INTRODUCTION

Pablo Picasso claimed that “inspiration exists, but it has to find you working,” a variation of which –“God helps those who help themselves”– would be endorsed by Johannes Brahms, who, to quote him more accurately, would say that “inspiration is something that does not belong to us, but which we can make ours in our own right.” Likewise, Mozart, a clear representation of inspiration grounded in effort and discipline, sums up our key focus in this work: how much Yuman singers owe to a natural gift and how much is the fruit of efforts, and where they draw their inspiration and work from. Why are some able to specialize in singing and what are the implications of this social practice for Yuman culture?

This article aims to offer an anthropological view of singers in Yuman groups (the Kumeyaay, Paipai, Kiliwa, and Cocopah).³ Firstly, the study will explore the origin of the songs, which can be explained by mythology and, therefore, we will offer a brief overview of myths that make reference to this tradition. Then, we will endeavor to elucidate how the singing tradition is passed on today, and by drawing from sources, understand how the role played by singers has changed, particularly with respect to the hierarchy of power and their social function. Although the clans of the region –formerly hunter-gatherers– define themselves as stateless societies, the hierarchy in place entailed a slight verticalization of power ( ^{Viveiros de Castro, 2009, p. 124} ); as the chiefs of certain lineages became warriors famous for their courage and strength, or renowned hunters, so healers or singers also rose up the hierarchy.

Accordingly, in addition to reviewing the mythology and the general composition of songs, this work will explore the roles played by singers and the forms of initiation entailed by this knowledge specialization. This stock of knowledge enables us to tackle the crux of the matter at hand: Are singers ritual specialists? What is their initiation process like? How did they become singers? And what is their role in Yuman culture today?

Singers were the safeguards of ancestral knowledge of the tribes of northern Baja California, as they held particular prestige in Yuman cultural tradition –knowledge pertaining to a way of life in deserts, mountains, and seas, in which hunter-gathering and fishing established a distinct view of the world, which the history of the region has transformed, albeit not in the same way as other areas of Mexico. In this regard, Olmos states that “although it was customary to teach this activity in the religious orders that took part in the conquest of the region, the musical tradition of the missions did not directly merge with the age-old practices of indigenous groups, as occurred in other regions in the south of the country” ( ^{Olmos, 2008, p. 9} ). Rather, this historical process brought about a substantial change in the way of life, bringing an end to migratory movements across vast swathes of land and leading to settlements of sedentary communities –a historical process that has gradually changed certain practices and caused the loss of languages, while contributing to the creation of an ethnic consciousness within which it is believed that singers play a fundamental role.

As a result, this article seeks to show the role played by singers in Yuman communities by analyzing anthropological literature, historical sources, and ethnography. This ethnographical analysis served as the basis for studying the life stories of three singers: Juan Carranza, Alonso Pesado, and Delfina Albañez –the first of whom is Kumeyaay, the second Cocopah, and the third Paipai.

The Yuman region spans southern California, western Arizona, and northern Baja California. In linguistic terms, the Yuman languages comprise the Pai group, including Hualapai, Yavapai, and Havasupai from the state of Arizona, and Paipai in Baja California; and the River group from the other side of the border, in California and Arizona, including the Mojave, Quechuan, and Maricopa people. This large family includes, in Mexico, the Kumeyaay and Cocopah peoples, who both belong to the Delta-California language subgroup, while Kiliwa stands out as the only Yuman language with no linguistic affiliation to the other languages in its group ( ^{Mixco, 1994, p. 139} ). Music and dance are defining characteristics in the Yuman region. There are five variants of songs ( ^{Olmos, 2008} ): festive, game, cradle, funerary, and healing songs.

Now, considering that myths tell the story of the origin of all things, and particularly the origin of songs, this instantly lends ancestral legitimacy to singers’ day-to-day activities. This study will discuss the kind of knowledge transferred through their actions, which may have been acquired as a natural gift or inherited, and the ways in which this knowledge transfer occurs –namely, the initiation and learning process required to become a singer. Consequently, this work will also explore the contexts of enunciation and the function of the different kinds of songs. This will make it possible to define the social function of Yuman singers in the past in order to perform a comparative analysis with modern-day singers.

