Navajo
(Din-neh’)
The name by which the Navajo are known is not so much the name of a people as the name of a place. The neighboring Pueblo people referred to the area of the southwest that the Din-neh’ occupied as Navajo. The Spanish who later arrived referred to the Din-neh’ as Apaches de Navajo. This label was in time shortened to simply Navajo. Given all this excess phraseology, the Navajo have always referred to themselves as Din-neh’, which means “the people,” and their homeland as Dinetah’. Current usage of either two nouns is acceptable. However, it is best to use the name that the Din-neh’ have chosen for centuries.
Today the Din-neh’ are the largest Indian nation in the United States. Presently they account for fifteen percent of the Native American population as reported in the 1990 U.S. census. Their tribal numbers are in excess of 250,000 members. Occupying a vast area of the southwest, spreading across parts of Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado and Utah, Din-neh’ land encompasses an area larger than the states of Connecticut, Rhode Island, Massachusetts, and New Jersey combined. Chinle, near the geographic center of the Navajo Indian Reservation in northeastern Arizona, is at the entrance to Canyon de Chelly National Monument. Chinle became a center for population growth and trade after 1868 when the United States signed a treaty with the Navajos. The first trading post was established in 1882, the first mission in 1904, and the first government school in 1910.
Today the community, at an altitude of 5,082 feet, has been designated one of the major “growth centers” on the Navajo Reservation by the tribal government. It is an important trade, administrative, and educational center within the Chinle Chapter (a local government unit) and is headquarters for the Chinle Agency, one of five Bureau of Indian Affairs administrative jurisdictions on the reservation.
Josie Yellow Gourd’s (Navajo) Story
I interviewed Josie on the Navajo Reservation not far from the town of Chinle, which is located in the northeast quadrant of the state. Josie is a 41-year-old widow and mother of twin daughters’ aged 16. Our interview took place inside their mobile home, which is situated on deep red, rusty-colored desert land with wispy juniper trees growing in contorted shapes. Overhead is the endless vastness of turquoise blue sky.
Within such beauty, this location would be complete if not for the reality of poverty that lingered all around. As with some Native Americans, Josie daily endures such inconveniences as living without modern plumbing, electricity or heating. The interview was conducted in Josie’s kitchen. On the table were various small plastic tubes and glass jars containing a rainbow of assorted tiny, brightly colored glass beads. Josie and her daughters sew these beads onto leather and make hatbands, necklaces, earrings and bracelets. Once completed, they take these articles to local stores in town and either sell them or exchange them for personal items. Josie spoke in a calm, even tone when relating her personal experience with a witch and ghosts. Her daughters were in the adjoining living room and silently listened as their mother told me her story.
— Antonio
“My 70-year-old grandfather enjoys living in the traditional manner of us Navajos in a Navajo roundhouse or “hogan,” which is right next to our mobile home. He also prefers to speak only our native language. After my grandmother’s death, he lived alone in his hogan for over twenty years. Both he and grandmother lived together in a previous hogan, but after she died, Grandfather burned their original hogan, as is our tradition to do when the owner dies. A new hogan was built for Grandfather a short time later, and this is where he now lives.
About eight years ago, in the month of November, grandfather—who otherwise was in good health—began to suffer from headaches and body aches, which eventually caused him to be bedridden. When grandfather’s condition worsened he began to refuse food. After discussing his situation with my older brother, we both decided that it would be best to take him to a doctor in Window Rock. Grandfather was hesitant, but soon realized the logic in our decision to seek medical help. After being admitted into the clinic, he was taken through the long process of many blood tests and x-rays.
My brother and I spent three days in Window Rock at a friend’s house while grandfather was being cared for. When the results of the tests eventually came back from the lab, to our surprise and relief, they indicated that he only had a rise in blood sugar, which could be treated with drugs. Aside from this, his other tests were normal. Both my brother and I were still not totally convinced that all was well with him. We had seen the turn for the worse that our otherwise active and mentally alert grandfather had taken. His state of constant pain and fatigue was very unusual for him. The doctor prescribed pain medicine to help him sleep.
After filling the prescriptions we returned home. On the drive home, grandfather stated that he wanted to seek the help of a local medicine man in Chinle. Grandfather wanted to have a Sing. Among us Navajos, we have a curing ceremony, which we call a Sing. The “Sing” ceremony involves the participation of an elder medicine man or woman, special songs are sung, incense is burned, and a drum and other ritual items are used. It is a lengthy ceremony and highly respected among traditional Navajos. My brother and I assured my grandfather that we would honor his wishes and contact a medicine man back home. Arrangements were made with an elderly medicine man, and a date for the Sing was set.
Four nights before the ceremony, a strange thing happened to me. It had been snowing heavily during the day, and that evening, the moon was bright and full. At around 11 p.m. The barking of our dog, which we keep chained to our porch, awakened me. Usually she barks at skunks that live under the mobile home, or in response to the yelping of coyotes that sometimes come around our property. This time, her barking sounded different to me. It made me get out of my warm bed and walk to the window.
As I parted the curtains on the front door, I saw the image of a woman I did not recognize walking about my grandfather’s hogan. I reached for my jacket and boots, and walked outside. My dog was growling and barking. In the moonlit night, I followed this strange woman as she made her way to the rear of the hogan. When I yelled at her, “What do you want?” she did not respond. I decided to confront this strange woman. With my dog still barking loudly, I quickly made my way to the hogan as my footsteps crunched noisily into the foot-deep snow. About twenty feet away from the woman, I saw that she was wrapped in a dark shawl from head to toe. Her face was hidden from my sight. Something inside me made me stop in my tracks. As soon as I stopped, the woman suddenly turned away from me. What happened next made my mouth open wide.
The dark woman took off like a flash! She did not run, but seemed to float over the snow-covered ground without leaving a trace of footsteps! My dog barked and barked. I turned in the direction of the trailer and ran back. I missed a step and remember taking a hard fall. Once I reached the trailer I rushed inside and locked the door! Both my daughters told me that they had witnessed the whole affair from the safety of the mobile home window. I was out of breath and shaking. I knew that I had seen something evil outside. My girls were also shaken, and that night we all slept together.
The next day I wasted no time in telling my experience to my brother. After hearing my story, he knew that what had taken place that night had to be witchcraft. A ghost or witch had for some reason visited our property. My brother said, “Who knows how long these evil visits have been going on without us being aware of them?” We all decided that it would be best not to tell our grandfather for fear that such information would upset him, and we didn’t want to risk him becoming even more ill. We also knew that this new information needed to be related to our medicine man.
My brother drove me to the medicine man’s home, and we informed him of what I had seen. He was not surprised by my story. He said, “Oh, I know who this is.” Then he explained to us that there was a Navajo medicine woman who lived not far from his house who wanted to gain a reputation in the Indian community as being a powerful spiritual person. After I heard