LOST WORDS, FOUND ROOTS

Upon arrival in Mexico, an immense wave of heat hit me as I left the airport doors. I was wearing jeans and my cousin was wearing a thick jean jacket, a typical tourist mistake. I could feel the humidity and stickiness of Puerto Escondido welcoming us as we constantly wiped our sweat away. My family in Mexico is scattered through different regions of Oaxaca. The final destination of the trip was San Jose Ixtapan, where my grandparents on my mom’s side live. Struggling to walk up the rocky hill in the burning sun to my grandparent's home, I ignored the nosy adults and children staring at me and hugged my grandparents, accompanied by their dog barking at me. My grandma spoke to me in Chatino (native language in Oaxaca, Mexico); I stood silently and smiled. My grandma laughed because she knew I didn’t understand her, so she asked my aunt to translate for me. I felt guilty. I didn’t know my own indigenous language. Whose fault was it? Was it my parent’s fault for not teaching me enough when I was younger? Or was I too slow to learn?

Growing up, I always felt disconnected from my Indigenous culture of Chatino. My parents speak both Chatino and Spanish, but since they are from different pueblos the Chatino words can vary. Learning about these changes in accents and grammar rules, while starting Kindergarten in the English as a Second Language program, overwhelmed me. At four years old, I felt incapable of succeeding in school because of my doubts about becoming fluent in both English and Chatino. My parents’ conversations would go over my head since I never understood them. My mom’s four-hour phone calls with my grandma were also always a mystery to me. However, I have picked up a few words in Chatino, such as basic numbers from one to ten. I’ve noticed that a person’s tone can provide a lot of context to what they are saying. So, when my mom is on one of her four-hour phone calls, I always make sure to listen for a positive tone when my name is mentioned in a sentence. Understanding at least two words in a sentence can also provide important context, proven to be a blessing when sharing thoughts that non-Chatino speakers can’t understand. When visiting others, my parents will discretely say a few Chatino words to each other, as a respectful cue for me to prepare to leave. My parents and cousins attempted to teach me more of the language, but, as my cousin told me, “It’s no use. You're a lost cause.” Maybe she was right, but this only meant one thing. I needed to take a trip to Mexico to explore my cultural roots.

I prepared my luggage excitedly, completely unaware of what to expect. I was curious to see my parents’ childhood pueblos and explore more of my Indigenous culture. The pueblo of Santiago, Yaitepec greeted me with freezing winds and dark grey clouds in the sky, a dramatic transition of weather compared to the heat endured at the airport. Yaitepec’s higher elevation also gave me the illusion of being able to touch the clouds. On the way to visit my grandparents on my dad’s side, I immediately noticed that the majority of women had long hair, which I initially thought was just a trend. In the essay “Skywoman Falling” in her book Braiding Sweetgrass, Potawatomi author Robin Wall Kimmerer shares, “there is such tenderness in braiding the hair of someone you love… connected by the cord of the plait. When we braid sweetgrass, we are braiding the hair of Mother Earth” (Kimmerer 5). Longer hair means it is closer to the land, showing admiration and harmony with nature. At family gatherings in the U.S., my aunts and cousins who’ve immigrated from Santiago, Yaitepec keep their long hair to preserve the tradition for their future daughters. Of course, they wouldn’t stop the tradition based on where they live. Yet, I’ve reflected about how fortunate these women are since previous generations of Indigenous peoples in the U.S. were forced into Indian boarding schools where their hair was chopped off to be make them more “civilized” (Ortiz, p. 161). After observing the long hair adorning the heads of the female villagers in Santiago, I arrived at my grandparents’ home. I hugged my grandma and aunt. It was no surprise to see that they had long, curly hair, braided with colorful bows.

As the smell of coffee filled the air, I observed the decorations in the kitchen. Horseshoes and pictures of horses hung on the wall. I was served bright black coffee with no cream and sugar, better known as cafe de olla, made by combining spices and coffee in a clay pot. I felt cozy drinking it while talking to my grandma as it provided warmth from the freezing wind. I was then shown the room where I would be sleeping and noticed even more pictures of horses. “Skywoman Falling” illustrates a peaceful relationship between animals and humans in the Haudenosaunee creation narrative: “the land grew and grew as she danced her thanks, from the dab of mud on Turtle’s back until the whole earth was made. Not by Skywoman alone, but from the alchemy of all the animals’ gifts” (Kimmerer 4). Animals such as turtles and geese help save the woman and serve an important role in building Turtle Island with her, showing an interconnectedness between humans and animals. The people of Santiago, Yaitepec heavily depend on horses. My grandpa recounts stories of the convenience of horses while working in the field or collecting wood in extreme weather. The more wood carried by horses, the fewer exhausting back-straining trips for my eighty-four-year-old grandpa. After countless people warning him to stop working in the field due to his age, he ignores them and says that horses bring him excitement and adventure in his life. At his age he’s expected to stay home, but he wants to continue providing for the family as long as possible. The representations of horses on the walls of my grandparents’ home aren’t just for decoration; they symbolize a peaceful relationship with horses that enables perseverance and hard work. Despite countless attempts by my family members to convince me to at least sit on a horse I never did, too afraid I would fall off.

