Bornoan River Ceremony

A photograph of the Komadugu near Gazargamo (Borno Sahara and Sudan).

Whilst perusing Frauke Jäger's "Maiduguri–Twentieth Century Capital with Ancient Roots" in From Bulamari to Yerwa to Metropolitan Maiduguri, we found some intriguing references to ancient customs maintained in Borno's current capital. One of these practices is of deep antiquity in Borno, beginning under the Sayfawa dynasty. According to Jäger this water ritual took place when the river reached the dry riverbed during the rainy season. Afterwards, the Shehu threw a silver ring inside the river. The courtiers believe this is a blessing for a good harvest for the year. The crowd in attendance also took water from the river home. Under the Sayfawa maiwa, this custom was once celebrated with the slaughtering of an ox, prayers for a good harvest and commerce and even an oracle at the Komadugu Yobe (Jäger 28). Apparently, vassal kingdoms of Borno engaged in the same rite, too (29). In terms of her analysis of this ceremony, Jäger drew from field notes, Lukas, Seidensticker and Palmer. In the case of Palmer, she merely refers, indirectly no doubt, to Muhammad Bello's Infaq al-maysur. Unfortunately, Palmer did not cite his source for the quotation, merely referring to it as a "Bornu Fellata manuscript" (Palmer 105). But based on the brief extract used by Palmer, the text was likely that of Bello or someone whose work was perhaps based on his.

Moving on Lukas, whose study of the grammar and vocabulary of the Kanuri language was published in 1937, one finds another reference to the same ceremony. In this case it is for the river (Ngadda?) flowing near Yerwa (Maiduguri) in a translated passage (based on oral tradition?). Lukas reported that, in former times, the Shehu came to the river with attendants when the nearby river filled up during the rainy season. Riding on a horse, the Shehu threw a silver ring into the river and people brought other items to throw into it as offerings or sacrifices (Lukas 177). However, some people practiced more superstitious customs when this ceremony took place. Women hoping to have children prayed at the river and rolled naked in the river. In addition, at the source of the river, "fetish" practices were done by others (178). Clearly, the river was linked to fertility (of land and people) and some of the customs done in Borno were not Islamic. Yet the ceremony led by the Shehu was seen as distinct, and presumably did not include "fetish" practices.

A translation of Muhammad Bello's work referring to improper customs in Borno (translated by Salahudeen Yusuf).

Besides Jäger and Lukas, Muhammad Bello's 19th century description of the ceremony is the most interesting. Used in a context of justifying the jihad's attacks on Borno under the Sayfawa, Bello needed to portray the ceremony as idolatrous or pagan. Thus, the customs of Borno, despite Islam being widespread, made the people unbelievers. The Sayfawa rulers, despite their status as Islamic kings, failed to condemn idolatrous or "pagan" practices and therefore were legitimate targets. While Bello also included the custom of sacrificing animals and sprinkling blood at the gates of cities as among their acts of disbelief, his reference to the practice of offering sacrifices to snakes brings to mind Machina (Bello 72). Since some of what he described may have been more specific to vassals of Borno rather than the Sayfawa rulers themselves, his brief sentence on the river ceremony is probably the easiest to relate to the ruling dynasty. Sadly, his description is too short, but comparing how they do to the river what the Copts did to the Nile in the "days of ignorance" is telling. Clearly, superstitious practices were taking place at rivers and the Sayfawa were guilty of participating them as customs inherited from their forefathers. If the river ceremony was an ancient one of the Sayfawa, it may even have roots in Kanem when the king was seen as the source of sustenance (possibly through a similar ritual involving rivers or streams associated with the wet season and fertility). 

The annual river rite was probably performed at Gambaru, too. According to Ritchie, whose report on Borno was published in 1820 based on informants who had been there, a virgin was sacrificed to the river flowing near Gambaru. Relying on an informant named Hadji Hamet, allegedly a Borno native, the story suggests that a virgin was sacrificed every year when the river inundated near Gambaru. That Hamet's account was at least somewhat believable is the mention of castles erected at Gambaru. Although attributed to Christians, this is probably an allusion to the fired-brick ruins at the site. Moreover, Burckhardt, in his Travels in Nubia, was informed by a Borno native that the mai ordered a virgin thrown into the river (Burckhardt 444). It is somewhat muddled whether or not the ceremony took place both near Gazargamo and at Gambaru, but it is clearly tied to the rainy season ceremony of prayer and rituals at the river. The throwing of a virgin (slave?) into it also seems to be another clear allusion to the river's association with fertility. 

