those aunties go crazy
Saasaakwe!
dancing around
hugging a bit too tight
high kicking
and high fiving
until they take it back home
boil it up
boil it down
into sweet, sweet sugar.
Ever since, every Ziigwan
those Nishnaabekwewag
collect that sweet water
and boil it up
and boil it down
into that sweet, sweet sugar
all thanks to Gwiiwzens and his lovely discovery
and to San’goo and her precious teaching
and to Ninaatigoog and their boundless sharing.
Nishnaabemowin: Gwiiwzens (gwiiwizens) means a boy; ziigwan is the early part of spring when the snow is melting, the ice is breaking up, and the sap is flowing; nigitchi nendam means I am happy; doodoom is one of our very old names for mama; “doodoo” means breast milk; ninaatigoog are maple trees; san’goo is a black squirrel; bozhoo is hello; gawiin is no; semaa (asemaa) is tobacco; miigwech is thank you; nahow is okay; saasaakwe is a yell of approval; Nishnaabekwewag is women; and giizis is sun.
16
THE STAR PEOPLE ARE ALWAYS WATCHING
A long, long time ago, Gwiiwzens was looking up at the sky at night and he noticed a new anang. It was very bright, and, as soon as he saw it, he ran and told his grandparents. His grandparents gathered all the Elders together, and they all agreed: there was a new anang in the sky. No one had ever seen it before.
Everyone had a lot of questions. What should we do? Is it a sign? Is it a message? Why is the new anang here? What has this anang come to tell us?
After a long discussion, the Elders decided to ask Migizi to fly as high as she could, and when she is as high as she could possibly go, Migizi would ask that anang why she was here.
Migizi prepared for her big flight. She ate lots and lots of gigoonhag. She slept. She got her nest in order, and then she left, flying higher and higher than she ever had. She stopped and rested on the tallest mountain in the land. Then she flew higher.
When she couldn’t fly any more, she called out, “Shki Anang, why are you here? What do you want?”
Shki Anang answered, “I have been watching the Nishnaabeg for many moons now. They are so happy. They are so gentle with their children. They have great respect for their Elders. I love how they all work together and take care of each other. I want to come and live with them.”
“Miigwech,” said Migizi. “I will take your request back to my people.”
When Migizi returned to Gchi Nishnaabeg-ogaming, he told the people what Shki Anang had said. Everyone listened very carefully. After Migizi was done relaying the message from Shki Anang, the people went back to their families to discuss what she had said.
Soon, they all agreed that it would be a good idea for Shki Anang to come and live amongst them. They thought maybe the mountain would be a good place for her to live.
Migizi told Shki Anang the good news, and she came down out of the sky to make her home on the mountain. She could sure see what the Nishnaabeg were doing, up so high on that mountain, but she longed to hear their voices. She still felt lonely for them. Shki Anang asked the people if she could move to the bush.
The Nishnaabeg went back to their families to discuss this new idea, and pretty soon everyone agreed. Shki Anang moved to the bush.
At first the bush was great. Shki Anang could certainly hear the Nishnaabeg, but, once the leaves came out on the trees, she couldn’t see them. She went back to the Sky World to think about this problem. How was she ever going to be able to be with her beloved people? The Sky People listened to her problem and talked again until Dibik Giizis came up with the perfect idea.
Shki Anang descended back to the land of the Nishnaabeg, this time landing gracefully on the water. She spread her arms and legs out so she floated, and she became the most beautiful water lily.
After that, the Nishnaabeg gave her a new name: Nibiish Waawaasgone, Water Flower. Nibiish Waawaasgone reminds the Nishnaabeg of the beautiful Sky World and her people, and she reminds us to always live in a careful, gentle, and loving way. In her thankfulness, Nibiish Waawaasgone often gives her roots so that powerful medicines can be made.
Nishnaabemowin: Nibiish Waawaaskgone is a water lily; gwiiwzens (gwiiwizens) means a boy; anang is a star; migizi is a bald eagle; gigoonh is fish; gigoonhag is more than one fish; shki-anang means the new star; miigwech means thank you; Gchi Nishnaabeg-ogaming means “the place where we live and work together” according to Elder Doug Williams from Curve Lake First Nation, and dibik giizis is the moon.