THE REGION FROM A MYTHOLOGICAL PERSPECTIVE

Myths provide information in several ways, two of which are worth highlighting at this time. On the one hand, an initial look at the mythology of the region, despite its differences, reveals a shared mythological corpus between these groups, according to ^{Laylander (2001)} and ^{Waterman (1910)} , among others. On the other hand, certain exploits by the creator gods tell of a common origin for the neighboring tribes. Some myths say that after the creation of man, culture, and the different languages, the peoples simply spread out, while others recount how some decided to head south, and others east or west, populating the area from the mountains of San Pedro Mártir to Colorado River in the north, in what is today known as the Mojave territory.

The Kumeyaay, along with the Luiseño, Juaneño, and Gabrieleño people, were called the Indians of the mission ( ^{Harrington, 1908} ). However, it is acknowledged that the Kumeyaay are more culturally affiliated with the Yumans. According to the myth recorded by Constance ^{Dubois (1904, p. 218)} the god Mastamho, upon creating the Colorado River, also created light, made the earth flat, saved people from flooding, separated the tribes, taught them to farm, and established clans, such that he came to be acknowledged as the source of any supernatural power. Afterwards, like in many other collections of myths produced since the early 19^th century, the myth describes a long migration that supports the legitimacy of certain tribes’ claim to a share of land. In addition to naming neighboring tribes, with whom cultural objects and women are exchanged and war is waged, myths generally give names to the land and, in doing so, mark an inhabited space –in other words, a cultural landscape– that begins to take shape ( ^{Gabayet & González, 2012} , in press). In the case of the Mojave people, the tales tell of their return to their native land, which has been occupied by other groups and must be reclaimed through war. Although the Mojave inhabit a region at the fringes of the southwestern United States, the region’s similarity to the cultural region of California is striking, as is the similarity that exists across the region as a birthplace for tribes and songs –as will be seen later through the connection that exists today and in ethnohistorical documents.

THE ORIGIN OF SONGS IN MYTHS AND THE MYTH OF THE BEGINNING IN SONGS

Songs recount the creation of the world, while also claiming that at the same time the song originated, like a mise en abyme. How does this work? Two narratives come together in the Yuman mythological corpus: a creator god, often the brother of another god who falls by the wayside, and a serpent that contains knowledge of everything and explodes, showering the earth with rituals, crafts, songs, healings, names, clans, and livelihoods, according to authors such as Meigs (1939), ^{Álvarez de Williams (2004)} , ^{Kelly (1977)} , ^{Waterman (1910)} , ^{Forde (1931)} , ^{Davis (1919)} , ^{Dubois (1904} , ¹⁹⁰¹⁾ , ^{Kroeber (1925)} , and ^{Laylander (2001)} .

^{Laylander (2001, p. 161)} reports that according to the myth, knowledge, learning, and songs fly out from the belly of the Kumeyaay and Paipai mythological serpent. The serpent is summoned from the sea in a ceremony with a series of entwined branches and grew until it exploded. The Cocopah, Quechan, and Mojave versions differ in the way this snake is present.

Another example is that the men of the earth created the world in song ( ^{Meigs, 1939} ; ^{Mixco, 1983} ), and uttering the words while singing triggered creation. In 1932, Densmore made a series of recordings of the Cocopah, Quechan and Yaqui people, with ^{Olmos (2008, p. 15)} adding that one of the songs does indeed recount that:

Upon the death of the god Sipa (a superhuman or deity of the land), men and animals held hands to shield his body from cremation; in this extract, the coyote is able to suddenly jump over the barrier protecting Sipa’s body and manages to steal his heart to take it to the birthplace of the sun, as told by Juan Albañez in the Paipai tradition, but which is also part of the Kumeyaay repertoire. This song, although first recorded in 1928, is still sung today by the Diegueño Kumeyaay peoples ( ^{Olmos, 2008, p.14} ).

