asturian american tale ! you are going to love this one ,,

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asturian american tale ! you are going to love this one ,,

Post by ayalgueru »

you are going to absolutely love this one ,,,


http://www.lne.es/secciones/noticia.jsp ... cia=526199


An asturian american tale of my favourite asturian language writer Milio Cueto ,, published today in asturian newspaper la nueva espana , see link above.


[MILIO RODRÍGUEZ CUETO]



De Minnesota, onde pasó un añu poniendo escuela, l'escritor Xuan Santori tréxome una pluma blanca y prieta d'aigla pescadora, unaemi pluma de la tribu prendee, una pluma d'un pariente: un Concheso de La Rebollar.

Nun fue'l Méxicu llaniscu, nin l'Arxentina ayerana, nin la Cuba de toles Asturies el destín migratoriu qu'escoyeron los de La Rebollar ente'l XIX y el XX. Los del mio pueblu tiraron más pal fríu: pa Minnesota. Una publicación reciente y concienzuda de Luis Arias González (nun ye la primer vez qu'acudo a él nestes páxines), Emigración perendina en América: la ruta del olvido, remóntanos hasta l'añu 1860, cuando'l votu circa misiones lleva a Amadeo Concheso Cueto, xesuita novatu, hasta'l Mediu Oeste norteamericanu. La Compañía, más o menos asentada daquella en Missouri, Illinois y Wisconsin, miraba alluendi, más al interior y al norte, pal océanu espiritual de los chippewa onde, pal entender del Provincial, afogábense dolorosamente almes primitives. Pa más desgracia, una cuerda de presbiterianos, foínos, anduvieren espabilaos enredando a los dakota de Lac-qui-parle coles sos herexíes, y a la fe verdadera nun-y quedaba otra qu'espabilar y mandar volao colonos espirituales primero que'l cáncanu protestante s'espardiere ente aquellos ignorantes indefensos.

El padre Amadeo, mozu entamador y aventureru, llegó a territoriu chippewa en mula y compañeru d'un hermanu belga con más voluntá que salú, que garró unos mocos necios por meter los pies nel Mississippi (y eso que yera pel veranu) y, d'espirríu n'espirríu, acabó dándoles primero de bautizar nativu ningún.

Enterrando santamente al belga al pie d'un pinu coloráu centenariu, les mules beatífiques paciendo del verde virxinal del Mediu Oeste, el padre Amadeo vio a los sos primeros chippewa: tres cazadores inespresivos que lu observaron, mangaos a pelu enriba otros tantos mustang y colos arcos al llombu, ensin dar muestres cristianes de compasión nin ánimu d'ayuda. Por fin, cuando'l padre Amadeo acabó d'espetar la obligada cruz de madera na tumba del amigu y, secando'l mugor cola manga del hábitu, rezó un padrenuestru de despedida, los indios garraron del ramal les mules misioneres y, a pasu calmosu, fueron guiando al xesuita hasta'l so campamentu. Véolu perdese na borrina norteamericana, una mancha escura diliéndose tres de los rabos ximelgones de los mustang. La Midewiwin Society de Sparta guarda un rollu de corteya de bidul (reproduzlu Luis Arias na obra citada) que da testimoniu de la llegada del padre Amadeo ente la tribu. Vese nella un home que s'allega a un tipi andando tres d'un équidu y, depués, enseña n'alto una cruz.

Dexamos equí, un inviernu feroz como toos nesa tierra de naide, al padre Amadeo, desapaecíu pa la Compañía de Xesús y más tovía pa la familia de Perendi. Pero, na seronda de 1861, sorprendentemente y a saber siguiendo qué ruta inimaxinable, llega a La Rebollar, a casa Concheso (d'esa casa tócame a mi un cuartu de sangre), carta del misioneru marcada col sellu del Pony Express. El documentu figura tamién ente los rescataos n'Emigración perendina en América: la ruta del olvido, y cuenta, con detalle, les penuries de la xeladera continental y les alegríes primaverales, coses que malamente podíen llamar l'atención de los parientes lectores. Y, allá pal final del escritu, el clérigu dexa caer, pa mi que con intención llaína:

«[...] El verde crece alto y no exagero si os digo que la caza es algo digno de admirarse. Bisontes, que por aquí dicen búfalos, osos negros de mediano tamaño, grandes ciervos y otros que no conocemos en Asturias ni en Europa, gigantescos y con cuernos planos, que los indios llaman muus, parecen acudir a buscar quien los mate. Cualquiera de los de nuestro pueblo, tan aficionados a la escopeta como somos, creería haber dado con el Paraíso en la tierra [...].»