17
ZHIISHIIB MAKES EVERYBODY LUNCH
One time a long, long, long time ago
there was this old Nokomis
and she was camped by the side of a lake
not too far from here.
In dagwaagin.
Everyone was busy getting ready for bboon.
Fishing.
Hunting.
Moving camps.
Won’t be long now.
One day, that old Nokomis was looking after her grandkids.
And it was warm and sunny
so she decided to paddle them to a beach for the last swim of
the year.
She packed their suits
and their towels
and their sand toys
and the sunscreen
and the sun hats
and the bug spray
and the stuffies and the special blankets
and the coats in case it was cold on the paddle home
and the life jackets and paddles
and that orange bucket with the whistle in it so the boat cops
don’t give her no trouble
and the extra clothes for when kwezens falls in.
And then she packed up those kids, and they were off.
Oh, those kids were happy!
Splashing and swimming
in that dagwaagin sun.
“Oh, I’ve remembered everything,” thought that Nokomis.
“I’m a multi-tasker. No one is more organized than me.”
“I’m Nishnaaabe Martha Stewart.”
And then that little kwezens said, “Kokum, nbakade!”
And Nokomis remembers she forgot to pack that blue cooler
full of lunch.
Nbakade! Nbakade!
Nokomis told those kids to calm down. Calm down.
You won’t die because lunch is late.
And she went to sit on a rock.
Pretty soon, she saw Zhiishiib.
And that Zhiishiib had a kettle on the fire.
And in that akik on the shkode were some grains.
And so that Nokomis went over to Zhiishiib and offered some semaa.
And that Zhiishiib showed Nokomis how to knock the minomiin
and parch the minomiin
and dance the minomiin
and eat the minomiin.
And so Nokomis and her grandkids ate big bowls of manoomiin for lunch.
And that Nokomis went back to her camp, and she showed all the Nishnaabekwewag what she had learned.
And so, every year, those Nishnaabekwewag go out onto the lake just like Zhiishiib, and they knock that rice into their jiimaanan.
But they’re very careful, because that minomiin is very sensitive. They make sure most of it goes back into the water so the ducks and the geese and the Nishnaabekwewag will have enough for next year. And then they share their minomiin, so that everyone can taste the lake all through the bboon.
And then they share that manoomiin, so that everyone can taste the lake all through bboon, right until it’s time for Nishnaabekwewag to go and see ninaatagoog.
Nishnaabemowin: Minomiin-Giizis means wild rice moon and is in August or September, depending upon which part of our territory you are in; Dagwaagin means fall; bboon is the winter; Kwezens (ikwezens) is a girl; n’ba
kade means I’m hungry; zhiishiib means duck; Kookum is another name for Grandmother; akik is pail; shkode is fire; semaa (asemaa) is tobacco; jiimaanan are canoes; minomiin (manomiin in other parts of the territory) is wild rice; Nishnaabekwewag is Ojibwe women; and ninaatigoog means maple trees.
18
MAKWA, THE GREAT FASTER
Makwa, the great faster, the great dreamer, is usually asleep in bboon. Usually. Because Makwa, the great visionary, the potent medicine teacher, spends a great deal of time with the Spirits in the dream world, and that’s why those bears are such powerful healers. Usually.
But, this one time, a very, very long time ago, he woke up in February, Makwa Giizis. Now, usually, when Makwa wakes up in Makwa Giizis, it is just to turn around in the den, just to get a bit more comfortable. Usually. But not this time. This time, he crawled out of his makweesh, and began sleepily wandering around the forest.
“Gi nibaa na? Are you sleeping?” asked Bizhiw.
“Gaawiin!” answered Makwa.
“Gi nibaa na? Are you sleeping?” asked Wabooz.
“Gaawiin!” answered Makwa.
“Gi nibaa na? Are you sleeping?” asked Wabzheshi.
“Gaawiin!” answered Makwa.
“Gi nibaa na? Are you sleeping?” asked Wagosh.
“Gaawiin!” answered Makwa.
Just then, though, Makwa noticed the big gigoonh that Wagosh was pulling.
“Wagosh, where did you get that lovely, big juicy fish?” he asked.
