Many centuries ago, a kind Chumash man was strengthening a hut where he kept his flock of sheep because the Great Council of Chiefs (GCC) predicted much rain. As he added layers of strong native tule reeds, a very important chief (VIC) approached and ordered the man to his or her side.
“Insignificant Chumash nobody,” the VIC said. “Have you received permission to work on your hut from the GCC?”
“I didn’t know I needed permission to protect my flock of sheep from the rain,” the Chumash man replied. “If they get wet and cold, they will surely die.”
“Nonsense,” the VIC said. “Don’t you know that, unless the sheep have a bad spirit or microbe, they will not get sick from the rain and the cold? Let me know when you get permission.”
With that remark, the VIC walked up the path. Soon, the kindly Chumash received a parchment from the GCC. It demanded that he stop work and pay 4,000 clean abalone shells to get permission to do the work he had already done.
“Hmmm,” the foolish Chumash man thought. “I wonder if other villagers are treated like me?”
He walked around his neighborhood and saw dozens of other campsites with offenses against the Code of the Village.
“Hmmm,” the nice Chumash man thought to himself. “I wonder if I am being singled out for special treatment for some reason, since these other folks are not being subjected to the same scrutiny and heavy punishment by the GCC as me. And yet there they are, apparently, offending the Code of the Village.”
Confused as usual, he sighed and scratched his head with a tule reed.
The fable’s ending has long been lost to the centuries, but it does make one wonder when an individual becomes subject to the scrutiny of the “powers that be” that there might be some personal issue being settled on behalf of a special “friend” of one of the GCC.
We Chumash are all created equal, just some are more equal than others, it seems.
Marshall Thompson