In 1910, T. T. Waterman recorded that, for the Kumeyaay, the first men lived on the Wikami Mountain, in Mojave territory. The man had been made of clay, and the first woman from one of the man’s ribs. At the time, it was said that you could hear the singing and dancing of all the dead returning to the place where everything was created. There was a snake outside in the ocean toward the west called Maihaiowit. He was the same as Teaipakomat, but had taken another form. The huge snake had swallowed all knowledge. The arts were inside her: singing, dancing, basket-making, and everything else. The people in Wicuwul wanted to hold an image ceremony. They had made a ceremonial house, but didn’t know what else to do. They couldn’t sing or dance or make speeches. One man, who was smarter than all the others, was sent to ask the huge snake for the songs and dances. He transformed himself into a bubble for protection, but the snake still swallowed him. Inside the snake, he went north, south, and east looking for an exit. He was a powerful medicineman, and with a flint he opened up the monster. He entered the snake’s circular house through a hole on the top. The snake asked who he was, so he answered, “I it-is, Uncle”. So he told the snake what he wanted and the snake accepted, “You go ahead,” he said, “and I’ll catch up with you.” As the snake slithered by over the summit of the mountains, he left a white streak that can still be seen today. First he stuck his head in the ceremonial house, and then his body. He barely fit. The people were alarmed by the snake’s size and set fire to him. All the knowledge came flying out, and each tribe received something: for some, the wildcat dance; for others, the wakeruk; others are good at the peon game; others became good healers or orators, but not everyone. Maihaiowit’s head became Cerro Prieto outside Mexicali, and his body was left on the banks of the Colorado River. For the Mojave people, the mountain is called Avikwamey, and the monster Humasareha ( ^{Forde, 1931, p. 204} ). This myth not only gives rise to songs, but also funeral rites.

FORMS OF TRANSMISSION OF KNOWLEDGE OF YUMAN SONGS. RITUAL INITIATION THROUGH DREAMS

In Yuman cultures –the Havasupai, Mojave, Kumeyaay, Kiliwa, and Paipai– knowledge about songs is acquired in dreams. Waterman (1910) remarks that the tribes of the Colorado River do not believe in a guardian spirit, but shamans derive their power from dreaming of the creator, an ancient divinity or some divine creature from the time of creation. Dreams, therefore, always feature a line-up of mythological characters, whereas rites consist of long series of songs, the narrative for which comes to singers through dreams.

This is the case for Delfina. Things come to her in dreams, and her grandfather told her that one day she’d dream of the pebble amulet (piedra de canto). In that regard, she says, “you see that with us, the Paipai –I don’t know if the same is true for the Kumeyaay– we pick up things through dreams. So yes, I have dreamed a lot of things, as I have more things that are different from your beliefs, because sometimes I dream things and then they happen…” (Delfina Albañez, personal communication, October 7, 2015).

For others, like Iñaki Anselmo, songs do not just reveal themselves in dreams, as it can happen when you least expect it:

When I can’t memorize a song, I sleep. I sleep and during the night the song comes to me, the tone comes to me, everything comes. Or at some point during the day the song will come; I mean, it’s not me dreaming, but by magic, or something, when I least expect it, when I’m working – bam! – I’ll remember the song and my memory retrieves that part and says, “it’s come now”. And I’ve heard it in several people who learn songs – try as you might, you can memorize it, but you can’t internalize it to sing it (Iñaki Anselmo, personal communication, October 8, 2015).

Alonso Pesado claims that the importance lies in understanding the meaning of the dream, because to his mind, dreaming doesn’t make you a singer: “It’s never happened to me, but that’s what they say, isn’t it? I don’t want to dream and I want to sing, right? But that itself will reveal, tell you things; if you don’t know what that dream’s trying to tell you, you’ll be none the wiser. So over the years you’ll realize, not because you dreamt it, but because you are it…” (Alonso Pesado, personal communication, October 10, 2015).

Meigs remarks that, for the Kiliwa people, there were songs of power learned during dreams by witch doctors (1939, p. 45). Among the Havasupai, healers also draw their power from dreams, but in this case there are guardian spirits living in their chests, which come out to travel and discover things, and on returning, make noises and sing what they saw. This is similar to the behavior of the ritual specialists during the Kiliwa ñiwey ceremony, when the dead speak through their mouths.