Unfortunately, the throwing of a virgin into the river brings to mind human sacrifice. Moreover, that Borno natives were the sources of this information does incline one to believe there is some truth to it. But were these women actually drowned in the river? Or was it more akin to the women who, praying for children, waded in the river? Certainly, the slaughter of an animal and prayers for a good harvest are remembered in Borno tradition, but it is difficult to imagine the Sayfawa rulers sanctioning human sacrifice. The ceremony was likely of deep antiquity but associated with the Islamic prayers and practices of the ruling elite. That, of course, still made them infidels to Muhammad Bello. For even one act of disbelief can outweigh one's other actions. But the throwing of a virgin into the flooded river sounds like the later tradition of women praying for children entering it or others using foam from the river to wash themselves.

Intriguingly, Muhammad al-Amin al-Kanemi agreed that the visits of the Sayfawa kings to special places to give alms or conduct ceremonies was condemnable. He also wrote, "But its performer should not be imputed with unbelief, since no one claims that it has any impact (on them) nor do they intend to shirk (polytheism) (with such acts), rather their claim, because of ignorance is that giving alms at these places is better than in other places" (Bello 300). While not directly commenting on the annual river ceremony, al-Kanemi's letter suggests it was associated with the other places where the mai gave alms and performed sacrifices. It was not acceptable from an Islamic point of view, but not due to disbelief. Instead, it was through ignorance and innovation in the faith. If al-Kanemi saw human sacrifice as part of these rites, which is not mentioned by either Bello or himself, it was possibly due to the ideological conflict between Bello and himself. Or, as we believe to be more likely, human sacrifice was not part of the rites. Despite his condemnation of it, the annual river custom was later practiced by the al-Kanemi dynasty anyway. Popular traditions and rituals can become Islamic. The antiquity of this custom may also stretch back in time to pre-Islamic Kanem. It was certainly a custom associated with the rulers that could incorporate Islamic prayer and rituals while still honoring ancestral tradition. 

Speculating on the Cacicazgo of Guahaba

 

Aubourg's map showing the placement of a village in Guahaba at the site of Lacorne.

Although often overlooked in colonial accounts, Guahaba was a major Taíno cacicazgo in northwestern Hispaniola, whose political importance and population size have been underestimated due to Spanish violence, depopulation, and incomplete documentation. Known as the land from which Hatuey fled to Cuba to escape Spanish invasion, Guahaba was located in northwestern Haiti. The exact boundaries of the district and its political organization before Spanish conquest is difficult to discern. Tejera, drawing on Las Casas and the Spanish chroniclers, described Guahaba as 18 leagues from Cuba (271). Guahaba itself was said to be in a valley with a river called Hami flowing in it (205). Bernardo Vega, also drawing on similar sources and Peter Martyr d'Anghiera, saw Guahaba as likely located between Gros Morne and Borgne, possibly also the area of Guanacano in the map of Morales (30). Moreover, the region Las Casas referred to as Araguey, a valley and river, was where the Spanish founded the town of Lares de Guahaba (37). Like Vega, Valmé also saw Guahaba as being centered in the valley of Trois Rivieres (178). Keegan likewise focused on Trois Rivieres as the probable location near Port-de-Paix of a very large Taino settlement seen by Columbus's men in the First Voyage (58). While scholars disagree on the exact details, it is clear that Guahaba was in Haiti's northwest, and perhaps with its largest settlement near Gros Morne or Port de Paix. Who was its paramount cacique is unclear, although Hatuey is a likely contender since he was able to lead a large following to Cuba.  

Arranz Márquez's table for the caciques of Lares de Guahava (Guahaba).

