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You are sitting
around a fire after a hard day of work. The air cools and the sun
sets, the frogs and crickets begin singing as the sky darkens.
Suddenly the person you have been eagerly awaiting leaps to the
center of the circle. Your Shaman begins her story. You have heard
the story a hundred times, but the antics of the animals and the
wisdom in the story never fail to give you pleasure. As she weaves
her tale, the knowledge that every thing is alive, carrying its own
power and wisdom, soothes your soul.
Tonight it is a tale from the Amazon
Rainforest of South America. It is a story of change and finding your own
path home. Butterflies embody the need for change and greater autonomy, and
at the same time they represent bravery: great courage is required to carry
out the changes necessary to grow.
And as the blue morpho butterfly says
to Chimidyue "Now that you have been one of us, you will always have
something of the forest within you". What a gift!
The Wings of the Butterfly
A Tale of the Amazon Rainforest
Told by Aaron Shepard
On the banks of the Amazon River, in a
clearing in the forest, there once lived a girl named Chimidyue. She dwelt
with her family and relatives in a big pavilion_house called a maloca.
While the boys of the maloca fished
and hunted with the men, Chimidyue and the other girls helped the women with
household chores or in the farm plots nearby. Like the other girls,
Chimidyue never stepped far into the forest. She knew how full it was of
fierce animals and harmful spirits, and how easy it was to get lost in.
Still, she would listen wide_eyed when
the elders told stories about that other world. And sometimes she would go
just a little way in, gazing among the giant trees and wondering what she
might find farther on.
One day as Chimidyue was making a
basket, she looked up and saw a big morpho butterfly hovering right before
her. Sunlight danced on its shimmering blue wings.
"You are the most magical creature in
the world," Chimidyue said dreamily. "I wish I could be like you."
The butterfly dipped as if in answer,
then flew toward the edge of the clearing.
Chimidyue set down her basket and
started after it, imitating its lazy flight. Among the trees she followed,
swooping and circling and flapping her arms.
She played like this for a long time,
until the butterfly passed between some vines and disappeared. Suddenly
Chimidyue realized she had gone too far into the forest. There was no path,
and the leaves of the tall trees made a canopy that hid the sun. She could
not tell which way she had come.
"Mother! Father! Anyone!" she shouted.
But no one came.
"Oh no," she said softly. "How will I
find my way back?"
Chimidyue wandered anxiously about,
hoping to find a path. After a while she heard a tap-tap-tapping. "Someone
must be working in the forest," she said hopefully, and she followed the
sound. But when she got close, she saw it was just a woodpecker.
Chimidyue sadly shook her head. "If
only you were human," she said, "you could show me the way home."
"Why would I have to be human?" asked
the woodpecker indignantly. "I could show you just as I am!"
Startled but glad to hear it talk,
Chimidyue said eagerly, "Oh, would you?"
"Can't you see I'm busy?" said the
woodpecker. "You humans are so conceited, you think everyone else is here to
serve you. But in the forest, a woodpecker is just as important as a human."
And it flew off.
"I didn't mean anything bad," said
Chimidyue to herself. "I just want to go home." More uneasy than ever,
Chimidyue walked farther. All at once she came upon a maloca, and sitting
within it was a woman weaving a hammock.
"Oh, grandmother!" cried Chimidyue
joyfully, addressing the woman with the term proper for an elder. "I'm so
glad to find someone here. I was afraid I would die in the forest!"
But just as she stepped into the
maloca, the roof began to flap, and the maloca and the woman together rose
into the air. Then Chimidyue saw it was really a tinamou bird that had taken
a magical form. It flew to a branch above.
"Don't you 'grandmother' me!"
screeched the bird. "How many of my people have your relatives hunted and
killed? How many have you cooked and eaten? Don't you dare ask for my help."
And it too flew away.
"The animals here all seem to hate
me," said Chimidyue sorrowfully. "But I can't help being a human!"
Chimidyue wandered on, feeling more
and more hopeless, and hungry now as well. Suddenly, a sorva fruit dropped
to the ground. She picked it up and ate it greedily. Then another dropped
nearby.
Chimidyue looked up and saw why. A
band of spider monkeys was feeding in the forest canopy high above, and now
and then a fruit would slip from their hands.
"I'll just follow the monkeys,"
Chimidyue told herself. "Then at least I won't starve." And for the rest of
that day she walked along beneath them, eating any fruit they dropped. But
her fears grew fresh as daylight faded and night came to the forest.
In the deepening darkness, Chimidyue
saw the monkeys start to climb down, and she hid herself to watch. To her
amazement, as the monkeys reached the ground, each one changed to the form
of a human.
Chimidyue could not help but gasp, and
within a moment the monkey people had surrounded her.
"Why, it's Chimidyue!" said a monkey
man with a friendly voice. "What are you doing here?"
Chimidyue stammered, "I followed a
butterfly into the forest, and I can't find my way home."