Nun nos cai embaxo'l puntín heterodoxu, casi heréticu, y claramente premonitoriu de la frase final del padre Amadeo. Pero, naquel momentu, lo qu'emocionó a la familia, al pueblu y al conceyu enteru fue la noticia d'un edén cinexéticu. En tres meses, una tropiella de mozos perendinos embarca nel Musel. Caún colaba cola ilusión de ser el primeru en quita-y l'abrigu a un osu negru y la montera a ún d'esos misteriosos ciervos monumentales. En Cuba, faen tresbordu a Nueva Orleáns cola idea de siguir el cursu enteru del Mississippi pal norte nun vapor, a saber si'l mesmu que guardaba en timón les marques dactilares de Mark Twain. Pero les feches nun son propicies: nel país hai una guerra civil que parte'l ríu y la navegación pel mediu, y los cazadores perendinos, allampiando poles preses que-yos tien acutaes el padre Amadeo cerca les fontes septentrionales, tienen qu'esperar, enllamorgaos, hasta que'l xeneral Ulysses S. Grant vuelve a abrir la taquilla d'embarque en 1863, depués de la batalla de Vicksburg. Entamen el camín pal norte, por fin, y nel gran nudu de comunicaciones y d'esperances de San Lluis crúcense con viaxeros non menos heroicos qu'ellos, que treviesen el continente pal oeste llamaos pol oru de California. Anque la migración perendina debíase a una causa más noble que l'avaricia, algún desertor sí lu hubo, que se dexó tentar pol metal y punxo la vista nel far west (d'ente estos, tengo que falar otru día de Manolón Tuero, Swift Big Tuero, qu'acabó de pistoleru ente Kansas y Wisconsin hasta fichar pola llei en Dodge City; contra lo que cuenta la historia, fue él, y non Doc Holliday, el que-y salvó la vida a Wyatt Earp en 1878, disparando contra un vaqueru borrachu que lu tenía encañonáu pola espalda nuna engarrada de chigre... pero, ya digo: eso, pa otra vez). Por fin, paez ser que, a últimos del veranu del 63, tán ya en Minnesota. Nun hai correspondencia inmediata (el Pony Express fue flor d'un día), pasen años hasta que llega a La Rebollar noticia nueva de los rapazos emigraos. Vuelve a ser de puñu y lletra del padre Amadeo... o d'Osu qu'esguila, por dir adelantando acontecimientos:

«[...] El jefe Llobu tuertu soñó con un osu que arrepegaba por un árbol, y a la mañana siguiente fue a mi al primero que vio, por eso me pusieron ese nombre: Osu que esguila [...]»

Obsérvese cómo Osu qu'esguila introduz palabres asturianes nel so discursu, como si l'idioma maternu-y facilitare la integración naquel mundu cenciellu, natural. Pero, ¿a qué se dedicó tou esti tiempu? ¿Tien ya, alredor d'él, una parroquia católica de chippewas?:

«[...] Desde esa, parece que noto yo el manitú de un oso dentro, como el espíritu del oso. También los mozos notan cada uno su manitú. Ladio de Predestina tiene el de un águila, y Olegario de Mariona el de una llóndriga, y Gasparón de Faraguyes, que sigue teniendo muy mal genio, el de un llobu. [...]»

¿Cumpliéronse les espectatives que los llevaron tan alantrones?:

«[...] Cazan mucho, muchísimo, alguno incluso ha aprendido a usar el arco y las flechas, y no con desventaja con respecto a nuestros vecinos los indios, y damos gracias a la Madre Tierra por ello. Por otra parte, ya sabéis que no les gusta escribir. Yo creo que, el que sabía, hasta se está olvidando. Y es que tampoco es fácil encontrar papel. Este, se lo cambié a un trampero francés por pieles de llóndriga. Además, tampoco tenemos en los tipis las comodidades que pide la escritura. Los tipis son las casas de los indios, y también las nuestras ahora, porque se arman y desarman con tanta facilidad que no hay mejor vivienda para quien tiene que perseguir la caza de estación en estación [...]»

