Caano of Chaco Canyon

Caano of Chaco Canyon

Prelude
Bethnea had worked in the hot sun at the dig site all day. The team had found a beautiful pot buried in the dirt the other, and she was working to uncover it. It looked whole, and everyone was excited to see what it would look like once it had been recovered and cleaned. It was obvious that it was beautiful.
The sun beat down on her as she flicked the last piece of dirt away and reached out to touch the lovely relic. Suddenly she was transported to another time. She was in a small Anasazi village surrounded by strange people. A group of women were working on pots and speaking softly in an unknown language. A young boy sat with them, and he too was making a pot. Bethnea watched in fascination. She knew that pottery making was the domain of the female in the Anasazi culture.

Chapter one – He makes a pot

Little Caano sat and watched as the women of the tribe made pots. He loved watching them, and he wanted to make a pot too, but they wouldn’t let him. “Go and play with the boys,” they said. “Pot making is women’s work.” But he didn’t always feel like a boy. Some days he felt like a girl.
“Let him be,” the wise old Grandmother said. “He knows who he is.” And she gave him a handful of clay.
Caano sat happily playing with the clay, rolling it into long strips and coiling it around as he saw the women do. He made his first pot that day, and it was fired along with the other pots of the day. When it came out of the oven the grandmother gave it to him, and laughed at his delight. “You will be a great potter one day,” she told him.
“Don’t encourage him,” the other women said. Pottery making is women’s work. The Grandmother just smiled.
“I like making pots,” he said.
Often the other people in the village laughed at him and teased him. “Caano thinks he is a girl,” They laughed. But he paid them no mind. He knew who he was.

Chapter two – I will bind the clay with stardust

As the years went by and Caano grew into a young man he spent more and more time making pots. He had so many ideas for them. He tried different techniques for making them. He experimented with making slab pots, rather than just using coils. He experimented with different clays and slurries. His passion for making pots grew the more he experimented. New ideas came from many different places. But something was still missing.
One night in late summer Caano sat with the rest of the tribe watching the stars fall, as they always did this time of the year. Suddenly a very large one fell and seemed to land on the other side of the mountain. ‘Stardust,’ Caano thought. ‘I will bind the clay with stardust and it will last forever. It will be just like the stars in the heavens. Eternal. I must go and find the star that fell.’
The next day he told the Old Grandmother his plan. ‘Go in safety my child,’ she told him. ‘And take this with you. It will protect you.’ She took the obsidian amulet from around her neck and placed it over his head.
‘Thank you Grandmother.’ Then gathering his things together he walked away.

Chapter Three – He meets Aerlinnel

He wandered further away from home than usual, and had to spend the night alone in the desert. He really didn’t mind. He had spent nights alone in the desert before. He came to a small lake and climbed a willow tree. He knew he would be safe there. The next morning when he awoke he saw that the lake was covered in white lilies. And by the lake stood a young man, close to Caano’s age, looking up into the tree. Thinking it was a spectre Caano climbed down to investigate.
The vision took a step back, but smiled a greeting. “Hello,” it said.
“Greetings,” Caano replied. Then he just stood there, uncertain how to proceed. The vision never moved. At last Caano found his voice.
“Who are you? And are you real, or a ghost?”
“I am Aerlinnel,” the vision laughed. “And I am as real as you are.” His laughter and his voice sounded like a song.
“Aerlinnel. Star Song,” I smiled at him. “A beautiful name. Caano. I am called Caano.”
“The lake is beautiful today. And the flowers. Do you come here often?” Aerlinnel asked.
“No. No, I’ve never been here before. I live in the village over the hill. And you?”
“I live nearby. In a cave.”
“You live in a cave?”
More laughter. “Yes. Would you like to see it?”

Chapter Four – Aerlinnel’s Home

I very much wanted to see the cave. “Lead the way,” I said.
We walked northwest from the lake and up a narrow path on this side of the mountain. We came to a small opening and Aerlinnel lead the way in. I was taller and had to bend down to enter. I was expecting a small and shallow recess where one could possibly sleep or sit in coolness away from the heat of the day. What I didn’t expect was a huge and beautiful cavern.
“Welcome to my home Caano,” Aerlinnel said.

“Wow!” was all I could manage. Sunlight from a fissure in the high roof lit the cave. Aerlinnel took his flint and lit a fire near the entrance. Then he picked up several torches, lighting them and placing them in holders along the walls.
“Come,” he said, and taking my hand, lead me towards the back of the cave. We stopped in front of a wall and I saw many beautiful paintings of stylized lilies. They were done in black and white and red. I knew immediately this was what I had been looking for. I would incorporate lily designs on my pots.
“Did you paint these?” I asked him.
“Some. Many of them were here when I first came. I don’t know who left them. Perhaps the ancients.”
“They’re beautiful,” I whispered. “They are just what I need for my pots. It’s exactly what I’ve been looking for. I love the red. But how?” I questioned. I had never used red before in my designs. Nor had anyone in my tribe.
“I will show you,” Aerlinnel told me. “Come.” He led me back to the front of the cave.
It turned out to be a mineral called hematite. I hadn’t thought to use it. Aerlinnel ground it into a powder and used bird’s eggs as a binder. He also had many other ideas, and I was fascinated by them.
I spent a week with Aerlinnel, and I fell in love. Autumn was waning and winter would soon be upon us, and there was often snow in the mountains.
“Come back to my village with me,” I implored him. “It will be warmer there. And there are pots to be made for trade and for our daily use.”
“I will come,” he laughed. I had learned to love that laughter.

Chapter Five – Back in the Village

When we arrived at the Village I took Aerlinnel to meet the Grandmother. “My son,” she greeted him with open arms. “I knew you would be here soon.”
She turned to me. “So you did not find the star that fell, but you found your star,” she said, and smiled.
Seeing her acceptance, the other villagers easily accepted Aerlinnel’s presence. He soon became a part of the village’s life. Aerlinnel was always full of ideas, and I incorporated many of them into my pots. He was a constant inspiration.
We were wed in November, during the Moon Before Winter. The Grandmother gave us her blessing.
That winter and spring I made many pots, incorporating the stylized red lily into my designs. One turned out perfect and I held it up to the gods as an offering.
“One day my children’s children will find this pot, and they will remember me,” I said.
The Grandmother died that spring, and we buried the pot with her. It was a final gift to she who had raised me and had always supported me. I missed her greatly, and the village was just not the same without her. Aerlinn and I left that summer.

Epilogue

And so Caano and Aerlinnel hand in hand walked out into the desert and into history.

Postlude

“Bethnea! Bethnea!”
Bethnea heard him name being called from a long distance. She knew she needed to go back. She opened her eyes and looked into the faces of her colleagues. Someone offered her a bottle of water, and she drank thirstily.
“Are you okay?”
“I think you passed out, or went into a trance, or something. Everyone seemed a bit concerned.” But she was fine.
“I know,” she said excitedly. “I know the story of this pot.” And so Caano’s story was told and his legacy lives on in the beautiful pots of Chaco Canyon