Toponymic evidence for a Maina-Candoshi connection
In this brief post I would like to put forth two bits of linguistic evidence that suggest that the Jesuit-era ethnonym 'Maina' (or 'Mayna') originally denoted a population that spoke a language very closely related to Candoshi, a language of northeast Peru that is today best considered an isolate. During the colonial, Jesuit and modern periods, the term Maina has been used haphazardly to refer to at least four distinct linguistic groups (the details of which I will not review here): Jivaroans, Candoshis, Cahuapanans (the Jebero) and the Omuranos. (My personal interest in this issue derives from recent work on Omurano.) For example, see the woefully inadequate Spanish-language Wikipedia page on Omurano, here. The confusion that has plagued the linguistic literature probably has its roots in Hervás y Panduro (1784:61), a Spanish Jesuit who never came to the New World, who lists the following languages as related to Maina: Chapo, Coronado, Humurana [read: Omurano] and Roamaina (likely a group closely related if not identical to the Omurano -- more on this in a later post). Further confusion has likely resulted from assumptions based on the geographic proximity of the above-mentioned linguistic groups and certain descriptions of Maina territory.
To be clear, Veigl (2006[1798]:107), arguably one of the clearest, most insightful and best organized of Jesuit chronicles, gives the following description of Maina territory (translation mine):
Importantly, Figueroa (1986[1661]:278) has the following to say regarding the same geological formation (translation mine):
Incidentally, the white-winged parakeet surfaces again in relation to a river I just spent quite a bit of time on, the Urituyacu. In Urarina that river is referred to as masu akaʉ, where masu means 'pihuicho' (see above) and akaʉ means 'river'. In fact, this is likely just an Urarina translation of the Quechua name -- uritu 'pihuicho' and yacu 'water' -- which dates at least to 1766 or 1767, when a Jesuit mission was founded there under the same name. Conspicuously, the Urituyacu basin lies just between the two downriver tributaries that constituted the western edge of Maina territory as described by Veigl, namely the Nucuray and Chambira. This leaves open the possibility that the Quechua toponym may actually be a translation of an even older Maina, or Candoshian, toponym.
References:
de Figueroa, Francisco. 1986[1661]. Ynforme de las misiones de el Marañón, Gran Pará ó río de las Amazonas. In Various, Informes de jesuitas en el Amazonas. Iquitos: Instituto de Investigaciones de la Amazonía Peruana (IIAP) y Centro de Estudios Teológicos de la Amazonia (CETA).
Hervás y Panduro, Lorenzo. 1784. Catalogo delle lingue conosciute e notizia della loro affinitá, e diversitá. Cesena: Insegna di Pallade.
Tuggy, John. 1966. Vocabulario candoshi de Loreto. Lima: Summer Institute of Linguistics (SIL).
Veigl, Francisco Xavier. 2006[1798]. Noticias detalladas sobre el estado de la Provincia de Maynas en América meridional hasta el año de 1768. Iquitos: Centro de Estudios Teológicos de la Amazonia (CETA).
To be clear, Veigl (2006[1798]:107), arguably one of the clearest, most insightful and best organized of Jesuit chronicles, gives the following description of Maina territory (translation mine):
Su primera ubicación se encontraba en las tierras situadas al norte del Marañón, desde la ribera oriental del río Morona, en ambas márgenes del Bajo Pastaza, hasta las regiones en que nacen los pequeños ríos, el Nucurai y el Chambira.
[Their first location was in the region to the north of the Marañón, from the eastern bank of the Morona River, including both banks of the lower Pastaza, continuing on to the region in which the small rivers, the Nucuray and the Chambira, are born.]These geographic details are important, because a significant piece of evidence regarding the linguistic history of the Mainas comes from the name of a major gorge along the upper Marañón, known as the Pongo de Manseriche. This narrow pass lies just below the mouth of the Santiago River, a major tributary of the Marañón that immediately precedes the Morona. That is, it is just upriver of what Veigl gives as the "start" of Maina territory.
Importantly, Figueroa (1986[1661]:278) has the following to say regarding the same geological formation (translation mine):
Decian tambien en su gentilidad que antiguamente, bajando un Dios por el Marañon y subiendo otro de abajo por él, para comunicarse abrieron el Pongo. En este Pongo, en una peña alta y tajada que ocasiona vno de los passos más peligrosos que tiene, y lo llaman Mansariche [sic], por los papagayuelos de esse nombre que en ella se crian, decian estaba en lo alto de ella el Yñerre (es el nombre con que los maynas llaman á Dios), en una cueba, donde tenia por muger á un culebron grande de los que nombran Madre del agua...