I sat in my room with one of my aunts who accompanied me throughout the whole trip, serving as a tour guide. As I utilized the wifi code bought from the corner store that would only last an hour, my cousins Darwin and Yaileen walked in looking for something they left in the room. They were speaking in Chatino, and I noticed that Darwin was emphasizing one word in particular. When they left, I mentioned this to my aunt who understands Chatino, and she bursted out laughing. I had no clue what was so funny. My aunt translated that one of Darwin’s friends made fun of him at school and he had used a clever comeback, which also made me laugh. It is situations like these where I wished I was fluent in Chatino, to understand inside jokes. This led me to wonder if the majority of kids in Santiago, Yaitepec understood Chatino. The official Santiago Yaitepec Municipality website states that the population of 3 years and over who speaks at least one Indigenous language is 3.83 thousand inhabitants, or 90.4% of the total population. These statistics were surely proven when my aunt and I decided to attend the Dance of the Masked People occurring in the center of the town. I heard many kids flawlessly speaking in Chatino to each other, making me feel out of place since I had quit attempting to learn Chatino when I was eight. The street was filled with loud music to the point where I couldn’t hear my aunt talking. A crowd of masked men danced through the street wearing colorful embroidered designs such as flowers or animals made by their wives. Events like these are constantly recorded and live streamed on the Producciones Yaitepec Facebook page. Looking through the page, you’ll be able to find multiple parties occurring almost every single day, showcasing the importance of community and celebration.

I hopped on the shuttle bus, preparing for the two-hour ride to my grandparent's pueblo on my mom’s side, San Jose, Ixtapan. I managed to sleep through the blasting radio of the bus and the hundreds of turns and bumps on the hill that made the bus jump. My mom warned me that the people in her pueblo often stare and judge people from the top of their heads to the bottom of their shoes. She jokingly said, "The gossip spreads faster than the cell phone signal." The wifi and cell phone signal was notoriously slow. My aunt and I stood in a specific spot of the house to get at least two bars of cell phone signal. But, I’ve noticed that this is common in other pueblos that have a small population. Their needs are taken less into consideration since they have less representation, a completely unfair situation Mexico’s government should improve. During my stay, the power went out for three days because of the weather. I remember being really bored, but the power could’ve been restored if the pueblo had more infrastructure. In the “What Mexico’s New President Means for the Country’s Indigenous Peoples” episode of the radio program Native American Calling, guest Gaspar Rivera-Salgado remarked, “Indigenous people have collective rights such as education, language, and natural resources. Local government elections for Indigenous people need to be recognized at the national level.” An important way Indigenous people express their needs is through local government. However, the local government doesn’t receive enough funding and since it’s not recognized by the national government, a lot of scandals have occurred. Through Sheinbaum’s presidency, I hope that Indigenous people’s voices are prioritized and not neglected based on population size. Every voice matters.

Through my trip, I’ve learned to embrace my Chatino culture. Language barriers may impede cultural connections, but they could never erase the universal feeling of love. When my grandma sends packages full of food such as fish and tostadas, she always makes sure to pack my favorites: pan de yema (yolk bread) and quesillo (Oaxaca cheese). When hiking through rough, hilly terrain, my grandma always made sure I was comfortable. She knew I wasn’t used to the terrain, so she would advise me to walk slowly and to never forget my mosquito repellent. Coming back from long hikes, she would always prepare freshly squeezed lemonade. If there were ethnic foods I didn’t like, she would always prepare alternatives. It is through this love and enjoyment of typical Chatino foods that made me realize that I was Chatino, despite not knowing much of the language. Perseverance, patience, hard work, resilience, and community building are strong Chatino values that I appreciate. Not only is it important for me to adopt these values, but also to keep Chatino traditions alive. Sadly, Chatino is an endangered language, but it is part of my identity that can’t be lost. I don’t want to be the ultimate reason why Chatino stops with me. My family is fortunate to speak the language. Boarding schools and other colonizer programs have forcibly attempted to assimilate Indigenous people across Turtle Island into English. Chatino has been spoken for at least 2,500 years and must be kept alive. It is up to me to challenge myself to learn the Chatino language again and see how I could contribute to Chatino revitalization projects. As I learn more and more of the language, I will never forget the most important word is Ña'cuu, showing respect and admiration for the hardworking women in my family.

Works Cited

Dunbar-Ortiz, Roxanne, et al. An Indigenous Peoples’ History of the United States for Young People. Beacon Press, 2019.

Hughes, Art. “Monday, October 21, 2024 – What Mexico’s New President Means for the Country’s Indigenous Peoples " Native America Calling, 22 Oct. 2024, www.nativeamericacalling.com/monday-october-21-2024-what-mexicos-new-president-means-for-the-countrys-indigenous-peoples/.

Kimmerer, Robin. Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants, Milkweed Editions, 2013. ProQuest eBook Central.

“Santiago Yaitepec: Economy, Employment, Equity, Quality of Life, Education, Health and Public Safety.” Data México, www.economia.gob.mx/datamexico/en/profile/geo/santiago-yaitepec. Accessed 26 Nov. 2024.

Kevin Cruz: I am a second-year student at Emory University studying political science and history with plans of attending law school afterwards. My submission is from an English 101 class assignment. I was tasked with writing a non-fiction narrative essay on my experiences with Indigenous cultures and how taking the course has impacted my perspectives. I received positive feedback from my professor and she submitted the essay to the Emory Eagle Award (first-year writing contest). I hope you’ll enjoy the essay.