Unfortunately, looking at the 1514 repartimiento records sheds little additional light on Guahaba. The area had the smallest Indian population, only 487, but this was likely the result of 3 factors: the exodus to Cuba led by Hatuey, population loss incurred during the "pacification" of the area ordered by Ovando and probably the forced relocation of indigenous peoples to distant locations where mining was conducted or more profitable.  Of the 10 caciques with followers assigned to encomenderos at Lares de Guahaba, some still had indigenous names: Bayacaguera, Mayagumaca, Mota, Miquero. But the one with the largest number of followers, Gaspar Mejias, could have been from the old Guahaba elite or possibly one whose ascent was tied to the changes introduced by the encomienda system (Arranz Marquez 571). Judging by the small indigenous population assigned to encomenderos, one can only safely speculate that the Spanish conquest, encomienda system, disease, and flight to Cuba significantly lowered its population by c. 1514.

The Morales map of Hispaniola showing the northwest.

Even the excellent map of Morales, a great source for understanding, to some extent, the indigenous geography of our island, is of limited utility for Guahaba. Some places in northwestern Haiti are listed by their Spanish names, although some of the rivers and bodies of water retain indigenous toponyms. For example, Guanacano, south of Lares de Guahaba.The river "Hany" also appears on the map, flowing near Lares de Guahaba. Other places listed are too hard to read clearly, but the place at Haiti's northwestern tip appears to read Yahaba. Is this Guahaba? This region is certainly closer to Cuba than where Lares de Guahaba was founded, perhaps closer to the 18 leagues from Cuba mentioned previously. If so, the name must have been applied to a much larger area, extending to the east to Marien, the cacicazgo of Guacanagari. Yet the location of Lares de Guahaba and its proximity to rivers means this area could have been the population center of Guahaba in precolonial times. 

A dog figure found at the site excavated by Barker, possibly a capital of Guahaba (Olsen, On the Trail of the Arawaks). Olsen likens the figure to the dog cemi, Opiyel-Guarobiran.

If one looks to archaeology, only one settlement that was likely in Guahaba has been closely studied. Located on the old Lacorne habitation in Haiti, this site was known as early as 1947. In fact, Michel Aubourg, author of Haiti prehistorique, wrote that this was the site of 1000 huts described by Columbus when he first visited Haiti (54). This site was located 3 km from Trois Rivieres, south of the Tortuga Channel, and bordered on the east by Trois Rivieres. To its south lay the Lacorne habitation (27). Aubourg also believed it was a fishing village or settlement. Fred Olsen, in On the Trail of the Arawaks summarized the research of Paul Barker at the site. Many female figures were found there (Cadet site), and he believed it was the settlement of 1000 houses mentioned by Columbus. Some perhaps implausible figures are also suggested: 5-15,000 residents (114). Again, Columbus's problematic figures came from someone who did not see the settlement in question. Further, it was in his interest to portray the New World as agriculturally rich and full of people to justify the expenses. Still, it does appear that the Cadet site surveyed by Barker was large. Valmé, presumably drawing from Barker's work, described the site as including 240 houses (181). If this is accurate, this was definitely a very large settlement, possibly one of the largest in the Antilles. 

A narcotic grinder in the form of a frog from Guahaba (Olsen, On the Trail of the Arawaks).

As for the Spanish chroniclers and Columbus, they too are not detailed for Guahaba. Columbus, whose journal described northwestern Haiti, mentioned a group of Spaniards he sent to a large village in a valley 4.5 leagues southeast of the coast. This village, allegedly possessing over 1000 houses, was identified by the editor of the Markham edition and translation as modern Gros Morne (108). The people of this village also had hair over their shoulders and a river ran through the center of the valley. This does sound like modern Gros Morne, but further inland than the site at Cadet mentioned by Barker, which raises a number of questions. If the larger populated center was further inland, this would likely have been closer to where the Spanish later founded Lares de Guahaba. Columbus's son, whose The Life of the Admiral is also available in translation, described the same settlement. According to his biography, Columbus sent 9 men to this large inland village about 4 leagues from the coast, where they saw a village of more than 1000 huts in a valley (76). The details match those of Columbus's account, although now it is a little closer to the coast. 

Votive offering figure in the shape of a turtle's head from the Cadet site in Guahaba (Olsen, On the Trail of the Arawaks).