"You poor girl!" said a monkey woman.
"Don't worry. We'll bring you there tomorrow."
"Oh, thank you!" cried Chimidyue. "But
where will I stay tonight?"
"Why don't you come with us to the
festival?" asked the monkey man. "We've been invited by the Lord of
Monkeys."
They soon arrived at a big maloca.
When the Monkey Lord saw Chimidyue, he demanded, "Human, why have you come
uninvited?"
"We found her and brought her along,"
the monkey woman told him.
The Monkey Lord grunted and said
nothing more. But he eyed the girl in a way that made her shiver. Many more
monkey people had arrived, all in human form. Some wore animal costumes of
bark cloth with wooden masks. Others had designs painted on their faces with
black genipa dye. Everyone drank from gourds full of manioc beer.
Then some of the monkey people rose to
begin the dance. With the Monkey Lord at their head, they marched in
torchlight around the inside of the maloca, beating drums and shaking rattle
sticks. Others sang softly or played bone flutes.
Chimidyue watched it all in wonder.
She told her friend the monkey woman, "This is just like the festivals of my
own people!"
Late that night, when all had retired
to their hammocks, Chimidyue was kept awake by the snoring of the Monkey
Lord. After a while, something about it caught her ear.
"That's strange," she told herself.
"It sounds almost like words."
The girl listened carefully and heard,
"I will devour Chimidyue. I will devour Chimidyue."
"Grandfather!" she cried in terror.
"What? Who's that?" said the Monkey
Lord, starting from his sleep.
"It's Chimidyue," said the girl. "You
said in your sleep you would devour me!"
"How could I say that?" he demanded.
"Monkeys don't eat people. No, that was just foolish talk of this mouth of
mine. Pay no attention!" He took a long swig of manioc beer and went back to
sleep.
Soon the girl heard again, "I will
devour Chimidyue. I will devour Chimidyue." But this time the snores were
more like growls. Chimidyue looked over at the Monkey Lord's hammock. To her
horror, she saw not a human form but a powerful animal with black spots.
The Lord of Monkeys was not a monkey
at all. He was a jaguar!
Chimidyue's heart beat wildly. As
quietly as she could, she slipped from her hammock and grabbed a torch. Then
she ran headlong through the night.
When Chimidyue stopped at last to
rest, daylight had begun to filter through the forest canopy. She sat down
among the root buttresses of a kapok tree and began to cry.
"I hate this forest!" she said
fiercely. "Nothing here makes any sense!"
"Are you sure?" asked a tiny voice.
Quickly wiping her eyes, Chimidyue
looked up. On a branch of the kapok was a morpho butterfly, the largest she
had ever seen. It waved at her with brilliant blue wings.
"Oh, grandmother," said Chimidyue,
"nothing here is what it seems. Everything changes into something else!"
"Dear Chimidyue," said the butterfly
gently, "that is the way of the forest. Among your own people, things change
slowly and are mostly what they seem. But your human world is a tiny one.
All around it lies a much larger world, and you can't expect it to behave
the same."
"But if I can't understand the
forest," cried Chimidyue, "how will I ever get home?"
"I will lead you there myself," said
the butterfly.
"Oh, grandmother, will you?" said
Chimidyue.
"Certainly," said the butterfly. "Just
follow me."
It wasn't long till they came to the
banks of the Amazon. Then Chimidyue saw with astonishment that the boat
landing of her people was on the other side.
"I crossed the river without knowing
it!" she cried. "But that's impossible!"
"Impossible?" said the butterfly.
"I mean," said Chimidyue carefully, "I
don't understand how it happened. But now, how will I get back across?"
"That's simple," said the morpho.
"I'll change you to a butterfly." And it began to chant over and over,
Wings of blue,
drinks the dew.
Wings of blue,
drinks the dew.
Wings of blue,
drinks the dew.
Chimidyue
felt herself grow smaller, while her arms grew wide and thin. Soon she was
fluttering and hovering beside the other.
"I'm a butterfly!" she cried.
They started across the wide water,
their wings glistening in the sun. "I feel so light and graceful," said
Chimidyue. "I wish this would never end."
Before long they reached the landing,
where a path to the maloca led into the forest. The instant Chimidyue
touched the ground, she was changed back to human form.
"I will leave you here," said the
butterfly. "Farewell, Chimidyue."
"Oh, grandmother," cried the girl,
"take me with you. I want to be a butterfly forever!"
"That would not be right," said the
butterfly. "You belong with your people who love you and care for you. But
never mind, Chimidyue. Now that you have been one of us, you will always
have something of the forest within you."
The girl waved as the butterfly flew
off. "Good_bye, grandmother!"
Then Chimidyue turned home, with a
heart that had wings of a butterfly.
This story was retrieved from:
http://www.aaronshep.com/stories/030.html
Check it out for more information on
the story and the Tukuna (or Tucuna, or Tikuna) tribe of South America.
۞
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