The following is an abbreviated version of the ethnographic research conducted by A. T. Riddle (aka Malinowski in Training) on the indigenous peoples of the University of Waterloo Anthro Society on Friday, January 18, 2002. Some names have been altered to protect the innocent. No profs, TAs, rival ethnographers or guest speakers were harmed in the making of this ethnography.
Introduction
My study began upon arriving at the local meeting hut, or, as it would be pronounced in Waterlooian: gra’dhows. Almost immediately the festive atmosphere caught my attention. Dozens of people were sitting around a number of tables arranged in haphazard fashion throughout the building. Alcoholic beverages were flowing freely, making me feel quite at home, though service was slower than a loris. Regardless, people everywhere looked jovial, celebrating the end of thawer quhwe’ek, a five day period of mourning and general sadness and suffering. I have suspicions that this observance has some thing to do with the gods of the Waterlooians. The most notorious ones being Anzelr: goddess of something called ‘Multiple-Multiple Guess’, Prke: god of Undrank Coffee and Many Overheads and Toma'saablr: God of Slides and all things Aboriginal. They are both revered and feared throughout the campus.
The people I was here to study were lounging upstairs in the most prestigious room, usually reserved for only the elite. First to arrive were Shaw’nah, Traesee and Daav. Shaw’nah’s mate, Shane, was also present, his foreign origins evident from his rather peculiar name. Daav instantly stuck me as an important figure, perhaps a ‘chief’ of sorts. ‘Only a chief’, I thought, ‘would be permitted to wear such a flamboyant hair-do as his.’ Indeed I was correct, he was one of the small group of elder xzecks that organized large celebrations such as these. The rest of the council would appear shortly, including Ta’boothaw, Teefanee and the head honcho herself, Kaarhen. Once the council had assembled in the small chamber of comfy couches, large screen TVs and old board games, the festivities began. Alcoholic drinks were brought up in elaborately decorated vessels of finely crafted polymer plastic imported from some distant land. Maybe Guelph. Less impressive vessels used to drink the vile yellow liquid were supplied and everyone partook in apint. By this time, other people had arrived and were obtaining their own drinks. The newcomers included S’teev, Lhiz, Saar’ah, D’aan, Dea'vhon, Meahg and Arrn. I was disappointed to discover that no one had brought mu’nchees, a delicacy which I was told compliments the drink immensely.
Preparations began to be made for the pilgrimage that would occur later that evening. Blank white shirts of only the finest artificial fibers were produced and were decorated with Crayola markers, an obvious trade good. Already slightly inebriated, the Waterlooians began to scrawl all manner of derogatory and suggestive phrases on each other’s shirt. Most I was not permitted to print; however a few have been translated below:
“Marry Me, I’m Margaret Mead. (Hell, everyone else has)”
“Kiss me, I’m in estrus!”
“Kick me, I’m an antiquarian” - Somehow this one got on this ethnographer….
“[Archaeologists] do it in the dirt.”
“Kiss my Monkey?”
“King Bonobo”
The natives also kept track of their beverage consumption in the same fashion. Individuals with a low number of drinks recorded on their clothing were encouraged to drink more by anyone who noticed. Misrepresenting or lying about one’s alcohol consumption was frowned upon, though the only corrective measures taken would be quiet gossip and the rolling of eyes. This sort of behavior, such as saying, “I drank seven pitchers that night!” lowered a native’s credibility and prestige.
Once the shirts were prepared and the beverages consumed, Kaarhen announced the beginning of the pilgrimage. Everyone was to make their way along a designated course comprised of several sacred temples, some being more sacred than others. Between each temple, the Waterlooians would be split into moieties whose task it was to trade a yam (imported from the Trobriand Islands especially for this purpose!) for something either bigger or better. The moieties could attempt to trade at any village or market passed on their journey. Once the moieties arrived at the next temple the items would be compared and the moiety with the best ‘totem’ object would be treated to apint by the other. Moieties were chosen and the appropriate word of blessing were spoken by both groups: “yewergo’indwn”, loosely translated: “May the gods above look favorably upon you, for when we are finished I will hand you your ass.”
And so the Waterlooians left the blessed gra’dhows, with their mascot George the monkey, and inquisitive ethnographer in tow, for a night of revelation, spiritual illumination and general primitive fun.
End Part I
