Water

When you get lost on a mountain, she teaches you one of her fundamental lessons, the indispensable role water plays in caring for life.

The time of the water people and the path people

Every name has its own history, and in Mè’phàà culture there are two names for masculinity derived from the origin of the time: xàbìya/man (singular), comprised of the two words xàbò/people and iya/water, and xàbèkha/man (plural), comprised of the words xàbò/people, èkhà/guide-path, which in turn comes from àkhà’/sun. The literal translation of xàbìya is “people water” and for xàbèkha it is “people path,” the sons of the sun and the sons of the moon. In practice, we use these in agreement with the action and the context that are being referred to.

The following origin story explains the reasons behind these names:

Xó nìgùmà mbi’i / How water was born

“When the world had barely begun to dawn, blood was not what ran in our veins, Àkha’ (the sun) and Gùn’ (the moon) wandered forming everything in their path. They came to a town where there was no water and stayed in the house of a woman. Àkha’ (the sun) told Gùn’ (the moon): “Don’t tell them the secret of water, just hold it in your heart. If you tell them they will throw us in jail and make you show them.”

Gùn’ said: “There are beautiful women here, I’ve been thinking I’m at the age I should get married and I want to have children. If I show them water, I’ll ask them for four women.” He secretly went to a hill to get water.

A short time later he arrived with clean water. A person saw him pass by and shouted that someone had found water. All of the people came to where Gùn’ was and threw him in jail so he’d tell them where he found water.

Gùn’ said: “I’ll teach you how to draw water, but don’t lock me up, just give me four women so I can have children. When I’m not here, they will care for and draw water for the town.” But the men didn’t believe him and thought he was tricking them. They went and brought a rope to hang him from a tree and wanted to kill him for being a gossip. But some of the women said, “You have to give the guy a chance, we’re willing to marry him if he teaches us the secret of the water.”

They came to an agreement and Gùn’ sent the people to go look for ìxe skwìya xna’dì, ìxe xtúaya’, he buried those rods in the ground and spoke the water language. He warned that it would come with a lot of force, but the men did not believe him and laughed at him. He was almost done when the water exploded from between the rocks, almost touching the sky. It carried off all the houses and all the men who had not understood his warning.

That’s how Gùn’ drew water throughout the mountains, and gathered the people around the principal rivers and springs. That’s why there is water to drink and the rivers that we know exist.

The moon had his children and those children are our xàbìya, the new people, and the reason why we are born in the time span of nine moons. He gave us that first water to drink, that first water that gives us our name.(2)

         We are the children the moon had. Before we were born there were droughts, and the moon gave us life so we could care for the water.

In the everyday sense, the word xàbìya is used in an action to demonstrate strength and valor, if one assumes the role of being a generational guardian of identity, or if one defends their family’s dignity, name, or culture, you constantly hear people saying:

            — Atiàwàán xuàjñàà xí xàbiya ñajwààn’ / If you are a man, care for your People.

Our elders say that water is strength. When we are sick with fear, they cure us with a ritual called Mandiyia’ / Puff of Water, in which the water brings breath back to our body and reminds us of our origin story.

Today, offerings are brought to places where the rivers have dried out, and we bury sea water there so that a spring will come up. Water shouldn’t be played with, it has snakes that care for it. Water is our mirror / iya niwan, the blood because of which we make xàbìya, the reason our name began.

          The deity Xtóaya’ / Water Skin lives in the pools of natural springs, with her skin of different colors, violet, blue, green, white, red, yellow, like the rainbow, and symbolized by the skin of the serpent. One asks Xtóaya’ for rain, that the rains not be bad, that the rivers not overflow their banks, that the hills not be washed away, that the milpas grow strong. Before her you also perform the Xtámbaa / Earthen Skin and Dxawòò Túngaa / Changing of the mayor ceremonies. In the latter, you wash the staff of leadership [bastón de mando] and she renews the town’s government, with her powers from the water she calms people’s anger. Xtóaya’ provides wisdom.

