Singing while you pound (or grind)

Continuing with my round up of comments, not in any particular order.

Cindy Bertelsen talks about African women singing while they pound.  I bet it helps the rhythm. I would love, absolutely love, to hear it.

From the start, I asked Mexican women about chatting while they grind.  Was grinding together a bonding experience? A moment for women to share? You know the kind of stuff.

Ask a silly question.  They were polite enough not to give me a silly answer.  They just looked at me as if I was out of my mind.

Once I tried it, it was glaringly obvious that a grinder was bound to be lonely and isolated.  No breath for chat, no breath to sing.  Nothing like this happy lady.

Indeed before electric mills were as common in villages as they now are, a friend who worked for DIF (a govermental agency with responsibility for families) told me that to reduce child abuse putting in a mill was the first thing they did.

How so.  Well mothers faced a dilemna.  Grind so that the children have food. Or pay attention to the childrens’ other needs.  Not a nice choice and feeding won out over paying attention.

Take this for what it’s worth.  It’s anecdotal and I would like some statistics.

But yes Matt.  So much for the easy life.  And yes Sandy who did the grinding, how many of them, how much of society’s energy, crucial questions. And Jeremy, I don’t know of comparative studies of the energy required to grind but if we want to understand comparative history, it’s a must.

Which is why, dear Ruth Alegria, you and I continue to battle about the traditions of Mexican villages. I want them recorded.  I am thrilled to have had the opportunity to learn to grind from experts.

But I want this tradition to go, except perhaps as a museum piece.

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