Day 28: Of Dragons, Lizard Man, and Cornmeal Offerings

Day Twenty-Eight: Of Dragons, Lizard Man, and Cornmeal Offerings

7/7/11:

“A dragon lives there.”

Donald pointed to a plateau breaking up the skyline on the Hopi Reservation. I leaned in closer to the window as we drove, Donald talking about the village that had once rested on the plateau until the dragon had burned it down. Years after the fire, the Hopi still avoided the plateau. Even after multiple visits, the Hopi Reservation and its landscape still managed to pull me in. The sky stretched on, an eternal blue punctuated with the rise and fall of sweeping red rocks and smoothly rising mesas. The various roads cut swathes across the reservation, marking mile after mile of arid, uninhabited land. Joel was behind the wheel, while Donald, a Hopi cultural guide, sat in the seat beside him, flipping indiscriminately between Hopi and English. After two and a half hours of driving and a stop at the Hopi Cultural Preservation Office for an archaeological site permit and Donald, we were nearing Taawa Park. A large sandstone amphitheater, Taawa Park is home to some 5,000 petroglyphs from 1,500 to 2,000 years old.

But let me backtrack a bit.

Believe it or not, Taawa Park wasn’t the beginning of our day. Before bearing off into the dusty rez, we stopped at Lizard Man, an infamous site for any Grinnellian with ANT 104: Introduction to Anthropology under their belt. So, not Yelena or me, but definitely anthro major Noah. Kathryn Kamp and John Whitaker, two anthropology professors at Grinnell, had focused extensively on the Lizard Man site, running a Grinnell Archaeology Field School around excavations of the site. Home to the Sinagua people and abandoned in A.D. 1100, artifacts such as axe-heads, obsidian projectiles, hoes, turquoise beads, mutates, manos and a fire hearth were found at the site.

Not far from the highway and with many a juniper tree, I found Lizard Man to be practically dripping in sherds. After oooooh-ing and awwww-ing over some of the more intricate pieces, we inspected petroglyphs on a stone outcrop and watched as a train rumbled by not a stone’s throw away.

After some further exploration, we made out for the Hopi Reservation and Taawa Park. Alternatively called Dawa Park or Paaqapa in Hopi, the site can only be visited with a permit and a Hopi cultural guide, making it an oft-overlooked archaeological site.

Upon arriving at Taawa Park, Donald made an offering of cornmeal to the Kachina, explaining that in this way he was showing his respect to the many who had died there, giving back and not simply taking. The Hopi believe that after death, the spirit lingers in this world for four days, and many Hopi carry pouches of cornmeal in order to celebrate and honor the dead.

Donald presented his pouch of cornmeal to each of us in turn, and we all made our offerings to the Kachina in Taawa Park.

This site was one of the most beautiful I have ever seen. A tall cove cut with thin fissures and marked in complex petroglyphs at incredibly high heights, Taawa Park was a fascinating bit of nature now holding onto history.

As Donald explained it, Taawa Park was a temporary home for many indigenous clans migrating northward. Taawa Park offered an area not only protected from the elements but defensible, the deep fissures in the sandstone providing protection for women and children seeking shelter during battles with rival clans. According to Donald, these clans believed in who they called the Creator and who is often called God. The Creator asked that his people leave footprints on their journey, and for this reason, indigenous clans often left behind petroglyphs, making marks for the Creator and for following clans. A great number of clans passed through Taawa Park, among them the Rattlesnake, Sand, Lizard, Flute, Bearstrap, Eagle and Badger. There are sixty-one clans in the Hopi Tribe, of which many have left their mark on Taawa Park.

Donald pointed out different petroglyphs to us, explaining their significance and the story each clan was telling. Certain spirals spoke to the direction in which a clan had traveled, others marked burial places, while still others told tales of infidelity and bloodshed.

This is a sacred place for many Hopi, untouched by excavations. Yet, younger generations have left their own marks, scrawling names and signs with knifes, obscuring the stories left by their ancestors. Donald pointed out one such engraving and, after a momentary scowl, laughingly made up a story about it.

He brought us to one of the larger fissures, ushered us in while lingering back, warning us not to try and follow an intersecting fissure left; if we got stuck, he wouldn't be able to do anything about it. I sized it up, waited until Joel, Yelena, Noah, and (most importantly) Donald, were not looking before sliding my way through, promising myself I’d turn back when my hips became pinioned by sandstone. That moment didn't come, and for a mild claustrophobic it was a pretty heart-pounding experience, sinking into the layers of rock, drawn forth by only a thin slip of light. I popped out and scurried off to where the rest of the group was preparing to leave, doing my best to soak in the last of Taawa Park.

On the drive to the Hopi Elementary School where we were presenting another Kaibab Heritage Outreach Program, I learned that Joel is from the Spider Clan, while Donald is from the Water and Corn Clans. Donald talked about years earlier when a delegation of indigenous peoples from Chile visited the Hopi Reservation and discovered an overlap in clans and customs with the Hopi. Tracing his finger down his cheek, Donald explained how Hopis and Chileans alike began to cry at the realization that though their kin had spread so far apart, they could still be traced back to similar roots.

At the school, before making split-twig figurines, playing with the atlatl and throwing the rabbit-stick, each of the students introduced themselves to us with their name and that of their clan.

Later that afternoon, after visiting Joel’s house and his sister’s famous food stand, I thought about what it would be like to grow up so near my ancestors, able to experience the fantastical things they left behind and to speculate on tales of nearby mesa-dwelling dragons.

Frankly, I’d take Taawa Park over a family-tree any day.

Must see: The World Monuments Fund and the Hopi Tribe have launched this site about Taawa Park and Tutuveni--“meaning Newspaper Rock in Hopi, Tutuveni contains 5,000 petroglyphs of Hopi clan symbols and is the largest known collection of clan symbols in the American Southwest. Among Tutuveni’s 150 sandstone boulders are the records of more than 1,000 years of Hopi history and culture.” Thanks for sharing, Neil!

*Inspired by Taawa Park, Hopi lore appears in my short story "Gusanos."

Photos: 1. Mesa on the Hopi Reservation 2. Petroglyphs at Lizard Man 3. Taawa Park 4. Donald explaining various petroglyphs 5. Fissure 6. Taawa Park view 7. Students at the Hopi Elementary School 8. Taawa Park