Besides Columbus and his son, the only other sources are the standard cronista accounts of the pacification of the island after Ovando's destruction of Xaragua. Rodrigo Mexia Trillo was sent north of Xaragua where he presumably clashed with Hatuey and other caciques in northern Haiti, ultimately defeating them and establishing Lares de Guahaba. Hatuey fled to Cuba and later resisted that island's conquest when Diego Velazquez arrived in 1511. According to Las Casas, about 50 years earlier Haitians had migrated to Cuba. Oliver has suggested this connection between eastern Cuba and Haiti can be seen in Taino complexes at Pueblo Viejo, Baní, Maisí, and Bayamo (161). It is thus more likely that migrations and cultural influence between peoples of Cuba and Haiti extended much further back in time. This contact must have facilitated the ability of Hatuey to establish himself in Maisí with his followers from Haiti. But besides passing references to Guahaba or Guahava in the campaign of Rodrigo Mexia Trillo and mention of Hatuey's flight to Cuba, little else is known.

Dog-shaped amulets in conch found by Barker in Haiti (On the Trail of the Arawaks).

Of course, one could not end the tale of Guahaba without following up on Hatuey's political career in Cuba. Established in Maisí, the heroic struggle of Hatuey was repeated by Las Casas. Las Casas, who may have deviated from historical truth to assign to Hatuey a special areito in which the god of the Christians was condemned (gold) and his epic refusal to become a Christian before his execution, is the best known source on this. However, whether or not this areito occurred or if Hatuey truly refused to go to heaven because Christians would be there, is not the point. Hatuey's resistance, which only lasted about 3 months in a guerrilla-styled conflict according to Mira Caballos, failed. But in a letter possibly from 1509 (or closer to 1511), Hatuey was described as "señoreaba la media Cuba" (330). To what extent this was hyperbole is also unclear, but Hatuey may have risen to a position of much greater authority than Maisi, easternmost Cuba. Indeed, his authority may have been more than that of a war-chief as speculated by Loven (504). This could have been reinforced by longstanding ties between eastern Cuba and Haiti with earlier alliances between caciques of the two islands that are not recorded in the Spanish sources. This may have made Hatuey an attractive figure for Cubans to support, particularly if he was a higher-ranking cacique in Guahaba before his flight from Haiti.

The monument to Hatuey in Baracoa, Cuba (Wikipedia)

Lamentably, his leadership did not coalesce into a larger anti-Spanish front. Yet despite his death by 1512, Hatuey's anti-Spanish movement was carried on by Caguax, who had served under him. Ultimately, the fate of Hatuey's followers is revealed only by 1514, in a letter by Velazquez. In his letter, he alluded to the Indians of "Yacahuey" or "Yahatuey" working for the Spaniards on estancias  near the Toha river. Some were even "free Christians" tied to the church of San Salvador. Indians still living in the region in the second half of the 16th century possibly include descendants of Hatuey's people. Lopez de Velasco mentioned "indios" living in Baracoa, Santiago, and Baracoa in the 1570s. To what extent Hatuey was remembered or the links to Guahaba is unanswerable, though Hatuey later became a symbol of Cuban nationalism and anti-colonial struggle.

In conclusion, Guahaba remains yet important chiefdom in the indigenous past of Haiti. The early sources that describe northwestern Haiti are often vague or difficult to correlate with the limited archaeological evidence. It is possible that Hatuey, the legendary cacique from Guahaba, was a paramount chief of the area before fleeing to Cuba. One of the largest known settlements in Haiti was also likely in the territory of Guahaba, though it is impossible to say this was the capital of the province. Similarly hard to answer is the relationship of Guahaba to Marien, its eastern neighbor. If Spanish sources describing Guacanagari as a paramount chief are accurate, Guahaba may have fallen under Marien's sphere of influence. Nonetheless, a very large settlement within Guahaba, possibly a fishing settlement, suggests it was a densely populated area. Guahaba's location in northwestern Haiti also made it ideal for exchange with Cuba and the Bahamas. This factor likely explains why Hatuey was able to lead followers to Cuba and find support from indigenous people there. In the future, archaeologists should revisit the Manigat and Cadet sites studied by Barker. Additional surveys in northwestern Haiti may reveal other sizable settlements in this part of the island.

Bibliography

Aubourg, Michel. Haiti prehistorique : mémoire sur les cultures precolombiennes, Ciboney et Taino. Port-au-Prince: Editions Panorama, 1966.

