From: Lynne Guitar [mailto:lynneguitar@yahoo.com] I wish I knew, Jaime, but it would take a lot of time and research to find out. I would guess that the number would be very few, for there is no social, political, or economic advantage to claiming to be "indio," in fact, quite the opposite, for to be "indio" is synonymous with being "stupid" and "gullible." Also, the Dominican teachers and school books hit hard on extinction for the Taino--most Dominicans accept the word of the "authorities" without question, even when their parents and grandparents use terms and concepts that have come down to them via the Taino.
Jorge Estevez Taino Testimony Caribbean Amerindian Centrelink Jorge Estevez from Laguna Salada, Cibao, DOMINICAN REPUBLIC
My name is Jorge Estevez, my family comes from a town in the Dominican Republic known today as "Laguna Salada" (salted Lagoon) but part of it is still called "Jaibon". At the turn of the century, the whole town was known as "Guabay". Jaibon is in the "Cibao" region of the Island.
All my family came from the campo (country side). Some family members have never left the campo and are still there today. We immigrated to the U.S. in 1961. I was left behind with my father and did not make it back to New York until I was 5 years old. We settled in the Inwood section of Upper Manhattan.
From early on, being one of the few Dominican families in the area, I became aware of how distinct we were from the other people in the neighborhood. We had different words for many things that other Latinos had, for example, we would say "un chin" as apposed to un poquito, or Auyama for calabasa, himagua instead of twins, ciguato instead of podrido, etc., and this among other things became a source of pride, in who we are and where we came from, for me.
On Saturday mornings my mother and grandmother told stories of our campo that fascinated me. There were stories of "Ciguapas," creatures that lived in the woods and had long hair and inverted feet. There were the stories of brave Indians who would rather die than succumb to the Spanish. Women whom my family believed were beautiful were always compared to Anacaona, a Taino Cacika (chief) who was murdered by the Spanish. My mother always maintained that bravery and jealousy were the two things that ruled an Indian’s life. My mother would put us to sleep with songs with Indian themes, one in particular she created from an old Cuban poem dedicated to the Taino.
My grandmother always told us that we were Indio. Even when I pointed out to her that we had family members who were black, she would in turn point out the ones that looked Indian or Spanish. To her it did not matter how mixed we were, because we had a history in Jaibon and that history was ultimately Indian. My mother on the other hand always told us that we were Indian and Black, and although she never used the word Taino to describe us, she did use Indio often. When I wanted to know about our African heritage she would just raise her shoulders and tell me she did not know what that was, but if it was anything like the Haitians, then we were different. She never spoke in racist terms when it came To Afro- Haitian/Dominicans because she recognized them as being a part of who we are as well. Her knowledge of the campo however was incredible as was her assertion of our connection to these things.
Some tales involved family members who had strange powers, and could shape-shift. My grandmother’s uncle, Don Choro was said to be able to change into any animal or plant. Other stories included "Botijas" (dreams) in which Indians would bring you messages or point out where buried treasure was hidden.
Of all the things we learned, nothing compared to "Casabe" and the planting of food crops and medicines. They spoke of "tua-tua" and how it could only be picked at certain times of the day, but that it was a great cure for diarrhea. Guanabana leaves were great for headaches, and so on. Yagua and Cana were the best for making Bohios (thatched roof houses), and guano was good for weaving Hamacas, arganas, and macuotos. "Cayucos" were a type of cactus that produced a fruit called "yaso" and it was made into a drink, as was the "behuco de Indio" that was used for "mabi".
The Casabe is made from the bitter yucca, which is poisonous. When we made casabe my mother would tell us that the best utensil to spread the yuca flour on the griddle was the bottom shell of a Hicotea (fresh water turtle). This always bothered me because I always liked keeping turtles in the house, but my mother would only allow land turtles, not the water kind, because she insisted they brought bad luck. When I questioned her as to why it brought bad luck, she just didn’t know. All she knew was that her grandparents in the campo always maintained that these animals should not be kept in the home.
Years later I read a Taino creation story from a book and realized why she had this taboo. According to the story the spirit being Deminan Caracarcol had children with a fresh water turtle, and these children became the first people, so in essence the turtle was a symbol of our mother and our ancestors never ate her flesh for that reason. It was then that I understood why my mother perpetuated a taboo with out even knowing why. After 500 years of Christianity, it is truly amazing how certain taboos and traditions have remained. Owls for example are considered messengers of death in the Dominican Republic. Many Native people in this Hemisphere also have this same perception of owls. In Europe the owl is seen as a symbol of wisdom.
I remember how once, while my mother was making casabe and telling me stories, my mind drifted back in time, and I wondered if maybe 500 years ago there was some other little boy watching his mother make casabe while listening to stories of our homeland, of heroic warriors and great shamans. At that moment I knew that our connection to these things are strong and it is the root of who we are and defines us as a people.
For me it boils down to where I come from. I identify with the roots of our culture in the Caribbean. I am extremely proud of our heritage. So when I am asked where I come from, I always answer: I am Taino from the Dominican Republic, from the town of Jaibon.
'
Login
Register
FAQ
Search
