Chapter 4
An Old Man Whose Son Killed Him
ON MAY 1, 1965, Francisco Santizo Andrés and I left our headquarters in Huehuetenango to start a dialect survey of Chuj from a base in San Mateo Ixtatán. The trip was made in a bus owned by the Argueta company; the alternative was the Osiris bus that left a little earlier. Departure times were around 3 a.m., much earlier than necessary. It seems the two bus companies had been competing for passengers by each trying to leave a little earlier than the other, and they had finally hit a limit beyond which passengers would not go. By dawn we had climbed thousands of feet, and we stopped at a roadside eatery near the turn for Todos Santos Cuchumatán for a warming cup of coffee. We arrived in San Mateo at 10:30 a.m., shortly before Osiris, and the two buses went on to Barillas, where there was a fiesta, Santa Cruz, the day we arrived. This was also the day of the official inauguration in Barillas of the highway, Guatemala Highway No. 9, and the opening of two schools there.
I secured housing in the municipal building, a room next door to the treasurer’s office, at the end of the building next to the market. During the day this room was being used as an office by a commission from the Instituto Nacional de Transformación Agraria, receiving some twenty men who supplied data on residences and their families for purposes of securing titles to unused land, similar to the ejido system in Mexico. Francisco was busy making arrangements for our travel. Because of the fiesta in Barillas, there was a shortage of mules in San Mateo, and we could only secure two animals, a mule and a horse. In the evening Francisco visited with friends and we recorded a folktale, the Coyote-Rabbit tale included in this collection.
Sunday, May 2, we took advantage of the number of people coming into the market and took wordlists and one census. A paired set of census and wordlist came from a local man from the cantón of Yune Chonhab’ (Little San Mateo), located below the Calvario ruins. The other wordlist was with a man from Patalcal originally from San Sebastián Coatán. In the evening we recorded conversations and storytelling with other people. One of the stories we recorded is this text. I didn’t pay too much attention to the contents of the story; our routine was that Francisco would interview the Chuj speaker while I handled the tape recorder (or otherwise transcribed). My attention was on recording level and other technical aspects, not on what the speaker was saying. In this case the speaker was Pascual García Antonio, a native of San Mateo; an unidentified man made occasional comments, not all of which are transcribed here (but see the indented text within parentheses for substantive interventions).
Back in Huehuetenango in mid-May after field work, we dedicated ourselves to processing the material we had recorded. Francisco did all of the transcription from tape, and would bring me a text after he had a transcription of the Chuj and a rough translation to Spanish. I would go over the text and the translation and prepare a translation into English, add the lexical data to my slip files, and prepare questions about the grammar for later sessions. As soon as I started on this text, titled An Old Man Whose Son Killed Him, I realized what it was, a version of Oedipus Rex, told in Chuj by a near monolingual speaker, and presented as a traditional tale, as indicated by the opening, ha t’ay pekatax ay jun winh icham chi’. . . . “A long time ago there was an old man. . . .” There are numerous clues that this story is not native in origin, but it is well assimilated.
This text has a much more twisted history than the others presented here. Since it had special interest, I separated it from the other texts, intending to prepare it as a single article. This never got done, and over the years I lost all but the English translation and the tape recording. When I returned to work on the Chuj narratives in 2017, I first attempted a new transcription of the tape (now a digital file, courtesy of the Archive of the Indigenous Languages of Latin America). So much of the recorded text was delivered in a quick and colloquial style that I could not produce a reliable transcription. I appealed to colleagues for help. A professional translator in Los Angeles never responded to my request. Cristina Buenrostro in Mexico City had just sent her Chuj assistant home. Judie Maxwell at Tulane, another Chujista, suggested I contact Francisco Santizo’s brother, now said to reside in Canada, but this contact also failed. Through a friend in San Cristóbal de Las Casas I was put in touch with Elena Delfina Yojcom Mendoza, a teacher in Yalambojoch, and she agreed to try to get the story transcribed. After a few months she apologized for the delay and sent me a transcription and translation to Spanish. When I listened to the recording and tried to follow the transcription, it was clear that the scribe had retold portions of the story when the listening got tough. (It was still a good story, though!) In the meantime I had made contact with Jessica Coon and her team in Montreal, including Justin Royer and Paulina Elias. They took on the job as a training project for a new Chuj colleague, Magdalena Torres. I offered my English translation as a guide, but I was told that English was not one of Magdalena’s languages, only Chuj, Spanish, and French. After a few months I received a new transcription (and translation), again with some suspicious segments that I was able to resolve. The version presented here is thus a reconstructed transcription drawn from these various sources, but I believe it is accurate. I took my English translation, done in consultation with Francisco Santizo Andrés in 1965, as basic, added what I could reliably transcribe, and tried to fit into it elements of the two Chuj transcriptions. I listened to the recording over and over, and made some changes (apart from the second speaker’s interventions, which were difficult to hear). The result may not be a perfect representation of the original oral text, but it is as close as any transcription can be expected to be, and it is certainly the case that the story could have been told this way!
