Living Our Language_ Ojibwe Tales & Oral Histories - Anton Treuer [83]
[3] A’aw waawaabiganoojiinh ogii-waabandaan i’iw gaanda’igwaason atemagak imaa michisag ezhi-ipitood. Ogii-nandomaandaan i’iw. Mii dash geget igo gii-minikwed, ziikaapidang akina. “Inashke,” gii-ikido a’aw inini gii-wiindamawaad wiijiiyan ji-miinaad ishkodewaaboo, “Geget igo noonde-minikwe.” “Aabiding miinawa miizh a’aw waawaabiganoojiinsh ishkodewaaboo. Gidinawemaaganinaan noonde-minikwe.” “Ahaaw,” ikido. Miinawaa ogii-siiginaan ishkodewaaboo biindig i’iw gaanda’igwaasoning. Geget idash miinawaa ogii-minikwen a’aw waawaabiganoojiinh. Nising ogii-miinigoon ishkodewaaboo.
[4] Agaashiinyiwag waawaabiganoojiinyag. Mii i’iw gaa-onji-gichi-giiwashkwebiid a’aw waawaabiganoojiinh. Gii-kiiwashkwebitoo a’aw waawaabiganoojiinh ezhi-gagwe-baamibatood. Eshkam igo gii-kiiwashkwebii. Eshkam igo gaye gii-soongide’e. Mii apii gii-ikwanagwenid a’aw waawaabiganoojiinh. Mii dash ezhi-ikidod, “Aandi ayaad a’aw gaazhagens?”
That Old Mouse
[1] One time there was a pair of Indians from the Red Lake Indian reservation. The town where they lived was called Obaashiing. And they were always drinking there in one of those tarpaper shacks. Those two were always drunk.
[2] One time as they had a good buzz going, having a real brou-ha-ha, one guy saw a mouse running there on the floor. Those Indians had really been drinking too much. The one talked to his friend, telling him, “Oh I feel so bad to see that mouse. He looks hungry and thirsty. Friend, give that mouse some of this here whiskey.” “All right,” he says. Then he took a thimble and filled it up, using that whiskey. Then he put that whiskey there on the floor.
[3] That mouse saw that whiskey put there on the floor as he was scurrying by. He sniffed at it. Then he really drank, slurping down everything. “Look,” said that guy who had told his friend to give him the whiskey, “He really needs a drink.” “Give that old mouse the whiskey once again. Our relative needs a drink.” “All right,” he says. And he poured another shot of whiskey into that thimble. And that old mouse really drank it again. He was given whiskey three times.
[4] Mice are small. That’s why that mouse got so drunk. That mouse was staggering all over when he tried to run. He was getting ever more inebriated. And he was getting increasingly brave. At that time, that mouse rolled up his shirtsleeves. Then he said, “Where’s that cat?”
SUSAN JACKSON
SUSAN JACKSON (b. 1925) is a perfect example of the positive effects of traditional Ojibwe living. “Niwajebaadiz,” she often says, in reference to this indisputable fact. Wajebaadizi means to be spry, peppy, and full of life. Most people don’t believe her when she tells them that she is well over seventy years old. Her body is strong, her wits are sharp, and she rarely complains of any physical condition.
Susan’s parents and grandparents taught her the value of hard work and a positive demeanor through their excellent examples of good character. As a small child, Susan chopped wood, hauled water, and shoveled snow. Even today she continues in these activities because, in her opinion, daily labors are good for the mind and body alike.
Susan grew up in and around the Leech Lake Reservation community of Chi-achaabaaning (Inger, Minnesota). Although there wasn’t much money in her early days, her father worked hard at several jobs and the whole family hunted ducks, snared rabbits, and harvested wild rice. The entire community was heavily involved in traditional Ojibwe religious ceremonies, and the culture united her family and community in many fundamental ways.
Chi-achaabaaning has been home to Susan for most of her life, from childhood to the present day. Currently she spends much of her time watching grandchildren and traveling to support her ever-growing extended family. Frequently,