Vese que se fixeron al mediu darreo. Pero, ¿qué queda del clérigu evanxelizador que quería llindiar almes montunes pa les brañes del Cielu?:

«[...] Dejo para el final lo mejor. Madre, tienes dos nietos: un neñu y una neña. El neñu se llama Cuervu en la nieve, la neña Hoja de Bidul. También Predes tienes un nieto, y Casilda de la Panerona tres, y Amalia la mio tía va ser abuela pronto, dentro de tres lunas, igual ya lo es cuando llegue esta carta. [...]»

El sustu fue monumental en pueblu, tan redondu y macizu que nun dexó casi sitiu pa l'alegría.

Esa fue la última carta que llegó a La Rebollar d'Amadeo.

Cuerre'l sieglu XIX a suicidase, inaugurando, n'Asturies, mines y fumos. Ya naide s'acuerda d'aquella espedición de cazadores perendinos si nun ye mui de ralo en ralo: ¿quién lo diba facer cuando tantos rapazos del conceyu tienen que vistir uniforme y despidise pa lluchar en Cuba? Nestes, recíbese otra carta inesperada en casa Concheso, una misiva curtia, directa:

«Güela: Osu qu'esguila morrió. Los tambores sonaron tola noche. Ente los grandes pinos, amontonemos tierra y enriba fiximos el jiibegamig. Agora, Osu qu'esguila ta cola Madre Tierra. El tíu Llobu coxu quier saber si tien herencia en La Peruyal. Fueya de Bidul.»

La redacción asturiana nun dexaba duldes sobre la vuelta de los emigrantes a un mundu esclusivamente oral, primitivu.

En 1928, Edward S. Curtis visitó Chippewa County nel cursu de la so monumental obra fotográfica sobre los nativos norteamericanos. D'esa espedición queda la semeya, ente munchos cientos d'elles, d'un grupu d'indios esfoyando un ciervu delantre una tienda decorada con motivos animales. Los indios miren un momentín pa la cámara, y más d'un d'ellos, anque turriáu pola vida albentestate, paez que tien la pelleya más clara, la nariz menos angulosa, los güeyos menos resgaos, el pelu de les coletes menos prieto. Curtis anotó na semeya: Prendeetribe. Outstanding hunters.

Prendee, «Prendi», Perendi.

Permediaos los noventa (ayer, como'l que diz), Xuan Santori asistió a un gran pow-wow que se celebraba en Sparta, Minnesota. Mientres los demás indios bailaben en círculu doblaos cara al suelu, caún siguiendo'l ritmu inesplicable que-y marcaben sueños reveladores, los prendee llevantaben los brazos pal cielu y blincaben subiendo los pies hasta les rodiyes. Aquella danza resultó-y raramente familiar a Xuan, llamólu a charrar con ún de los bailarines, un vieyu de la Midewiwin que sabía cuatro palabres, ya ensin xacíu pa él, de la fala d'unos antepasaos que llegaron a cazar búfalos, ciervos y alces. «Untu, cuchiellu, fueu, prendee», recitó. Y regaló-y la pluma blanca y prieta d'aigla pescadora qu'agora tengo yo na mano, la última carta d'unos primos remotos.


-------


if need be I can translate to english later ,, I am at work now :roll:
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Post by Barbara Alonso Novellino »

Please translate.

Thank you...

Barbara
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Post by Terechu »

B-U-E-N-I-S-I-M-O !!!!!

Los de Perendi (¿dónde será esi Macondo asturianu de Milio?) son la hostia. Me parto con los nombres: Manolón Tuero "Swift Big Tuero", que salvó la vida a Wyatt Earp! :lol: :lol:
La siguiente generación que escribe a Casa Concheso preguntando por herencia: " El tíu Llobu coxu quier saber si tien herencia en La Peruyal".