Among the Cahuilla people, recurring dreams –especially in childhood– produce shamans rather than trances or visions, like the tribes of the Colorado River. Kroeber conducted fieldwork among the Mojave, and explained that initiation processes are indeed individual relationships that healers establish with the supernatural. Unlike in the southwest, for the Pueblo Indians, the destiny of ritual specialists was defined at the tribal or fraternal ceremonies ( ^{Kroeber, 1925, p. 279} ). The pursuit of dreams or revelations does not use fasting, isolation, supplication, or any other kind of practice. Knowledge, transmitted through dreams, is acquired before birth or while dreaming, and individuals receive power directly from Mastamho, the guardian deity, who teaches them songs and ceremonial practices.

Other beings or objects are also the source of supernatural powers when they appear in dreams. Songs themselves –as discussed further on– describe how the supernatural power being used was acquired –in other words, Kroeber says, the instructions given by Mastamho in dreams. All ceremonies, and not just the activities of healers, are performed because they were dreamt and, therefore, because they were received supernaturally by one of the participants of the ritual. All myths and historical legends are known by the ritualists, not because they heard them and learned them, but because they witnessed them themselves in dreams. This is why, often, the narrator of a myth will go from an impersonal to a firstperson narration.

^{Densmore (1932)} , who made recordings of series of songs, writes about the initiation process for a singer, Wilson, during the singer’s youth. Wilson went to the heavens while asleep and saw an area leveled out in a circle. There was a group of people there in oldfashioned dress. Each wore a feather from a white eagle on their heads, and sang and danced in a circle, twisting and turning without ever touching one another. In the middle there was a naked boy, with a bow and arrow, who led the song by singing about a journey two boys made down on earth; the boy could see everything on earth and described each mountain and animal the wanderers saw. When they arrived at an important place, the boy made the dancers dance. At one point he sang the death of Kukumat and the singers sang for that. Wilson’s songs are the repetition of everything he heard in his dreams, including the descriptions of the journey that the boy sang. This boy, who is a bolt of lightning, is always up there in his circle. When he lies down, he zigzags in the sky because he has no feathers to stick on the earth. Wilson says that his songs will bring rain, and his singing makes the spirits in the clouds dance in a circle like they did in his dream.

Descriptions of initiation processes also mention consuming datura, a type of toloache from which visions are obtained, providing knowledge. Shamans acquired their skills from many sources of power. Even when considered innate, these skills had to be revealed to the individual through spontaneous communication with the supernatural in dreams, and then developed in rituals involving datura ( ^{Meyer, 1978} ; ^{Owen, 1962} ). Other sources of power included songs, crystals, and special relationships with animals. All of this was acquired through experiences in dreams ( ^{Winkelman & Finelli, 2006, p. 118} ).

Winkelman and Finelli’s contribution is interesting in that those who dreamed of animals were destined to take up the highest levels of shamanism and accompany the shamanic leaders considered the “captains of animals” (2006, p. 118). These animals functioned as guardian spirits and healers could invoke their protection and assistance in hunting and finding directions. The authors note that the songs learned in dreams were unique to each shaman, and so could not be learned by others – only from the spirits and through dreams.

We have observed how singing plays a key role in different aspects of Yuman cultures. Myths serve to establish the power bestowed upon the singer and, through possession of this knowledge, provide fulfillment for the holder. Dreams, myths, and songs blur the boundaries between them to confer a new identity. We will now explore how this works today.

SINGERS AND TRADITION TODAY

Delfina Albañez, a Paipai Indian from Santa Catarina, is a singer. She learned from her grandfather by, in her own words, listening from her mother’s womb. In turn, her grandfather Juan Albañez learned from Eugenio Albañez, one of the community’s great traditional singers and a traditional chief for 40 years ( ^{Owen, Walstrom & Michelsen, 1969} ), laying the initial foundation for the context in which Delfina would be handed down the role of singer. Her grandfather was keen for his descendants to learn this skill, so Delfina began singing during community celebrations. She told us that at the beginning, she would do it for the applause, but then over time, she made connections with the knowledge her grandfather had passed on to her through the traditional tales he told when they slept outside on summer nights. Her grandfather would take the opportunity to teach her: “The daughters of the owl are over there, and there goes the bighorn sheep, and there go the hunters” (Delfina Albañez, personal communication, October 7, 2015). Later, the grandfather passed on the songs spiritually and told her that one day she’d find the pebble amulet (piedra de canto). So it was that Delfina began to dream and discover his voice in her dreams.

