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A Day in the Life of a Seneca Indian. By Karen Andrade 2013-2014 school year (Indian Name “Hurit Vegulak”). My NAME . My name is Hurit. (I am 13) It means beauty. I am part of the Seneca tribe. But I call my tribe the Onandowaga. It means “the mountain people.” That’s our real name .
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A Day in the Life of a Seneca Indian By Karen Andrade 2013-2014 school year (Indian Name “Hurit Vegulak”)
My NAME My name is Hurit. (I am 13) It means beauty. I am part of the Seneca tribe. But I call my tribe the Onandowaga. It means “the mountain people.” That’s our real name . My family and I live in the Eastern Woodland region of the United States of America. This is MY story.
Journal Entry 1 It is October 23, 1732 Dearest Journal, It’s nearing the end of summer. There are lots of hills and trees here. I remember when my dad and some of the other men built the longhouse. All of the land was bare. Now it is bursting with life. The women went to find some elm bark in the woods, while the men built the frame. When the frame was built, the women covered it with the elm bark. I went there two days after it was built and met my best friend Istas. I was 5 then. http://www.bigorrin.org/seneca_kids.htm
Page 2, Journal Entry 1 I remember when my mom and I were making the clothes for my family. We made breechcloths and leggings for Sikyatavo, my brother, and my dad, Sikyahonaw. For my mother Kamama, and me we made wraparound skirts, over dresses, kilts and leggings, all made out of animal skins. We all had moccasins. My mom has a beautiful beaded tiara, and so does Istas’s mother. My dad has a special cap with one eagle feather sticking straight up from the top. All of the other men have one, too. When there is a war, men shave all their hair save for one line in the middle of their head, while women only cut theirs in mourning. Some men wear tattoos on their skin.
Page 3, Journal Entry 1 The women from the clan (one clan of 60 live in one longhouse) are planting a garden of beans, corn, pumpkins and about a million other things. Dad and the other men are hunting deer and elk. All of the children are here with the elders and we are making cornhusk dolls. Later today we will make stews, cornbread and soup on a stone hearth. It is still morning and we are preparing for lunch! Goodbye, Dearest Journal!
Journal Entry 2 October 24, 1732 Dearest Journal, I live in New York. The land was split up into different sections for the different tribes in my region. There are Mohawks, Seneca, Mohegan and Delaware in the Eastern Woodlands region. We all speak 1 of 2 languages: Algonquin or Iroquois. There are lots of plants here, mostly just trees and there’s lots of hills. There are lots of animals here too, rabbits and salmon, squirrels, elk and deer. Goodbye, Dearest Journal! http://www.native-languages.org/york.htm
Journal Entry 3 October 25, 1432 Dearest Journal,My mom told me some very important news today. Here is our conversation: “Sweetie, I have something to tell you.” I think I know what she is going to say. I had seen her stomach growing bigger so it shouldn’t have been much of a surprise. But it still was. I guess I didn’t really believe it somehow. “What is it, mom?” “Well…. I am going to have a baby!” “I… well is it a girl or boy? Can you tell what?” “Yes! It’s a boy, they kick so much. Thanks for being so supportive!” And then she left.
Journal Entry 3 page 2, 10/25/72 • But, and I am a little ashamed to admit, I wasn’t really being supportive. I didn’t want another brother. We were already okay, the four of us, and we didn’t need another. The tribe didn’t, anyway, there was already 55 of us here, 60 fit the long house. And we are going to have to make a cradleboard and make more food, and… the list can go on forever.
Journal Entry 3 • On to more pressing matters. It is usually so rainy here, but it is unusually sunny today. But I am not happy. In the winter it so rainy and cold, that’s how I feel. An impact that this weather has on my tribe’s daily life is that at lest 3 people die or get very sick during winter and in the summer we are very sweaty. • There is only 1 survival strategy I can think of right now. LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHER. Goodbye, Dearest Journal
Reflection #1 Greetings, Dearest Journal, Sorry for not writing all this time. I am 14 now, 3 years have past since my last entry. Sikyatavo is now 17, and my younger brother is 3. His name is Dyami, and he is kind and fearless. He is always trying to help others and I regret ever not wanting him to even be born. I think that we’ll probably get into a fight sooner or later, it is just human nature. But bye, my friend from the future, Karen Andrade, will take over with HER reflection.
Reflection #2 • Greetings, let me step out of character. ….. *step* • Hey, it’s me, Karen and this is my reflection I hope I get an “O” for Outstanding (Hogwarts grade, ), I actually hope to get an A, because, hey, who doesn’t? but I actually expect that I am going to get a high B or low A, because I didn’t make an interesting enough and it was kind of short but also kind of long at the same time. If I had to do this assignment again, I might try to make the story more interesting and get to the point faster and I also might try to make it seem like an actual story instead of just information. Also, I might try to make it more believable and plan better.
Bibliography • Redish, Laura, and Orrin Lewis. "Seneca Indian Fact Sheet." Native Languages of the Americas. Non profit organization, n.d. Web. 28 Oct 2013. <http://www.bigorrin.org/seneca_kids.htm>.