TAOTAO MONA
TAOTAO MONA
BY JIMMY KASHI, OREGON STATE PENITENTIARY
Chamorro legends call them Taotao Mona, First Peoples of the Marianas — ancient ones who inhabit the lands and seas. The banyan tree (with its roots sprouting from branches like fingers clawing for a handhold) provides a favorite home for them in the jungle. Giant in stature and translucent in form, they hold supernatural abilities to help the lost, or bring harm when offended. These are my ancestors, who represent a long line of culture, tradition, and history.
As a child I was taught to respect them as I entered their domain with this chant:
Guelo yan Guela
Dispensa yo sa hu nesista bai usa y tano mu
Yanggen matto hao gi tano hu sina hu na setbi y tano hu
“Male Ancestor and Female Ancestor,
Excuse me because I need to use your land or take from it.
If you are ever on my land you are welcome to anything on it.”
Anyone from the islands knows this chant — or suffers the consequences, which requires witch doctors and spiritual healers to atone for the ancestors’ anger. Religious faith blurs lines between the worlds of the secular and animistic. Catholic and Shinto dogmas blend in my mind, but truth be told, the afterlife has no draw for me. I don’t care if I come back.
I don’t know past two generations before me. I can trace as far back as Great-Grandpa Jose from my maternal line. A Nisei Japanese and Chamorro man, I am caught between two cultures, each rich in history and trying to define — who am I?
A son,
A brother,
A father,
An uncle,
A friend,
A boyfriend,
A murderer,
A prisoner,
A valued member of my community,
Someone worth saving.
Ancestors, I thank you for giving me life. In the sweat lodge I pray that you can all come be with me. | JK