[In addition, they used to say during their time as heathens that, long ago, when a God descended along the Marañón and another ascended it from below, in order to communicate with one another, they opened the Pongo. In this Pongo, along a high and and steep rock outcrop, which brings about one of the most dangerous passes along this river, which they call Mansariche [sic] because of the small parrots of that name that live in it, they used to say that up high lived Yñerre (the name which the Maina give to God), in a cave, where he had as his wife a large serpent which they call Mother of the water...]The name Manseriche is very similar to the Candoshi word mantsiirchi (Tuggy 1966:201), which denotes a species of parakeet known in colloquial Spanish as pihuicho (likely the white-winged parakeet Brotogeris versicolurus). The fact that Figueroa directly claims that this toponym received its name from a species of small parrot makes this similarity all the more tantalizing. Furthermore, the Maina word Yñerre provided by Figueroa is similar to the Murato (a Candoshi dialect) word for 'mother' that I transcribed from a speaker in 2011 as [aˈɲeiɾe] (cf. Tuggy's aniari (ibid.:1)). I would like to suggest that what Figueroa claims to be the Maina word for 'God' is actually a word meaning 'mother' (cf. Tuggy's apaarich 'God' (ibid.:2), which is not similar). In order for this story to work out, we have to say that Figueroa slightly misunderstood this facet of Maina mythology, namely that the word Yñerre did not refer to a god who had a serpent wife, but to the serpent itself, which, importantly, he claims they referred to as a type of mother anyway. This does not seem far-fetched.
Incidentally, the white-winged parakeet surfaces again in relation to a river I just spent quite a bit of time on, the Urituyacu. In Urarina that river is referred to as masu akaʉ, where masu means 'pihuicho' (see above) and akaʉ means 'river'. In fact, this is likely just an Urarina translation of the Quechua name -- uritu 'pihuicho' and yacu 'water' -- which dates at least to 1766 or 1767, when a Jesuit mission was founded there under the same name. Conspicuously, the Urituyacu basin lies just between the two downriver tributaries that constituted the western edge of Maina territory as described by Veigl, namely the Nucuray and Chambira. This leaves open the possibility that the Quechua toponym may actually be a translation of an even older Maina, or Candoshian, toponym.
References:
de Figueroa, Francisco. 1986[1661]. Ynforme de las misiones de el Marañón, Gran Pará ó río de las Amazonas. In Various, Informes de jesuitas en el Amazonas. Iquitos: Instituto de Investigaciones de la Amazonía Peruana (IIAP) y Centro de Estudios Teológicos de la Amazonia (CETA).
Hervás y Panduro, Lorenzo. 1784. Catalogo delle lingue conosciute e notizia della loro affinitá, e diversitá. Cesena: Insegna di Pallade.
Tuggy, John. 1966. Vocabulario candoshi de Loreto. Lima: Summer Institute of Linguistics (SIL).
Veigl, Francisco Xavier. 2006[1798]. Noticias detalladas sobre el estado de la Provincia de Maynas en América meridional hasta el año de 1768. Iquitos: Centro de Estudios Teológicos de la Amazonia (CETA).
Very interesting work Zach! I've often wondered about the "Maina" ethnonym, especially because it is widely used to refer to a group of Shiwiar people who live on the Macusari River.
ReplyDeleteHowever, I have no clue why this only refers to that subgroup of Shiwiar people, or indeed where the ethnonym comes from. Of course, given that Jivaroans have had close contact with the Candoshi, it is very possible that it is of Candoshi origin.
I wonder whether this say anything about the Shiwiar of the Macusari River... Did/do they perhaps have more contact with the Candoshi? My Ecuadorean Shiwiar consultants certainly seem to think that the Peruvian Shiwiar have (trading) links to the Candoshi. Or are they a mixed population?
Keep us updated on anything else you find!
This is fascinating! I've always thought that the ethnonym Maina must be related to the Jivaroan amain 'opposite bank of the river'. As to which river it originally referred to, I don't know.
ReplyDeleteYeah, Zach and I were emailing about this. From the Achuar perspective it would make sense for it to be the Pastaza, but from the Aguaruna perspective, maybe the Marañon?
ReplyDeleteThere are a lot of overlaps with Jivaroan here! Tuggy's apaarich 'God' must be related to apaari 'father', which is basically the same as Jivaroan (e.g. Huambisa apari 'our father'. And Aguaruna 'God' has the same form (Aguaruna /h/ = other Jivaroan languages' /r/).
ReplyDeleteAnd the ILV dictionary of Aguaruna has mantseét 'especie de loro muy pequeño cuyas plumas del pecho son como un collar' - one of many flora/fauna terms shared between Jivaroan and Candoshi.
Does anyone happen to know what the -chi in the Candoshi forms is? It looks like the Jivaroan diminutive suffix.
In Shiwiar, 'our father' is apari too, but I can't find mantseet in my corpus or in any Achuar or Shuar dictionary. The closest root I can find is mantser, which means plantane.
ReplyDeleteAh, I found the Achuar name for 'pihuicho': kíris
ReplyDeleteRegarding Tuggy's , is a possessive suffix in Candoshi? I passed the time one afternoon in 2011 eliciting some lexical data from a Murato speaker in San Regis, and body part terms all ended in [iʃ] -- 'my~our father'?
ReplyDeleteI can't speak to the function of in Candoshi, but hopefully you can let us know soon, Simon! It is striking to me, though, that it or something like it appears in the word . I raise this because Martin and I were discussing previous proposals that the origin of the word 'Candoshi' involves what in Achuar is 'Pastaza'.