The diviner consulted by the new father is here called winh ja’at and winh xchumum. The former is based on ja’at, the act of making traditional ceremonies (see the agentive noun jatum, prayermaker, Academia de Lenguas Mayas de Guatemala 2003:41). The latter is based on the noun chum, the hard red fruit of the tropical tree by the same name, probably Erythrina species (Hopkins 2012a). Another name for the specialists who cast fortunes with these bean-like fruits is aj chum, “master of the beans.” The beans are laid out in arrays related to the part of the ancient Mayan calendar that combines numbers one to thirteen with twenty day names, creating 260 meaningful combinations. A person’s fate is in part determined by the date of birth and the combination of forces that prevailed over that date. This and other techniques of divination have been described by a number of ethnographers (see Colby and Colby 1981 for a detailed discussion of this tradition among the Ixil; see Bassie-Sweet 2008:92–96 for further references and discussion).
It is suggested in the text that the game in which the young man gets involved was bras. This is a loanword from Spanish barajas, and refers to games played with the Spanish deck of fifty cards also called naipes that has the suits copas, bastones, espadas, and oros (corresponding to hearts, clubs, spades, and diamonds). This is the standard deck for card games in rural Guatemala and Chiapas. The “riddle” that the young man is asked to solve is called preba, a loanword from Spanish prueba, a “test” or “proof.”
There are two comments in the text that are hard to explain. At the end of the episode in which the young man kills the man he has been playing cards with is the statement Entonse sk’exek’nak winh. My Guatemalan transcriber skipped this phrase and my Canadian colleague treated it as sk’exek’ naj winh, “Entonses ahí terminó él” (then there he ended), which is logical but doesn’t match the morphology of the verb phrase. There is an honorific naj for younger males, used with names, that is, naj Petul “young Pedro” (Hopkins 2012a:222). However, if the transcription is correct, this is the only instance of it in this text. I believe the transcription to be sk’exek’nak winh, the possessed participle of a verb k’ex-ek’-(ih). The root k’ex means “to exchange, replace” and is one of the terms that refers to the replacement of one cargo-holder by another and the substitution of one generation by another (Mondloch 1980). One’s k’exul is one’s namesake (Spanish tocayo [from Nahuatl]); children are often named after their grandparents, as they are to become the “replacement of their ancestors. The suffixed directional verb –ek’ refers to “passing by.” The term k’ex-ek’-nak, then, should be something like “replacement in passing.” That is, the young man replaced the older man (in the succession of generations). This makes sense if we know (as we do) that the young man is the son of the older man. This suspicion is reinforced by the second curious comment. Near the end of the text, the suicide of the young man is reported as ix cham winh smam winh, xcham xi winh. Smil sb’a heb’ winh, “his father died, he died as well. They killed each other.”
An Old Man Whose Son Killed Him
Narrator: Pascual García Antonio, of Chonhab’ (San Mateo Ixtatán)
Recorded in San Mateo Ixtatán, May 2, 1965
Chuj Text 21 [CAC 002 R022].