Another highly distinguished singer is Alonso Pesado, a Cocopah native from Pozas de Arvizu. It would seem that he started singing spontaneously, as he believes it is something he was born with and, like a magnet, singing gradually drew him toward other singers from whom he was able to learn – particularly Nicolás Wilson, a traditional authority in his village. Learning, says Pesado, has no rules, and neither does legacy –it is directed by the heart, but above all, in order to learn, you need to establish a close link to a singer you can learn from by imitation, which must occur in traditional contexts, which are based –among other things– on the length of one night, which determines the full song sequence.

Juan Carranza Cuero, a Kumeyaay singer, whom we interviewed before his death, was the moral authority on Yuman singing until his dying day. He also learned by imitation, through listening to his relatives sing. Having lost his mother, he lived alongside many tribes, accompanying his father, and learned from them from the age of eight. Part of his story is told below:

There’ll be music to dance to, the Indians are coming to sing, the Indians from Yuma, he said. They were from Yuma; they’re going to sing here. The Indians arrived, there were about three or four, huge they were… the people, including me, danced with them… I listened to their singing, I loved hearing them. Well, they sang for three or four days… with everybody drinking, dancing, eating. We came from back over there, La Huerta, we crossed the hills and arrived at a place called Agua Caliente – he took a bath there – and then we arrived at Cañada de Encino… So they arrived here and there were seven or eight of us singers, the youngsters, and me among them. At that time, the elders would rest for a while so the younger ones, like us, the kids, the young’uns, would start singing so the women could keep on dancing. They were going off to drink their wine over there, weren’t they? So while they drank here and there, here we’d keep on singing, repeating what they sang. When they sang, we’d join them. You’d join them, at their side, stood upright, and that’s what we’d do… There were people who’d even dance to matchboxes, I’d sing and the people would dance; that’s how they had fun in those days, there was nothing of the vice of alcohol or marijuana, or anything like that. At the time it was… that was how the people had fun, well… the people would sing and dance (Juan Carranza, personal communication, October 9, 2015).

The life stories of these three figures reveal similarities in the ways they became singers. Using phrases like “you’re born with it,” “it’s something you’re born with,” “it comes from within,” and “you have it within you,” they make reference to the natural gift you need to become a singer, as only special people have this power to sing, interpreted as a gift from age-old spirits or their ancestors. Being born with this gift or receiving it as a legacy are two ways to become a singer, but learning by imitation appears to be the basic condition in both cases, as the power received needs to be practiced through the very act of singing. Indeed, what defines a good singer is the singer’s ability to bring people together and make them dance –a charismatic power that must be exercised.

IN CONCLUSION

An analytical comparison of documentary information and the ethnographic evidence found has shown that Yuman singers have, broadly speaking, preserved the characteristics of the singing tradition among the cultures of the Californias. Although the songs are mythological in origin, it is worth looking at the matter from another perspective, as the mythology is contained within the songs, such that the songs proclaim that the world was created in that manner –by singing– within the context of the death of the gods. Within the narrative structure of the mythological corpus on creation, until now funerary contexts, as the focal point of social organization, have stood out as the most important setting for what is considered representative of the ethnic groups of Baja California and as a major occasion for transferring this aspect of culture.

We believe, therefore, that singers are holding up the banner of Yuman ethnicity due to the fact that they possess a wealth of traditional songs, whether acquired by way of inheritance or as an innate gift, offering them unique acknowledgment and prestige as the corpus of songs is obtained through initiation processes in dreams and is associated with the figures of mythical heroes that created the world in song. Healing songs may well have disappeared, but the ritual specialization in singing lives on, as beings from other worlds – like their singing ancestors– influence singers to such an extent that they sing through descendants’ hands when the rattle sounds, and to this day remain a major figure in funerary contexts.

Thus, the context for the transfer of knowledge continues to be dictated by myths. Myths also teach about the tribes’ distribution and entitlement to land, the distribution of languages, and, above all, the role played by singers as holders of knowledge of the world, and the slight rise in hierarchy dictated by prestige.

In this work, we have defended the idea that a proposition is true only if it is consistent with the facts, but not only that; we have also endeavored to ensure its coherence is in keeping with the wishes and aspirations of those who experience this culture. If the gods created the world by singing, this musical outburst through sound, men, and things manifests itself in this rolling melodic outline.