Whenever the shaman returns to the people after performing the sacrifice, he says, “This was done on behalf of Nonorugami,” and all the people respond: “Matetravá! Matetravá! Kalahúpo!” (Thank you! Thank you! It is all right!)
When the gods have had their share of the tesvino and the food, the curing begins. The medicines are cold infusions of different medicinal plants. The shaman standing directly in front of the middle cross, takes up the jar containing the chief medicine, palo hediondo; his assistant to the north takes up the bowl containing a root called ohnoa; and the one on the south maguey water. After having duly sacrificed to the gods, the great shaman himself takes three spoonfuls of the medicine, and gives the same quantity to his assistant to the north, who in turn first takes his remedy and then gives some to the shaman. In the same way the latter exchanges with his assistant to the south, and then the two assistants exchange remedies. The bowls are then handed by the shaman to the owner of the house, who in turn passes them on to the first man in the row, and from him they go from hand to hand to the last man in the line, each man taking three spoonfuls out of each bowl, while each of the women gets four. The man who drinks last gives the bowls back to the owner of the house, who in turn hands them to the shaman, who puts them back on the blanket underneath the cross. Meanwhile the incense-burners have been filled with hot coals, on which the shaman now throws some copal, the smoke of which he waves over all the people. He, as well as the other men, open their blankets a little to get the smoke on their bodies. This finishes the curing act, and now a speech is made. At private festivals the shaman is the orator of the occasion, but at communal or tribal festivals the gobernador is expected to, and generally does, perform this part of the proceedings. Rhetoric is one of the accomplishments of the Tarahumares, though it is not to be judged in accordance with the white man’s standard. Here is a speech made by the gobernador at the end of one of the feasts I witnessed:
Listen to me! Stand up in a row and listen to what I have to tell you. All of you stand up in line, men, women, and children, because I am going to give you my words, to present to you the words which the One Above bids me to tell you. Now all is over! We have done something good to Tara Dios, and he has given you life to dance; and now he is giving you life for another year. All of you will have to make feasts like this. You have no experience; therefore listen to me and hear what I have to tell you. If you do not believe what I am telling you, the Devil will carry you off. You all are inexperienced, all of you who are standing here in a row around. Be quiet, and do all your business quietly. Drink quietly, talk quietly, sing quietly. And do not fight, because if in the fight you kill somebody, what will you have afterward? Nothing but sorrow and sadness! The One who is above us bids me to tell you, to say to all of you, men, women, and children, that this water, this tesvino that we are drinking is what makes us lose our heads. You know it all, and the One Above knows that this is the truth that I am telling you. Don’t fight, don’t pull each other’s hair, don’t beat anyone in the face until he bleeds. For the blood and the hair belong to Tata Dios, and you pull his hair and shed his blood. Drink tesvino to your hearts’ content, get much drunk, but then lie down and sleep, and in the morning you return to your homes without coming to blows with anyone.
All the time the speech is punctuated with expressions of approval, and at the end they all say: “Matetrava! Matetrava! Kalahupo!” (Thank you! Thank your It is all right!)
Ready to Begin Eating and Drinking after a Night’s Dancing of Rutuburi.
A speech is also often made in the beginning of the feast, when much the same sentiments are expressed. The orator tells the people to follow the good example of the host, that sacrificing and dancing may go on here, there, and everywhere, so that the gods will get plenty to eat and grant the prayers of the Tarahumares. He strongly admonishes them to keep away from women, as otherwise the value of the feast would be lost. This day belongs to Tara Dios, and nothing else is to be thought of. If anyone transgresses this command, he will have to give an ox or a sheep and tesvino, to make the feast all over again.
While the dancing and singing, sacrificing and speechmaking, are going on, the people behave with decorous solemnity and formality. The ceremonies are never interrupted by unseemly conduct; everybody deports himself with grave sobriety, and refrains from loud talking and laughing and from making any disrespectful noise. But after the gods have been given their share, the people go in, no less energetically, for enjoying themselves.
Food and tesvino are never distributed by the same man, nor are men and women waited on by the same functionary; in other words, one man is appointed for each sex, to dispense the tesvino, and two others to serve the food.
They eat but little of the solids, as it is customary for the guests to take home their portions, the women bringing jars and baskets along for the purpose. Little or nothing of the tesvino is spared, and it is the avowed intention and aim of everybody to get “a beautiful intoxication.” They all like to get drunk. An Indian explained to me that the drunken people weep with delight, because they are so perfectly happy. Every Tarahumare has in his heart a cross which Tata Dios placed there long, long ago, and this cross they respect. When drunk they remember Tata Dios better. At their feasts they sit alongside of him and drink with him. The women sit alongside of the Moon and remember ancient times.