          The time of the xàbìya / water men corresponds to the knowledge of and care for water, meaning that we must defend it against the extractivism of multinational corporations which see her as a resource from which you can make money. Water it and will continue to be a god that gave a good life to our ancestors.

          Given that water is so important in our culture, why is there such a disproportionate pollution of the rivers in our communities today? They are filled with runoff from drains, herbicides, and trash. The river has become a place to throw things away, and caring for the water has been abandoned. This devastation in our communities is a reflection of globalization’s cultural devastation. When we lose our rituals we lose our connection with the land and when we lose our language we forget how we name sacred places. 

          Thinking from oral memory situates us within the problems that impact our daily lives, showing us alternatives so we can look for a solution that comes from xó / how, from our experiences, taking up the elements of our thought that enable us to care for our territory. It’s thinking of ourselves from the ethical principle of being water skin people.

          Gùn’ used the xkuíya / plant to draw the water, which has its root in the word xkuun / seed or xùkú / animal, with the translation of this plant’s name being “water seed” or “animal water.” It means that caring for the forests implies caring for the water which gives us life. 

          What do we lose and what will we lose if we continue ignoring the problem of thinking of the environment from our own perspective? By understanding the relationships: body-forest, body-water, body-earth, body-air, we will grasp the deep connection between nature and the care for our own existence. Every culture is characterized by having gods that are related to the place where they live and their numbaa/earth world is configured from them.

           However, concerning the origin of the word bèkha / man (plural), the story is as follows:

After teaching the People about the water, the sun and the moon continued on their path: “(…) Until they arrived in a town to which people came from everywhere, to raise up the fire so it could go to the sky, because there was darkness and nothing had shape, but no one could do it. The boys asked to try to light the flame, but the people saw they were skinny and weak, and no one believed them. 

But one older man said: “I believe in you, stay in my house and when everyone else is distracted, you can raise up the flame.”

They were there for a few days, Àkha’ married and had children. One day the man made a signal and Àkha’ came running. He embraced the flame and went to the sky. His little brother Gùn’, seeing his brother leave, ran and raised up what was left of the fire and its ashes, following his brother. 

The people said: “Will they return? Our gods were here but we paid no attention to them.”

They regretted their error. The old man who had housed the boys showed them when the boys would return. He was a wise man named Mbaxtá / Rooster.(3)

          The sun and the moon were the ones who raised up the fire of time itself in the sky, which is why the sun is the eye of the day and the moon is the eye of the night. When the fire was raised up from the earth, there then began the measuring of the days and the beginning of our name as humanity: the sun was who showed the way, which is why he is the guide. Today, the people who learn new roles for the benefit of the community are called xàbò ikha / people guides, the same with people who are guides down unknown paths. As stated by the linguist Carrasco (2012), the name Àkha’ is the root of the word xàbekha, which means “men,” a word that in turn comes from xàbò ikha / people guides. Similarly, Àkha’ shares its root with the word xàbekha (54).

          You hear people say, “Nìwa1nú xàbèkhà muñàwàán mbaa / Men arrived to care for the land,” or “Xàbekha nìriya jambàa / The men made the road.”

          I know that it is xàbèkhà if we assume a commitment to opening and sharing the path of knowledge with new generations, and flame people are just that when they share their fire with everyone.

          The origin of our culture is present in each and every one of us, we are the people guide when we teach new generations the wisdom of our People, when we take up the responsibility of the path that those who preceded us left us. We are the water people when we demonstrate valor and dignity to care for what is ours. It falls to us to be the guides and caretakers of our culture. 

          We must concretize the political ethics of our origin stories, given that they are the earth where we can sow everything. Through them, we can enter into the diversity of thought and interpretation that let us name our way of feeling and scrutinize the elements of the xó / how of our philosophy. The times are different now and we should reinterpret our origin without losing its meaning so that our guardian deities, Xtóya’ gàjmàá and Àkùùn júbà (Water skin and Heart of the hill) symbolize resistance and how the mountains are cared for by the Xàbekha and the Xabíya.