Gracies, Ayalgueru. Menos mal que estás pendiente de estes joyes.
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Post by ayalgueru »

As promised !.

My translation is pretty awful , it really does no justice to the original but there we go :)

------------

It was from Minnesota where Xuan Santori , a writer , had spent one year teaching , that he brought me a feather , it was black and white , a fishing eagle feather. A feather from preened tribe , a feather from a relative : one of the Concheso de la reobollar.

It was not Llane’s Mexico or Ayer’s Argentina or the All asturias’ Cuba that the Rebollar family choose as their destiny when they migrated , it a much colder place . Minessota. A recent and thorough publication by Luis Arias Gonzalez , ( it is not the first time I refer to him on my writings ) “Perendi’s (* an asturian village where milio’s writings take place *) Migration to America , the forgotten path” takes us back to 1860 when the missionary Amadeo Concheso a young Jesuit is sent to the American mid west. The company , already well established in Missouri, Illinois y Wisconsin , was looking further up north and inland to the Chippewa spiritual ocean where , , to the provincial’s understanding , primitive souls were drowning. Even worse ,a bunch of evil Presbyterians were quick enough to bamboozle the dakota de Lac-qui-parle with their heretic beliefs so the only true faith had no other choice but to be quick and send the spiritual colonist before the protestant cancer could spread among the defenceless heathens.


Father Amadeo , a young man with an entrepreneurial and adventurous spirit arrived to Chippewa land riding his mule. His companionship was another young Jesuit a Belgian with more will than good health with a nasty cold after a getting his feet in the Mississippi ( although it was summer time ) and sneeze after sneeze met his maker before he got round to do any conversions.

After giving Christian burial to the Belgian priest , right by the a red pine tree , while the mules were happily munching the virgin mid west prairie , that was when father Amadeo saw the first Chippewa approaching , three expressionless hunters , all three on their horse , all carrying their mustang and their bows hanging on their shoulders. Not showing any Christians compassion for the dead or any signs of willingness to help. When father Amadeo finally finished setting the wooden cross and drying the sweat that pearled his forehead , he prayed a paternoster. The Indians took the mules and the priest and brought him back to their camp.

I can now seem him getting lost in the north American mist , a dark stain melting behind the slinging mustangs. The Midewiwin Society of Sparta keeps a birch tree crust rolled up ( a picture of which can be found in Luis Aria’s book) with evidence of Amadeo’s arrival to the tribe. You can see a drawing of a man arriving to an Indian tipi walking behind a mule and showing a cross.

Let’s leave here father Amadeo , lost to thje company of jesus and even more lost to his family back in Perendi. Autumn 1861 surprisingly and god knows how , a letter arrives to La rebollar , to concheso’s house ( I am a quarter Concheso myself ). The letter had a Pony express stamp. This unique document can also be found on Perendi’s Migration to America , the forgotten path , the letter tells of the freezing continental winter and the joys of spring , things not necessarily very exciting for the relatives reading however , coming to the end of the letter , and I think with some second intention Amadeo wrote

«[...] green grows high here and I would not be exagerating if I say that it is worth of admiration. Bisons , here they call them buffalos can be found , medium size black bears , rain deer and others which have never been seen in Asturias or in Europe with some flat horns which the Indians call moose , all of them seem to come willingly to their hunters. Anyone from our village , they all love their rifles there , would believe he has just entered paradise [...].»



His last sentence , unorthodox , close to heresy , got everyone’s attention. What got really captured people’s imagination was the description of an real hunter’s Eden. Three months later a bunch of perendi lads embarks on Musel harbour. Each one of them had daydreams of taking a Black bear’s winter coat and dreamed of the deer’s horns hanging off their walls. On cuba they change ship , off to new Orleans they go , with only one idea in mind , travel up the Mississippi on a steam boat northwards. The times , however , were not the best for travelling , there was an ongoing civil war in the country interrupting transport. Only after Vicksburg can they resume their travel. They go northwards and reach that crossroad of railways and hopes , St Louis. On their way they meet equally heroic travellers , people migrating west to California following the gold rush. Although Perendi’s migration had more noble and higher reaching objectives than that of those going to California some of the lads got too tempting and abandoned their hunting dreams to go to the far west , among them Manolón Tuero, Swift Big Tuero who was an outlawed between Kansas and Wisconsin , before he join forces with the law in dodge city. Against common belief it was him and not Doc Holliday who saved Wyatt Earp’s life in 1878 , gunning down a drunken cowboy who had his gun against Wyatt’s back during a drunken brawl. I will tell you all about Swift Big Tuero some other time.

