Muriel says “K’iye na:niwhtsis-te”
By Muriel Ammon
I’m about two months late with this goodbye letter. I just couldn’t bear it. There are so many more stories I want to share with you. As I sat down to write today, much to my surprise, it all came out – but it came out in my own language, Hupa. My friend Chuck reminded me we don’t say goodbye. We say k’iye na:niwhtsis-te, see you later. So this is not a goodbye. Rather, it is a celebration of the year we’ve had together and a bundle of good wishes for the next Graton Heyday Berkeley Roundhouse Writing Intern. Oh! I cannot wait to read the next fabulous intern’s work. My message to you is in my language. I won’t be directly translating it. It wouldn’t carry the same sentiments. My English message comes from another place. The words we share when we are together. And that is what I have for you.
He:yung whima:lyo’,
K’iye na:niwhtsis-te, dungwho’owh midiłwa.
Ła’ me:nundiyay ‘a:k’iwhlaw ma News from Native California. K’iniwh-’a’de’iwhchwe ne’n. Hayah-dung niwho:ng. Ła:n whiłdiniwił’a’. ‘Ułtsah-ch’ing te:se:yay. Hayał na:te:sdiyay. Whima:lyo’ ya’xoch’ing’ xine:ye:wh. Diywho’ gya’ whił ya’xowilik hayał dundi xoma:lyo’-tah, hayał diywho’ ‘a:k’idya:w-tah, hayał diydi me:ya’de:din-tah. K’iniwh-’a:disehłchwe’n. Hayał ‘a:k’iwhlaw.
Hay k’iwinya’n-ya:n digyung neheniwht’il. Nehe nehe:y xole:n. Nohma:lyo’ xomixine:we’ ya:xiniwdiyehwh-te. K’iwinya’n-ya:n-q’ ‘awiniw nohołdiniwił’a’-te. L Frank wh’ich’ing ch’ide:ne, hay me’ ‘a:k’iwilaw-me’-o:dwhe:t ‘olye’ News, noh xowidlik nehe nehe:y silay.
Ts’ehdiyah whima:lyo’. Ts’ehdiyah niwho:ng wha ‘a:whwilaw. Ningxa’ ne:sohdiwa:n. Ts’ehdiyah Terria Smith, whita’, whunchwing, whidehch, whikil, whichwo, Julian + Lyn, Kayla + Chuck, L Frank, Hune Bommelyn, Tori McConnell, Carly Tex, Carmen Moreno, Eve Sheehan, Gayle Wattawa, JiaJing Liu, Leanne Hinton nay. Hay ‘e:n nohma:lyo’ Malcolm ne’n. Nohoł yunohch’ilyo’ nohwa. ‘E:wa:k hay k’isdiya:n ch’iwinje:w, hay mił nohje:y ting dilmay. Ya:xowe:sdilyo’ mił nohje:y diwincha:t.
Our stories are all around us. Through them, we travel. They are the river of time and space. News from Native California began with a newsletter of community events. Our friend Malcolm marked the confluence of daily life and significant events in Native California. He knew us, and he knew that the changemakers, the brilliant artistic minds, the leaders, the dreamers, all the beautiful people, well, they were just the everyday people going about our communities. He saw that we all hold that inside of us. Always happy to stop and talk to the next person. I was lucky to meet him in my time at News. He shared my dad’s passion for multiplying by 11 in Hupa language, and asked about the wellbeing of my Uncle Bob. He wanted to know me. He already did.
Terria Smith is the boss now, though I’m sure she wouldn’t refer to herself as such. A brilliant, sentimental auntie who conveys our world’s beauty with pen and paper. Terria supported me to explore creative writing in my language. I never even thought to bring my language into my place of work. Before this, language was my place of work. I have had the most fun exploring characters in our traditional stories – what they look like, how they speak, who they are related to, their virtues and vices. I wrote in English and translated to Hupa; I wrote in k’iwinya’n-ya:n mixine:whe and translated to yima:ndil-mixine:whe. I went back and forth and back and forth on the same piece of work, until their voices came alive to me. I am entering a PhD program in Linguistics at the University of California Santa Barbara. I will of course be bringing Mehs’-ch’il’e:n and the Giant Acorn Worm with me. I have many stories left to tell, and I plan to pursue them through new avenues as I begin a new chapter of life.
Kiye na:niwhtsis-te
Xosa:k’
