San Geronimo Day, Part III

After lunch, we walked from Amitola’s home through the back of the pueblo and apologized for being intrusive; a man responded: “that’s all right. It’s your day.”  Eight sacred Tricksters or clowns painted with black and white horizontal stripes emerged over the top of the five-story pueblo. They came across the top on all fours, like menacing, prowling animals. Feathers sprung from their headdresses and from their loin clothes. A magical sight. With graceful stealth they move through the crowd, teasing, whooping, touching.  In the middle of the plaza, scores of vendors from the 19 pueblos quickly cover their wares so that the Tricksters wouldn’t take their jewels and blankets.  On top of the cover, however, the visiting vendors placed a gift for the Tricksters—food, water, a small bracelet—any such gifts bringing blessings upon the givers.

Morgan and I took turns mingling with the crowd and witnessing the pranks. A quite rotund, comical Trickster approached a woman and took her hand, motioning that he wanted to take her to the mountain. She resisted, but eventually agreed to kiss him as a consolation prize. Out of the crowd came another man, significantly larger than the Trickster, looking disapprovingly at him. He, perhaps a husband, took the woman’s hand and pulled her away.  The Trickster ran after them trying to get her back, but failed (he was no competition for the husband, who pushed him away).  To resist the will of the Trickster is a bad omen. He sullenly returned to the crowded, stomping and raging, picked up his bottle of orange soda, shook it and sprayed it on the laughing crowd.

For nearly two hours, the Tricksters stirred up trouble: throwing “bad boys” in the river, pulling women into a circular dance, an impromptu soccer game.   One of the Tricksters found a heavyset woman lying asleep on the ground, and lay down to mimic her, then put his leg across her body.  She was embarrassed, but played along and patted his leg.  The marauding Tricksters climbed the grandstand covered with woven fall branches and tore it apart (including the cross), handing limbs of gold to nearby Indian women.

By 3:30, several Tricksters gathered at the base of the 80-foot greased pole that is erected every fall for this celebration.  At the top, there were 2 thin poles inserted through the larger one and bags of gifts containing products made by the pueblo people hung on each; the first man to attempt the climb (there is a heavy rope looped part way up) got to the top, then began to slide down and lost his footing, getting rope burns, then fell the last 10 feet or so. The next man made it to the top and used the rope to lower the gifts.  Success means health and prosperity until next year’s events. The crowd cheered, then scrambled for the contents of the bundles.

Next: The BBC produces “Lawrence in Taos.”

 

This entry was posted on Tuesday, October 11th, 2011 at 7:47 am and is filed under Education, Fiction, Leadership, Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.