Wagosh explained how the Nishnaabeg had a hole in the ice out on the lake. He explained how to take a stick and push it through that ice on the surface to open up the hole. He explained how he turned around and used his tail as a fishing pole. Before long, the gigoonh chomped down on Wagosh’s tail, and, when gigoonh did, Wagosh flicked his tail out of the hole and onto the lake, and, taa daa! she had caught the fish.
Makwa was impressed, and a tiny bit jealous. So Makwa decided to head down to the lake and catch his own gigoonh.
“Miigwech, Wagosh! Gaawaabmin miinawaa!” Makwa called, as he headed out onto the lake.
Makwa headed out onto the ice. It was the beginning of Makwa-Giizis, so the ice was very thick and very safe. He found the hole just like Wagosh had said, put his long, long tail in the hole, and he waited.
He waited
and waited
and waited
and waited, for what seemed like 358 years.
“Gsinaa!” said Makwa.
The water in the hole started to freeze. Makwa waited some more. No gigoonh.
Finally, Makwa gave up. He was very cold, very tired, and his tail was very frozen into the ice-fishing hole. He tried to get up but was stuck.
Makwa was getting frustrated and angry. He let out a big Makwa growl, and then he pushed up off the ice with all his strength. In the process, his tail broke right off, and his beautiful long tail became a beautiful short tail, just like the one he has today.
And so a pretty grumpy Makwa, with a pretty short, and sore, tail, lumbered off home to his den, because if there is one thing that bears do not do, it is ice fishing. Makwa, the great faster, the great dreamer, sleeps right through ice-fishing season.
Nishnaabemowin: Makwa is bear; bboon is winter; makweesh is bear den; Gi nibaa na? means are you sleeping?; bizhiw is lynx; gawiin means no; wabooz is rabbit; wabzheshi is martin; gigoonh is fish; miigwech means thank you; gwaabmin miinawaa means see you again; makwa-giizis is February; gisinaa—it is cold.
19
SHE HAD A BEAUTIFUL, SPECKLED DESIGN
A long, long time ago, some Michi Saagiig Anishinaabeg were living on an island in Lake Ontario for the Niibin. They were fishing and collecting medicines. They spent time berry picking and swimming. They visited each other and conducted their summer ceremonies.
In the middle of this island was a beautiful, clear, deep lake. It was the most beautiful colour of blue, and it was always sparkling, even on cloudy days. The lake was full of trout, but the Nishnaabeg knew this lake was special, so they never ate the fish from the lake in the middle of the island. They only ate the fish from the big lake, Chi’Nibiish.
Sometimes, the Nishnaabeg needed to paddle to the mainland to visit their relatives or to get a different kind of food. One day, the families decided to go to the mainland, and everyone was excited to go, except for Kwezens. She wanted to stay. Kwezens was an artist. She loved to bead beautiful patterns onto makizinan and paint beautiful designs onto her clothes. She loved to sew new clothes for her family. So her family took this into consideration. They thought that maybe she’d like the time to dream some new designs or finish some of the projects she’d been working on.
After a long discussion, the family agreed that Kwezens was old enough to stay by herself. Before they left, Kokum gently reminded Kwezens not to eat the fish from the lake in the middle of the island. Kwezens smiled and told Kokum she wouldn’t forget. So the people loaded their jimaanan and set off for the mainland.
Kwezens felt free. She had the entire day to herself. Would she swim? Would she lie on the beach? Would she fish? Would she sew?
Kwezens also felt curious, very curious. So curious that she couldn’t follow Kokum’s reminder. So she went to the lake with her spear, and she caught one of the lake trout. She cleaned it and roasted it on the fire, and then she ate it.
When her family returned, they looked everywhere for Kwezens. They found her spear and her beading tools, but they couldn’t find her.
After it was clear that Kwezens was gone, Kokum went to the lake in the middle of the island. She put some semaa into the water. She prayed and sang for Kwezens. She put a little bit of food into the lake, and soon a little trout appeared. But this trout wasn’t like the others. She wasn’t plain. She had a beautiful speckled design all over her body. Beautiful red dots surrounded by yellow haloes, just like the clothes Kwezens has been wearing. Before long, the lake was full of beautiful speckled trout with red dots and yellow haloes, and before long, the beautiful speckled trout found other lakes to live in too, and they were always happy to feed the Nishnaabeg.