[Opening] | |
Weno. | Bueno. [OK] |
[Background] | |
Komo ha’ t’ay pekatax | Once upon a time |
ay jun winh icham chi’. [ay juntsanh . . .] | there was an old man. [He had some . . .] |
Ay juntsanh yuninal winh. | He had some sons. |
Tsijtum yuninal winh chi’. | He had many sons. |
Hab’ xo yalan winh, [ay jun winh . . .] | They say he said . . . [there was a man . . .] |
ay jun winh yunin winh chi’ ix jali. | . . . that a new son came. |
[First Event: Dialogue] | |
Entonse, xit’ k’ana’ jun . . . jun sb’ehal winh. | Then he went to ask his destiny. |
“Ha tik ne’ik, olam k’ib’ winh wuninal tik? | “Now, will my son grow up? |
Wach’am ol aj winh t’ayin?” | Will he be good to me?” |
xchi hab’ winh. | they say he said. |
“B’at hin k’an to ne’ik’ schumal winh.” | “I will go now to ask his future.” |
Sb’at winh b’i’an t’a winh ja’at winh chi’. | He then went to the prayermaker. |
Sk’anan xchumum chi’. | He asked that diviner. |
[Closing] | |
Yalan winh b’i’an, | One asks, then, |
ha xo winh xchumum chi’ yelta, | that diviner to cast |
t’a xchumal winh chi’. | the fortune of that person. |
Ay tonam b’aj | Perhaps there are times when |
ts’el k’och si’an jab’ok heb’ winh. | some truth comes out in what they say. |
[Background] | |
Entonse, sk’och winh b’i’an, | Well, then, the man arrived, |
yalan winh, | and he asked, |
“Ha jun wunin tik, olam k’ib’ winh, | “Will this son of mine grow up? |
Wach’am winh?” | Will he be a good person?” |
“Ha jun winh hunin tik, ha winh [olach . . .] | “Ah, this son of yours, he [will . . .] |
olach julan chamok. | he is going to shoot you to death. |
Kon el tiempo sk’ib’i winh, | In time he is going to grow up, |
entonse ke kab’al winh olach chamok,” | then he is going to shoot you to death.” |
xab’ winh. | they say he said. |
“Wal yel?” | “Is that true? [the father asked] |
“Toton yel.” | “Yes, it’s true.” [the diviner answered] |
[Closing] | |
Ha’ la yune to winh chi’. | And he was still an infant, |
Jantakam de . . . de . . . de un año, | He was one year old |
si más . . . [mas . . . mas] manto [manto manto . . .] | if more [. . . more . . .] not yet [not yet . . .] |
toman nene to winh chi’. | but he was still an infant. |
(Dos años, dos años) | (Two years, two years.) |
[Background] | |
Yo, yalan winh ix yistsil winh b’i’an. | So then, the man talked to his wife. |
[Third Event: Dialogue] | |
“Ha tikne’ik, tas skutik | “Now what are we going to do |
winh junin tik? | with the child? |
Icha tik b’aj yelta t’ahin to | It has come to me that |
ha winh olin julan chamok. | he is going to shoot me to death. |
Mero manh ol yallaj | Let’s not say |
ko mak’an cham winh. | that we’ll beat him to death. |
Mejor to b’at k’ap kam b’at, | Better yet go leave him in a pit. |
aj b’at kam winh yol junok olan, | leave him in some hole. |
mato aj b’at pak’ kam winh?’ | Or where else can I leave him?” |
xchab’ winh | they say he said. |
(winh smam winh unin) | (the father of that child) |
Winh smam winh unin chi’. | The father of that child. |
(Ha’.) | (Ha!) |
“Totom ipanam sb’at ni’o,” | “Then he has to go!,” |
xchab’ ix chichim, | they say the wife said. |
“yikan ha b’at winh [winh], b’i’an.” | “So you have to go.” |
Sb’at winh. | He left. |
[Background] | |
Sb’at winh icham chi’, | The old man went out. |
Xit’ yak’an winh t’a jun montaña, | He went to leave him in the rain forest. |
Ha ta’ xit’ yak’an winh. | It was there he went to leave the child. |
Pero jun montaña chi’, | But that wilderness, |
manh yojtakok laj winh icham chi’ | the old man didn’t know |
tato slak’anil xo chi’ | that nearby it |
ay jun chonhab’, xchi. | there was a village, they say. |
Ha xo yak’ jun winh icham | Then, an old man |
walek’ winh icham chi’ k’atsits, | was passing by gathering firewood, |
o pasyal | or wandering around, |
o t’asam walek’ say . . . | or who knows what he was looking for . . . |
say winh t’a jun montaña | looking for on that mountain |