Given the possible absence of a 'pihuicho' cognate in Achuar, do you think that the root under discussion here is a loan from Candoshi into Aguaruna?
I am beginning to believe more and more that 'Maina' was what the Aguaruna told Spaniards they called the Candoshi. Given that a similar form for 'pihuicho' appears in Aguaruna, it may even be that 'Manseriche' is what the Aguaruna told Spaniards they called that set of rapids, with the relevant diminutive suffix you mention, Simon. This may make more geographic sense, as the impression I have from some contemporary records is that Spaniards would have first encountered Manseriche just before entering Maina territory.
Incidentally, what is the word for 'mother' in Jivaroan languages?
(By the way, Simon, I hope to meet you in the near future!)
There's so much going on here! Unfortunately some of your examples have been eaten by the comments machine, Zach, but I'll take a guess at what the lost bits were :)
ReplyDeleteI like that the -ch in Candoshi represents possession, because the -ri is the possession marker in Jivaroan: the root for 'father' is apa. So potentially apaarich represents a loan from Jivaroan apa-ri 'father-PSSD', with a native Candoshi possession marker tacked on the end.
Now, in your second paragraph, are you talking about the -shi of Candoshi, and do the Achuar call the Pastaza kanus? If so I have some comments, but if not I'll be interested to see what got lost in translation there!
Oh and Aguaruna for 'mother' is duku ('d' is a prenasalised stop). It should be nuku in the other languages.
Keep up the blog posts Zach! It would definitely be good to get together and discuss these things sometime.
Yes, in my second paragraph from 7/21 I was indeed referring to the '-shi' of Candoshi, and remarking on the fact that the "same" suffix appears in the word 'Candoshi' itself. And yes, according to Fast & Mowitz (via Martin), the Achuar refer to the Pastaza as 'kanus'.
DeleteI raised the issue of 'mother' because of the similarity between the word the Maina used to refer to the giant snake living in the Pongo and the Candoshi word for 'mother' (mentioned in the original post).
I am interested to read what comments you hinted at.
I've found an Aguaruna cognate for the Shiwiar kiris that Martin mentioned: kihus 'pihuicho'.
ReplyDeleteAlso back to kanus, this is what the Aguaruna call the Santiago, it seems to be a general term for a major river. Most Jivaroan hydronyms end in -s(a), and it is a reflex of entsa 'water, watercourse'. I always thought the first element was kanu 'canoe' (same in Candoshi, btw) so that kanus means 'canoe river' or 'navigable river'. What do you think?
This makes good sense to me. Do you think, then, that 'kanu' is a Jivaroan loan into Candoshi, given its presence in Achuar as well?
DeleteIt appears that we're starting to get to the bottom of both the ethnonyms 'Maina' *and* 'Candoshi'. I'm hoping you might shed some light on the latter in a further reply to the immediately preceding comment.
kanu is a pan-Amazonian word, so I don't think there's any way to say how it got into Jivaroan and Candoshi. Aguarunas often call Huambisas kanus, using the name of the river metonymically; so if the river the Candoshi lived on was also known as kanus by a nearby Jivaroan group, that may be the source of the ethnonym ... still doesn't explain the -shi of course.
ReplyDeleteI have revisited this post, as I'm still thinking about the issues involved. Firstly, I am skeptical of your association of Yñerre with Candoshi iniari 'mother', for two reasons. Phonologically, the Candoshi /r/ is a flap, and it would be odd for a native Spanish speaker to transcribe it with a double rr (unless of course the phoneme was a trill in early Candoshi and has since changed...). And semantically the 'mother snake' thing doesn't quite fit. Figueroa's words are "...un culebron grande de los que nombran Madre del agua.", which should be translated 'a large serpent of the type that they call Mother of the water' - this must refer to the Quechua term yacumama 'anaconda'. The anaconda is a familiar of the water spirit Tsugki in Jivaro mythology (and the Candoshi have the same name for the water spirit), so I think it makes more sense to take Figueroa's account at face value and look elsewhere for a source of Yñerre.
ReplyDeleteThis is a good point, Simon. I was always a bit uneasy about the God-mother link. So is just the name for some God-like spirit who had an anaconda wife.
DeleteIncidentally, the boa is central to Kokama folklore. In one account of a creation myth, a boa disguised as a beautiful woman beguiles a young man, whose stomach, after his first intimate encounter with her, begins to swell. The woman then swallows the young man partially, and his stomach ruptures, giving way to a giant lake. Husband and wife come to live in this lake, and the wife leaves to give birth to their son, the first Kokama.
Omaguas and Kokamas also metaphorize rainbows as boas, and the light rain that often accompanies them as the boas' urine. Such rain is considered harmful and is avoided.
To summarize:
ReplyDelete-Maina < Jivaroan amain 'other side of river'
-Candoshi < Jivaroan (?) kanu 'canoe' + -s(a) HYDRO + ?
-Manseriche < Candoshi mantsiirchi or Aguaruna mantseét 'pihuicho'
Let us know, Simon, if you find that 'i' of '-shi' has origins in Candoshi, and is not, i.e., the Jivaroan diminutive.