Arranz Márquez, Luis. Repartimientos y encomiendas en la isla Española: El Repartimiento de Albuquerque de 1514. Madrid: Ediciones Fundación García Arévalo, 1991.

Columbus, Christopher, and Clement Robert Markham. The Journal of Christopher Columbus: (during His First Voyage, 1492-93), and Documents Relating to the Voyages of John Cabot and Gaspar Corte Real. New York: B. Franklin, 1970.

Deagan, Kathleen A. En Bas Saline: A Taíno Town Before and After Columbus. Gainesville, FL: University of Florida Press, 2023.

Keegan, William F., and Florida Museum of Natural History. Taíno Indian Myth and Practice: The Arrival of the Stranger King. Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2007.

Mira Caballos, Esteban. El indio antillano: repartimiento, encomienda y esclavitud (1492-1542). 1. ed. Sevilla: Múñoz Moya Editor, 1997.

Oliver, José R. 2009. Caciques and Cemí Idols : The Web Spun by Taíno Rulers between Hispaniola and Puerto Rico. Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press.

Olsen, Fred. On the Trail of the Arawaks. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1974.

Tejera, Emiliano, Emilio Tejera, and Pedro Henríquez Ureña. Palabras Indígenas De La Isla De Santo Domingo. Ciudad Trujillo: Editora del Caribe, 1951.

Valmé, Gilbert R. Atabey, Yacayequey, Caney, 6000 Ans D'aménagement Territorial Préhispanique Sur L'île D'Ayiti: Haïti/République Dominicaine : Une Approche Holistique Du Patrimoine Zux Antilles : Les Paysages Culturels. Pompano Beach, Florida: Educa Vision, 2012.

Vega, Bernardo. Los Cacicazgos de la Hispaniola. 3. ed. Santo Domingo: Fundación Cultural Dominicana, 1990.

The Machina Palace

One of the disappointing aspects of the study of Sayfawa royal architecture is the absence of adequate photographs, plans, and sketches of the old palace complex at Machina, Nigeria. Long known to be the only fired-brick construction sponsored by the Sayfawa that is still in use (the others have been plundered for building material or ravaged by time and sackings), Machina's palace structure has undoubtedly been modernized or restored in the 20th century (and likely the 21st, too). But finding photographs of what the palace complex looked like has led us to Google and social media accounts by Nigerians from Yobe State or Machina itself. These images, however, do not provide a complete overview of the palace complex. Nor does Google Earth clearly display an outline of the palace complex. 

In spite of these aforementioned limitations, the photographs online do offer some clues as to how the brick structure might have looked in the past. In addition, it was also similar to other sites in Borno and possibly the larger "Central Sudan" region. For instance, the circular structure in which the Machinama (king of Machina) is seated while talking to guests may be how circular, brick structures were used in Birni Gazargamo, Gambaru, and other sites. These brick buildings with a courtyard for hosting visitors or relatives were part of a larger palatial complex of buildings with brick walls. Besides this feature, the old brick walls for a structure that appears to have been retained in front of newer concrete walls may have been the reception space for larger audiences. Alternatively, it may have once been part of the walls of the original house for the king, possibly lost when the ruling family favored concrete and other materials to modernize the palace.

In terms of historical sources and studies, Machina's palace was noted by colonial-era officials, travelers, and subsequent, post-colonial scholars. C.J. Lethem, whose 1919 report on the Marchena District report has been digitized, was told the palace was unique for having a main gate facing the east rather than the west. Supposedly, this was done so the palace's gate could face toward Birni Gazargamo. Moreover, Lethem believed the bricks at Machina's palace were smaller than those of Gazargamo and Gambaru. Yet despite its smaller size, the structure in the early 20th century had one hall, which was 20 feet high, plus 54 layers of brick in its walls. The structure was in need of repair, however, especially the roof and arches. Unfortunately, Lethem did not include a sketch or plan for the palace. To his credit, however, he recorded an early version of Machina history based on a chronicle lost when Zinder attacked the town in c. 1896 (or was it just a girgam?). This chronicle, rewritten based on memory, extended the history of the town 988 years. It similarly made the original rulers of the town Sao (So). 

