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INSTITUTE OF SOCIAL ANTHROPOLOGY — PUBLICATION NO. 10 



trees — most of them thus occur during the months 

 of August, September, October, and November. 



Mead is made from a mixture of cooked corn 

 meal (or cooked manioc or cooked camotes) , water, 

 and wild bee honey. It is always made by the 

 women. The maize is first ground up fine in a 

 mortar. The corn meal is then mixed with water 

 and boiled in a clay pot until it becomes thick 

 gruel. The hot gruel (not masticated as by many 

 South American Indians) is then emptied into 

 calabashes (containing only a small round hole at 

 the top), each of which is about half-filled with 

 cold water, until they are filled to about four-fifths 

 of their capacity. After the gruel and the water 

 have been thoroughly mixed with a small stick, 

 about half a cup of wild honey for each quart of 

 mixture is added to the calabashes. The honey is 

 then stirred into the mixture, and the holes of the 

 calabashes are loosely stopped with leaves of 

 patuju to keep out flies and to allow some air for 

 fermentation. The calabashes are then stored 

 (undisturbed) in hanging baskets for about 3 

 days, when the brew is considered to be of sufficient 

 force (about the strength of beer) to be drunk. 



In making other types of beer the same process 

 is followed, the only difference being that manioc 

 (or camotes) is substituted for maize in making the 

 gruel. To increase the strength of the beer, to 

 make it more nourishing, and to hasten the 

 fermentation process, boiled or baked corn-meal 

 cakes are sometimes added to the brew. 



Calabashes are considered to be the most suit- 

 able type of vessel for fermenting native beer, 

 although when there was a shortage of these 

 vessels 1 observed that it was fermented in long 

 sections of bamboo. 



The making of mead is accompanied by con- 

 siderable excitement and bustle. Great care is 

 taken to see that the mixture turns out all right. 

 There are always plenty of children present hoping 

 to get a bit of the honey, and the women usually 

 do not lack helpers, since jealous neighbors, gen- 

 erally uncooperative, offer their services in the 

 hope that they too will get a chance to partake of 

 the honey while the mead is being made. More 

 often than not they are brushed off and return to 

 their hammocks unrewarded. 



Drinking bouts usually start informally. The 

 man possessing the liquor invites a number of his 

 male relatives to join him in consuming what beer 

 he may have on hand. Bouts generally start in 



the afternoon, and, depending upon the quantity 

 of liquor available, may last until far into the night 

 or even be continued on the following day. The 

 participants squat in a circle near the host's ham- 

 mock, and as a calabash of mead is passed around, 

 each in his turn drinks heavy draughts before 

 passing it to the next person in the circle. The 

 drinking is always accompanied by continual 

 smoking of clay pipes (also passed around the 

 circle), which ultimately contributes as much or 

 more to the resulting intoxicated or drugged con- 

 dition as does the somewhat light and nourishing 

 native beer. 



As a drinking feast progresses, the Siriono, who 

 is a very uncommunicative fellow when sober, be- 

 comes an animated conversationalist, a performer, 

 and a braggart. At the opening of the bout the 

 talk usually turns to the merits of the liquor. One 

 of my more poetic informants, Eresa-eanta (Strong- 

 eyes), used to say, in describing the liquor at the 

 start of almost every drinking feast: "Yesterday 

 it was without force, like water or like earth, but 

 today it has great strength." As the effects of 

 the drinking and the smoking begin to be felt, one 

 or more of the participants breaks out in song, 

 usually impromptu and related to some exploit 

 of which he is particularly proud, such as the 

 killing of a tapir or a harpy eagle. Another may 

 be engaged in discussing the desirability of looking 

 for a new wife (always a young one or yukwdki) or 

 of casting out the shrew he now has. As the mood 

 gets mellower everyone joins the singing, and 

 when the party has reached an advanced stage 

 almost everyone is singing a different tune at the 

 same time. 



While attending these drinking feasts, I tried 

 my best to record a number of these songs, but I 

 was never able to set down more than snatches of 

 them because of the bedlam and the darkness 

 existing at the time. Moreover, since most of the 

 participants, following a drinking bout, were 

 victims of alcoholic amnesia, brutal hangovers, and 

 high anxieties, it was impossible to get much co- 

 operation from them in this matter later. 



At every drinking feast of any size most of the 

 nonparticipating members of the group are as- 

 sembled at the edge of the circle. The spectators 

 amuse themselves listening to the songs and the 

 conversation, commenting on the course of the 

 feast, and waiting for the participants to get drunk 

 enough so that they can sneak a drink now and 