It looks like by the end of summer 63 they arrived to Minnesota. There is not immediate communication ( The Pony Express only lasted an eye blink ) years come and go before news of the lads get home. It is again father Amadeo’s own writing AKA Climbing Bear , ( for the reasons I will tell later )

«[...] chielf one-eye wolf dreamed about a bear climbing a tree and the first thing he saw the following morning was myself hence my new nameclimbing bear [...]»

This second letter already introduced some asturian words , just like if his mother tongue would help him blend in that simpler , more natural world. But what was he up to for this long time ? did he already have a roman catholic parish of chippewas ?

«[...]since then I feel the manitu of a bear inside me , like the the spirit of a bear. All the lads have got their own manitu . Ladio of Predestina has got an eagle and Olegario of Mariona does have an otter inside and Gasparón de Faraguyes as angry as ever hsa got a wolf [...]»

Did reality meet their expectations ¿

«[...] they hunt constantly , some of them have even mastered the bow as good as the native Indians and we thank mother earth for that. On the other hand you know the are not very keen on writing. Those who could are forgetting about it ... also it is pretty hard to come across writing paper , I got this bit from a french hunter in exchange for a otter fur. Also the tippis we live in do not make writing easy. Tipis are Indian houses , the ones we live in now really , they can be disassemble and reassemble easily which makes it easy for us since we have to move around for our hunting. [...]»

It looks like out heroes have settled down fairly well but is their anything left of that idealistic missionary that wanted to sephard lost souls and make them a christian flock.


«[...] I left the best part for the end mather. You have two grandchildren a boy and a girl , the boy is called raven on the snow and the girl birch tree leave. Predes you also have a grandson and casilda of the panerona three and Amalia my aunt will also become a grandmother very soon , very probably she would have become one already by the time this letter reaches you [...]»



The shock in the village was great , so big that there was little room for left for joy regarding the good news.

And Amadeo’s last letter to reach la rebollar read as follows

Last years of XIX century rarely ever anyone remembers perendi’s hunting expedition any longer , Asturies mines and industrial fumes arrive. How could they remember as the young men are conscripted and leave for Cuba. Then suddenly another later arrives , a short direct letter.

«Gran , Climbing bear has died. Drums were played all night. Between the large pine trees we put some earther together and on top of it we made the jiibegamig. Climbing bear is now with mother earth. Uncle limping wolf would like to know if there is any heritage coming his way from la peruyal. Birch tree leave »

The letter fully written in asturian leaves little doubt that they have returned to an oral primitive world.


In 1928 Edward S. Curtis visited Chippewa County as part of his photographic work on native americans. Out of that expedition there is a picture of a group of Indians skinning a deer in front of a tippi. Some of them look briefly at the camera and although more than a couple although they have a tanned skin result of life outdoors seem to have fairer skin and some of them a less angular nose that is typical of the Indians , the eyes not so slit and the hair not that dark. Curtis wrte: Prendeetribe. Outstanding Hunters.

Prendee, «Prendi», Perendi.

Mid nineties , a couple years ago , Xuan Santori attended a great pow-wow in Sparta Minnesota. While most Indians danced in circles facing the floor each one dancing to his own tun in an uncoordinated way the prendee raised their arms to the sky and jumped raising their feet to knee level. That dance looked strangely familiar to Xuan, he came up to one of the dancer , an old man , the old man knew a few words that he learned from some ancestors that arrived to hunt deer, buffalos and moose «Untu, cuchiellu, fueu, prendee» asturian words that mean “ lard , knife , fire , prendee “ he also gave him the black and white feather that is now in my hand , the last letter from some remote relatives.
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Post by Mouguias »

Awesome! / ¡Fabuloso!
Oye una cosa, ¿Inspirariase Milio na hestoria de los emigrantes de Carreño?
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