But the chronicle sought to connect Machina with the origin of Sayfawa consolidation at Gazargamo in the 15th century. According to this tradition, the first mai to settle at Gazargamo sent troops to the west to capture a woman who could bear a son for him (no previous wife had sons). The woman the Bornoan forces seized was actually a Machina woman who was the wife of the Machina Sao hunter, Bolo. Unbeknownst to the ruler of Borno, this Machina woman was already pregnant with a son, born in Borno. She later bears the Sayfawa king another child, named Arigu like her previous son. Then, in a case of mistaken identity, her first son succeeded to the throne. After calamity, people in Borno realize her second son was the legitimate heir. With his half-brother on the throne, the son of the Machina chief returns to Machina. But missed by his dear half-brother in Gazargamo, he is visited by the Sayfawa mai. In order to make sure his brother lives in an appropriately royal setting, the Sayfawa mai "sent for a supply of the famous Birni bricks, or, according to another account, hade them made at Mijirik, near Gumsi "(Lethem 4). If taken at face value, this account would make Ali Gaji the step-father of Arigu, the first Machina leader to live in a brick palace. Since there are no sources to corroborate what is clearly a legend of origin, and we have no records of a Sayfawa mai named Arigu who ruled after Ali Gaji, this account is nonetheless interesting for not claiming direct descent from a Sayfawa mai. Even if its attempts to connect the Machina dynastic line to an earlier period in Borno history, the fact that they don't assert a Sayfawa origin may represent some historical truth. Indeed, according to Lethem, the chiefs of Machina were Walu, a group possibly tied to the Dagira peoples.

The next person to describe the palace of Machina was Migeod, whose Through Nigeria to Lake Chad was published in 1924. Migeod saw the palace, describing it as a brick house with a brick wall around it. He also thought the bricks were carried from Gazargamo a little over 100 years ago, when the Sayfawa capital was abandoned. Moreover, the Machina palace was in poor condition by the time Migeod saw it. Consequently, the Machinama was in the process of rebuilding it. Nonetheless, Migeod still observed large pillars and arches and a square-shaped reception hall with 4 arches (Migeod 278). Is it possible this is the most imposing of the brick structures seen today? It is quite clear that Migeod was wrong to suggest the brick palace was only built in the 1800s and with plundered bricks from Gazargamo. This is contradicted by Lethem's sources and may have been a reflection of the limited knowledge of fired-brick structures west of Lake Chad at the time. Interesting, Migeod's book included 2 photos of walls from the Gambaru palace structure, whose bricks do bear a resemblance to those of Machina. 

With the exception of John Lavers, whose research on Machina's palace is difficult to find, Wilhelm Seidensticker seems to the most recent scholar to investigate the site. In a short essay on brick technology in Borno ("Borno and the East: Notes and Hypotheses on the Technology of Burnt Bricks"), he referred to Machina's palace as a complex with several impressive brick buildings. Furthermore, Machina tradition attributes the bricks to Gazargamo. The people there even described the bricks differently, based on color. In another essay, entitled "Archaeometric investigations on burnt bricks from six archaeological sites in Nigeria and Niger," Seidensticker et al. wrote of preliminary chemical analysis of bricks from different parts of Borno. The Machina bricks, though said to have come from Gazargamo by oral tradition, were actually unlike the samples from every other site (Lergam, Gazargamo, Gambaru, Kukawa graves of al-Kanemi shehus, Garumele, Garukime). Although further analysis is necessary, the chemical analysis of the bricks from these sites may suggest that masons and bricklayers sponsored by the Sayfawa were sent to various locations. These artisans may have used local materials for their bricks. In fact, this theory is the most sensible since it is difficult to imagine large quantities of bricks being moved from across vast distances if local materials could be sourced and prepared to complete elite structures at Machina, Gambaru, Garumele, Lergam, Garukime, and other sites. Of course, actually dating the bricks and a more thorough chemical analysis are required to understand the chronology and when Machina's palace came into being. 

Ultimately, we can only hope for complete photographs of the site, dating of the bricks, and further study and comparison with Borno and Kanem fired-brick sites. The traditions of Machina suggest that the palace was built by a Sayfawa mai for a half-brother who ruled at Machina. This tradition may not stand up to scrutiny, but is interesting nonetheless for providing an example of Sayfawa elite agriculture "extended" to Machina. This brings to mind the Sayfawa sponsorship of a brick mosque for the Kalumbardo community, although possible Sayfawa descent for the second movement's founder has been suggested by Bobboyi. Further, the Machina palace structure, despite modernization, has elements comparable to other fired-brick structures in the Central Sudan. Further study of the largest brick building and the use of arches or pillars may help us understand how Gazargamo, Gambaru or Njimi structures looked. Since the bricks used at Gazargamo and Gambaru were larger, we should probably expect Machina's palace to have been much smaller than what the Sayfawa rulers used for their own elite residences. 