Nishnaabemowin: Namegos is trout; Michi Saagiig Nishnaabeg are Mississauga people, a branch of the Nishnaabeg nation living in the east; niibin is summer; Chi’Nibiish is the Mississauga name for Lake Ontario; kwezens (ikwezens) is a girl; Kokum is another name for Grandmother; jimaanan are canoes; semaa (asemaa) is tobacco; makizinan are moccasins.
20
THE ROCK ON MISKWAADESI’S BACK
Nanabush gaa-giigoonyike. Nanabush was fishing, but he wasn’t catching any fish. He tried with his spear. He tried setting nets, and he tried with a fishing pole. He put more semaa in the water. He tried at waabang, dawn. He tried at naawkwe, noon. He tried at shkwaa-naawkwe, afternoon. He tried at dibikad, night. No fish.
Nanabush was feeling frustrated and discouraged, and he was getting very hungry. Just then, a little turtle popped out of a hole in the rocks, but this was so long ago that turtles didn’t yet have shells. This turtle was just a body.
“Aaniin, Nanabush. You look sad. What’s wrong?” asked the turtle.
Nanabush explained the no-fish problem.
The turtle had an idea. “You know, Nanabush, I see lots of fish in the rapids. Go and put your semaa down there and ask the fish to come to you.”
“Nahow,” said Nanabush.
Nanabush paddled his jiimaan down to the rapids, put his semaa down, and talked to the fish, and in no time he had all the fish he needed.
“Miigwech, little turtle. You’ve really helped me, and, to thank you, I am going to do something special for you.”
Nanabush went and found a flat rock. He painted thirteen sections on the rock, one for each full moon in the year. Then he painted twenty-eight little sections around the edge of the rock, one for each day of the moon’s cycle. He placed the rock on the turtle’s back.
“Now you will always have a home. It’s a home you can carry with you, and it’s a home that will help the Nishnaabeg
keep track of things. Your name will be Miiskwadesi, painted turtle.”
Nishnaabemowin: gaa-giigoonyike—s/he was fishing; semaa is tobacco; wabaan is the morning; naakwe is noon; shkwaa-naakwe is afternoon; dibikad is night; jiimaan is canoe; and miiskwadesi is a painted turtle.
21
THE GIFT IS IN THE MAKING
In the old days, it was important to take care. It was important to nurture, and to love with all your heart. Nanabush taught us that one. Oowah. He used to walk all over, visiting with us, making sure we had enough food, water, medicine. Making sure our kids weren’t sick. Making sure we were all getting along. Visiting. Why did we stop visiting?
One ziigwan, long time ago, that Nanabush is out visiting, walking all around Nishinaabe Aki, and he comes to the part in the east where the Mississauga live, where the Eagle, Crane, and Caribou clans live in the south. That part. And he comes to their place in the bush, where those ones live. He comes to visit. Oowah. It’s a good thing to visit, to take care. It’s a good thing to love.
He comes to that place where those Nishnaabeg live, and he can’t find any of them there. No children. No fish smoking. Empty lodges. That Nanabush, he knows something is wrong, something is not right. It’s ziigwan. The Nishnaabeg should be mending nets, setting nets, smoking fish. The ice is off the lake. The winter is in retreat. There should be woodpiles, fires, but, instead, there is nothing.
So, that Nanabush, he goes walking, looking for those Mississauga Nishnaabeg. He looks by the river. He looks by the lake. He looks in the bush by the rabbit trails. Nothing. He start to feel scared. He starts to feel real worried. Something is not right. The Nishnaabeg are missing. Nanabush’s heart starts to rip open a bit. His heart starts to beat too fast.
“Calm down,” he tells himself. “Breathe.”
He sits down and he thinks. He thinks about how much he loves those Nishnaabeg. How he doesn’t see them enough. How, maybe, if he had just come earlier instead of spending so much time hunting with Ma’iingan, that this might not have happened. He feels really, really bad. He feels really, really bad in his heart, and his eyes make tears that run down his face onto the snowy ground.
The Gift is in the Making Page 6