ha xo yab’an winh walok jun unin chi’. | when he heard the child crying. |
[Fourth Event: Dialogue] | |
“Unek’, unek’, unek’,” | “Unek’, unek’, unek’,” |
xchab’ jun chi’. | they say he was saying. |
“Aj ix k’oti?,” | “Where is that coming from?,” |
xchab’ winh icham chi’. | they say the old man said. |
Xit’ sayan yilb’at winh b’i’an. | He went and looked around. |
Ha xo yilan winh hichanab’ek’ | Then he saw lying there was |
jun unin chi’. | that child. |
Ma chekel aj ix k’oti. | But it was unknown where he came from. |
Skal yaxlum ayek’i. | There he was in the middle of the forest. |
(Tonhej xit’ yak’an winh icham.) | (The father just went to leave him.) |
Tonhej xit’ yak’an winh, | He just went out to leave him there, |
spax t’a winh b’i’an. | and then he went home. |
To ha winh icham chi’ | Then that old man |
ix sk’anb’ati. | took him away. |
Sk’och t’a spat winh b’i’an. | He arrived at his house. |
Yalan winh, “Ay jun portuna ix wik’a,” | He said, “I’ve brought a treasure!,” |
he said. | |
Pero winh icham, ni junok yuninal winh. | But that man had not a single child. |
Malaj, xchi. | None, they say. |
[Closing] | |
Sk’ib’ winh unin chi’ b’i’an. | Well, that child grew up. |
Ha xo t’a k’ib’ winh b’i’an. | The child grew up there. |
Wenas wal k’ib’ winh unin chi’. | The child grew well. |
Icham winak aj winh. | He came to be a man. |
[Background] | |
Entonses, totonam algo lak’anam | Then, maybe not far away |
skal jun chonhab’ chi’. | lay another village. |
Sb’at winh b’i’an . . . | He went there . . . |
pasear winh, pax winh icham chi’. | to wander about, he went again. |
[Fifth Event: Action] | |
Ay jun k’inh ochi, | There was a fiesta starting, |
yoch jun juego t’a b’ajtil. | he got into a game over there. |
Mato braj, mato tas jun, | Maybe cards, or whatever; |
b’aj yak’ juego chi’ heb’ winh. | where they were playing that game. |
Entonses wanem heb’ winh chi’ jun. | There they were, playing. |
[Closing] | |
Yo, manh yojtakok laj winh icham chi’ jun | And, that old man didn’t know |
tato ha winh yunin winh chi’ yet’i | that it was his child with whom |
ol . . . ol ya’an tajnel chi’. | he . . . he would be playing. |
Sino ke yojtak winh to, | If he had known, |
ix si’um’anel yunin winh chi’, | he would have killed him, |
komo malaj sgana winh xcham winh jun. | because he didn’t want to die. |
(Manh xo tok’ ayek’ laj winh sna’an winh.) | (He didn’t know he was still alive.) |
[Background] | |
Entonses ya’an winh b’i’an, | So there they were, |
yoch juego chi’. | the game started. |
[Sixth Event: Action] | |
Tik ne’ik ha’am winh icham chi’, | Maybe it was the old man |
mas ak’an ganar jun. | who won more. |
Sk’e’en naj kot k’en pistola. | Pistols were drawn. |
And ffft!, he gave it to him. | |
Fit! Xlajwi winh icham chi’. | Ffft! The old man died. |
Ha t’a elk’och si’al jun . . . [jun jun] | Thus it came to pass . . . |
jun spreba winh chi’. | what the diviner had predicted. |
(T’a b’ajtil xintek’ sk’an te’.) | (Where he went to ask his fate.) |
[Closing] | |
Yo, xcham winh b’i’an. | So, the man died. |
Entonse sk’exek’nak winh, | Then the young man took his place. |
[Background] | |
Yo, hijun lajan nhej ham jun, | So, maybe a little later |
yilanab’ xi sb’a, ha na [ix ix] | he again came across that . . . |
ix snun winh unin chi’ jun. | the mother of that child [him]. |
T’o te wach’ yilji ix, | She was very pretty, |
una mujera muy simpática. | an attractive woman. |
Tob’ anheja kob’es ix ix chi’. | They say she was like a maiden. |
Anheja wach’ yilji ix, entonse. | She still looked good, then. |
[Seventh Event: Dialogue] | |
Yalanab’ ix jun: | They say she said, |
“Ha tik ne’ik to, | “Now, |
ol och chok winh wichmil | I’ll start to look for a husband, |
komo to ix cham winh wichmil jun. | since my husband has died. |
Pero, tato sna’elta jun preba | But, if they can solve a riddle, |
heb’ winh anima chi’ | those men. |
