The day Harukor got Tattooed

The day Harukor got Tattooed

“Whenever I saw older girls with their pretty tattoos, I hoped that I'd get one soon, but I'd also heard that it was extremely painful.

We were given no forewarning the day that the tattooist came. Acha and Akihi were away on an overnight fishing trip upriver to catch trout. There were all sorts of signs though. Usually, around noon, Hotene and Sapo and I were served a light snack, but today we were presented with a meat and vegetable soup and we were urged by our aunt and Hapo to eat plenty. It seemed so strange but aunty said, "Come on, just enjoy it," and laughed.

After we had eaten, Huchi told us, "Don't go out today." Suspiciously, I asked, "Why not?" Then the visitor arrived. "Anyone home?"

My aunt and Hapo went toward the entrance, answering, "Yes,

Harukor and we're here." "How wonderful of you to come in this rain!"

After they chatted, the woman got out a small, empty pot. She put it over the heat of the fireplace, placing something like bark inside it as she hummed an upopo (festival song) melody. In another empty pot she borrowed from Hapo, she heated up some white birch bark until there was a heavy black cloud of oily smoke, and the pot became sticky with a thick layer of dark liquid. I realized that I was looking at tattoo ink.

"Isn't that for tattoos?" I whispered in Sapo's ear. She nodded with an infuriating expression that said, "Of course, what took you so long?" She'd admired those tattoos so much, I was sure she'd be ecstatic, but in the shadow of her eyelashes, I could read her fear and nervousness.

"Okay, now, we're going to make you all pretty. Shall we start with the oldest?" The Tattoo Aunt had turned the pot upside down, so the soot was now on top. Still smiling, Hapo told Sapo to lie down in front of the Tattoo Woman. When Sapo obediently lay down with her face up, as she was told, Hapo held down her head lightly with one hand. As the Tattoo Aunt drew a sooty rim around Sapo's lips, she sang the words from the yukar that Sapo used to sing every once in a while:

The Tattoo Woman pulled out a small knife from her dress, then said, "It's going to hurt just a little, but it'll turn you into a truly fine maiden, okay?" She inserted the point of her blade into the sooty rim. Aunt and Huchi helped to make sure Sapo didn't move by holding down her arms and legs. Hapo held Sapo's head tightly. She peered into Sapo's eyes and said, "Stay still, she'll mess up if you move. She's the best tattooist there is. It's not going to hurt too badly, so don't worry." As the blade pierced through, Sapo's body jolted, but she didn't make a sound.

"Good girl," the tattooist spoke. "You're so strong—you'll be sure to win a fine husband." Whenever the blood started to flow, she wiped it off with sagebrush cotton she'd soaked in the juice in her pot. Moving her knifepoint skillfully as she added soot to her fingertip and rubbed it into the wound, the tattooist told the three of us a story.

One day, a lightning deity and a wolf deity came to a nearby kotan to find a bride. They had nice figures and handsome faces; furthermore, they were of good families in the kotan, and had been educated accordingly. So the gods were quite satisfied.

"Sadly, they both failed on one point. And that was that they were tekehontomta charohontomta (arms half-done, lips half-done); that is, the tattoos around their lips and on their arms were only half complete. The lightning and wolf gods were quite disappointed and went away, saying, 'There's just no way they'd be fit as brides.'

Sapo clenched her hands into fists, but remained silent. The tattooist continued her tale of the frog deity. "If you have to quit midway, just because it hurts a bit, you won't be able to withstand childbirth once you've become a bride. And if you go to Kamui Moshir without a tattoo, they'll tattoo you with a bamboo knife, and that, I tell you, will really be painful."

Hotene and I watched without a word. Sapo looked like she was in pain, but she wasn't making a sound, so maybe it wasn't all that bad.   "The wound's going to swell up and hurt tonight, so why don't you go to bed?" said Hapo. "You won't be able to eat dinner anyway." I finally understood why they'd fed us so much earlier.

When it was my turn, I endured the first shock of pain without a cry, but heard the tattooist's comment, "She's a brave one, like her Sapo," fading gradually away as I lost consciousness.

I felt something burning, as if embers had been placed around my lips. Wanting nothing but to shut everything out, I staggered over to my bedding, my face frozen, as if I'd forgotten how to laugh, cry, or be angry. Hapo lent a hand to support me.

The pain worsened during the night, and by morning, I could see the swelling of my own lips. We were feverish and the pain had kept us from getting much sleep, so we stayed in bed the whole day. Food was the farthest thing from our minds. When we got thirsty, Hapo dipped cotton grass in water and placed it against our lips for us to suck on.

And so three winters and summers passed after our first tattoos, which were followed by two more sets of tattoos around our lips and arms.