the fictional narrator of these stories, embodies the collective wisdom of the Pueblo Indians, the attitudes about universal dilemmas and conflicts in human life that developed through many generations.
Some of the stories are realistic; others involve the supernatural. Some evoke the initial contact between the pueblos and the Spanish conquistadors. There are also tales of the joy and bitterness of interactions between parents and children, husbands and wives, and humans and spirits. Rites of passage and vision quests often enter into the characters attempts to live in harmony with nature, other humans, and spirits. Lessons on how to live, of growing up, marrying, parenting, and growing old sometimes emerge straightforwardly in these stories, but more often, readers are left to draw their own conclusions.
These stories, collected by Teresa Pijoan since she was eight years old, actually came from many different storytellers, some of them childhood friends of the author. She had heard several versions of each story before writing it down and she often used elements from one version to fill in the parts missing from other versions. She then showed her drafts of each story to members of several different pueblos and weighed their comments before putting each story in its present form. Ms. Pijoan grew up on the San Juan Pueblo reservation and the Nambe Indian reservation in New Mexico, even though she herself is not Native American. But her early experiences and bicultural background instilled in her a deep respect for and an understanding of pueblo life.
This is a delightful book with insight into pueblo life and pueblo traditional beliefs.
Wilfrid R. Koponen, Ph.D.
INTRODUCTION
Passages of people, placed on personal paths, press to mind. Their presence, ever so important, brings tears to my eyes. Tales of people not to be forgotten, but to be remembered, for the feeling behind the tales brings strength to the listener.
Grandfather, a name of respect to a wise one who considered himself indebted to my father for saving his life, wanted to return the favor by teaching me basketweaving and storytelling. We became fast friends with emotional responsibilities to each other.
The Pueblo now is separate from most of my family. The Mercantile they once owned burned to the ground on a hot July morning. My parents live far to the south, my brothers are married and live their own lives in other towns. I am now living in a college town miles from the people I grew up with and miss.
Strange as it may seem, I thought all the world was like the Pueblo. The places on the maps were smaller or larger Pueblos, people like those I knew. How peculiar to envision people and places that I could not identify as someone or something I already had worked so hard to know. All people that I have known and met do have one thing uniquely their own their stories. Stories unite all of these people, sacred soulful stories that are magical. The wisdom of the ways is to be held in harmony as a sacred song, the magic savored as it enters your soul.
"Believing what you are told in terms of words can turn your mind cold. Believing what you are told in terms of feelings can enrich your being. Here, hold these." Long stemmed willows with white slashes were handed to me. "Stories are to be remembered for the way they make you feel, not for the actual wording. How many do we have?"
"We have four piles as tall as my knee." My words were small compared to the roaring river. "Grandfather, when will you teach me what the river sings?"
"The river sings to those who will listen. Only those who listen can understand the song of time. Today, you are going to help me with my basketweaving." Grandfather slipped his sharp knife into his belt. "You are good with your hands, they hold feeling that should be put into beauty. Here, you carry these, I will take the rest to the truck."
The green willows were heavy. Once they were dried, they were lifeless and light. I carried my bunch of willow to the dirty truck. Mud had decorated the sides and most of the windows. Grandfather pulled me up onto the back of the flatbed. "You sit here and hold them down. The bumpy road home will knock them off if you don't hold them." I did as I was told.
The wind blew through my long hair. The willows bounced, struggling for freedom, not knowing that their capture would be beautiful. The adobe home was cold when we arrived. The fire warmed Grandfather's hands as they worked twisting the soaked willow that was picked yesterday. The wrinkled hands moved with great agility. My hands were busy stripping off what little bark there was on the green willow.
"You are a quiet one, Nee-nee," Grandfather smiled. "What is it you want to know about the river? Do you want to know the stories it tells?" The willows dripped on the mud floor. "Do you want to know about the stories that the river told me when I was younger?"
He wrapped the willows one over the other. They stopped being long pieces of wood and turned into decorative scalloped lace work. "When I was younger, the river was less complicated. It rolled down from the mountains with stories of the times that had come before."