Anacaona's Gift

Anacaona's Gift: Cotton and the woven arts of the 11th to 17th century Caribbean by Joanna Ostapkowicz is a must-read for anyone interested in the material culture and history of the indigenous peoples of the Caribbean. Despite the paucity of extant materials made of cotton, the archival sources, Spanish chronicles, ethnographic analogies with South American peoples, and close analysis of ceramics and indigenous sculpture reveal often neglected aspects of Taino textile production and weaving traditions. Ostapkowicz presents compelling evidence for cotton production and weaving as one of great importance for the indigenous peoples economically, socially and politically and religiously. Cotton, as a source of material for wrapping cemis or for making hats, caps, naguas, masks, crowns, belts, capes, arm and leg bands, hammocks, burial shrouds, was undoubtedly a specialist activity for the most elaborate and best products. This made it an extension of cacical power or authority, particularly if the caciques controlled the storehouses where cotton was stored before redistributing it through their families, communities or other caciques. It is possible that elite women may have been the ones responsible for producing the best quality cotton goods, such as those using gold, shell, stone, feathers, and other products to produce refined cemis, belts, or elite regalia. Indeed, their elite status likely freed them from some of the other daily domestic duties of women who likely wove most of the cloth used by the indigenous societies of the island.

Much of the book analyzes closely each example or type of item made with or using cloth in so-called Taino and Kalinago cultures. This close analysis includes basketry, too, for additional examples of weaving use fiber materials. But the bulk of the analysis focuses on types of clothing and the application of cotton materials for wrapping or constructing materials like belts or cemi materials. The artistic and labor skills required to have produced some of the best examples must have been astonishing, which suggests there were specialized textile workers. Similarly, the production of the most elaborate stools (duhos) and platters or wooden objects similarly required experienced workers. Their close association with caciques, especially in the production of items and goods that, at their most refined level, were for elites, attests to a degree of power and hierarchy in the indigenous Caribbean chiefdoms more complex than many realize. Perhaps interpreting too literally Columbus and other chroniclers who often emphasized the nudity of the Taino, scholars have truly missed another dimension of the complex material culture. Indeed, some of these elaborate works featured thousands of beads, different weaving patterns, complex geometric patterns, and skillful use of gold or feathers. The arm bands, caps, skirts, and hammocks, sadly, have not survived, but the level of skill required to produce them (and in quantity) are a testament to the relatively high level of production. 

An area not fully explored however, and this is due to our limited sources in terms of surviving artifacts, is the extent to which the entire population of the cacicazgo had access to certain goods, like hammocks. Moscoso, for example, seemed to think hammocks were not universally used by all Taino. Similarly, the shortages of hammocks and the importation of cloth from Europe (not enough in the early colonial period, but a source for hammocks for settlers who took to the hammock) deserves further inquiry. To what extent were indigenous weavers in Jamaica learning to make European-styled clothes? Was there an increase in the scale of production for the "market" during European colonial rule, despite the lack of interest by Spaniards for cotton plantations in places like Hispaniola? What about Xaragua, when its tribute to Columbus was in cotton and included extra cotton treasures give by Anacaona? In other words, what were the mechanisms for the increase in textile production before colonialism? Was Xaragua, already noted for its cotton, producing a surplus for trade with other parts of Hispaniola, Cuba, and Jamaica? And to what extent were Taino products possibly exported south to the Lesser Antilles or the South American mainland for items like guanin? 

This Is Not a Tango

Although we never heard of The Juju Orchestra until recently, randomly encountering the above song was an interesting experience. The immediately recognizable sample of the bassist in "Olé Coltrane" plus Astor Piazzolla somehow works in a song. The song's use of funk and irresistible polyrhythmic drumming also meshes very well with Piazzolla and Coltrane. Is that an afrobeat sample played by the guitar?