Wach’ tas tsaj yalan heb’, | I don’t care what they say, |
pero ay jun hin preba hahintik. | but I have a riddle of mine, |
Ta to sna’elta jun hin preba chi’ | If they solve my riddle, |
heb’ winh, | those men. |
entonse olin yik winh chi’, | then I will take that man, |
lo que sea chekel to anima winh. | whatever he looks like. |
Nada más sna’elta jun hin preba chi | All he has to do is solve my riddle,” |
heb’ winh,” xchab’ ix. | they say she said. |
Sk’och winh anima yak’ karinyar ix. | People came to court her. |
“Tsam ha na’elta jun preba chi’?” | “But can you solve this riddle?” |
Maj sna’elta laj heb’ winh. | They didn’t answer it. |
(“Tas yaj jun ha preba chi’ jun?”) | (“What is your riddle, then?”) |
“Ha’ jun hin prewa: | “My riddle is: |
Ay jun nok’ nok’ | There is an animal |
who when he comes, he has four feet. | |
T’a mas sjawi k’uh, | When it is dawn |
chanhe’ yok nok’. | he has four feet. |
Haxo t’a chim k’uhalil, | At noon, |
chab’ nhej yok nok’. | he has only two feet. |
Ha xo t’a k’uhalil, | In the afternoon, |
oxe’ xo nhej pax yok nok’. | the animal just has three feet again,” |
chab’ ix. [Ha . . .] | they say that she said. [. . .] |
Entonse max sna’elta laj heb’ winh, | Then they didn’t guess it. |
“Ma chekel tas jun chi’!” | “Who knows what this is!” |
(“Tas ts’elk’och jun chi’?”) | (“What does it mean?”) |
“Tas ts’elk’och jun chi’?” | “What does it mean?” |
[Closing] | |
Entonses sna’elta heb’ winh, b’i’an. | Well, they thought about it. |
[Background] | |
Bueno, | Okay, |
to ix k’och winh, | then that man arrived also. |
sk’och pax heb’ winh unin chi’, b’i’an. | that child arrived also, then. |
[Eighth Event: Dialogue] | |
“Ma’ay ke keres k’i ko b’ah? | “So, don’t you want us to have each other? |
T’a ma’ay, icha wal tik ts’on aji,” | If not, that’s the way we’ll do it,” |
xchab’. | they say he said. |
“Pero sk’i nhej ko b’ah | “But we will come together |
ta to tsa na’elta jun hin preba, | if you solve my riddle, |
porke ha’in tik, | because I, |
ay jun hin preba icha tik.” | I have a riddle, like this,” |
xchab’ ix chichim chi. | they say the woman said. |
“Tas jun ha preba chi’ jun?,” | “What is your riddle, then?,” |
Yalan ix: “Ichatik.” | The woman said: “It’s like this.” |
“Ah, bueno, entonse ha’in tik jun, | “Well, okay, then I |
mejor ix hin na’elta, | guess I have solved it. |
ke ha’onh tik jun, | that it’s us, then. |
Komo ts’on kotoch uninal | As infants crawling, |
chanhe’ kok. | we have four feet. |
Komo yel ts’on he kotkonok’. | As infants we walk on our four legs. |
Ha xo chim k’uhalil chi’ jun, | At mid-day, |
chab’ xo kok, wach’ kek’i. | we have two legs and we walk well. |
In the afternoon, | |
icham winak chi’ jun, | as old men, |
oxe’ xo pax: | on three legs again: |
ayoch ko k’och.” | we use a cane.” |
[Closing] | |
Kawal yik’ani snun winh! | Right there he took his mother! |
(Ah.) | (Ah.) |
[Background] | |
Bueno, entonses, ha tik ne’ik, jun, | Well, then, now, |
yab’an wal elta winh b’i’an, | he found out how it was, |
tis . . . yaj wal . . . tas wal yaj jun | . . . uh . . . it was . . . what it was, then, |
tajtil yaj jun ix jun. | how the woman was. |
[Ninth Event: Dialogue] | |
“Tajtil, chaktil aj jun?” | “How, what is your story? |
“Ichatik: Yuj chamnak winh wichmil | “Like this: Because my husband died, |
komo ha xo winh ek’nak, | so since he was gone, |
ichatik yaji, yelta” | it was like this, it’s true.” |
“Entonses haton winh hin mam chi’,” | “Then that man was my father!” |
xchab’ winh unin chi’. | they say the boy said. |
Mismo ha winh yak’ matar sb’a, yo. | Then he killed himself, then. |
Slajwi howal chi’, b’i’an. | And the difficulty ended. |
[Closing] | |
(Ix cham winh?) | (He died?) |
Ix cham winh smam winh, | His father died, |
xcham xi winh. | he died too. |
Smil sb’a heb’ winh, | They killed themselves. |
ay snun winh yik’laj sb’ah. | It was his mother he mated with. |
Ya stá. | That’s it. |
Ix lajwi. | It ended. |