Mate: The legend of the Mate Tree

Mate is drunk as a refreshing invigorating tea in Argentina, Uruguay, Paraguay and Brazil. It is now sold in different forms in Europe, however, nothing is as nice as sharing it directly from the gourd. This legend of the Mate tree comes from the Guarani Indians.

The legend of the tree of the moon
One evening, two Guarani people were coming back from hunting when they heard some cries coming from the inside of the rainforest. _ It must be Ñacurutú the crying owl- said one of them. The other man said nothing, but signaled to his friend that he was going into the forest to find out. The rain forest was dense with vegetation covering most of the paths, walking was therefore very difficult. The man was walking very slowly, carefully... listening attentively to the crying sounds that we coming closer and closer. Suddenly, Yasi, the LadyMoon, showed her light from between the branches of the trees, and with a magic white finger, pointed to a place in the bushes. There, barely illuminated by the rays of the moon was a little child.

The man picked up the child and took him back to his village. There, the women welcomed the baby and fed him, and took care of him as though he were one of their own. Eventually, the child grew up, learned to walk, talk and had friends. He was called "Moroti" which means "white" in guarani. Everyone loved Moroti. He was a restless child; he would run here and there always investigating things, and helping out. you could see him scampering towards the fishermen and helping them unload the barges with fish; he would also bring wood from the forest to help feed the fires; he was often at the potters' shed where he loved to sink in his little fingers in the clay.

The Search for the LadyMoon.
However, when the Moon would shine, Moroti would sink into the ground, and spend a lot of time silently gazing at the moon. The village would be all asleep, resting comfortably in their hammocs, even the dogs would stop barking as they fell asleep, but Morotí would not sleep. He wouls spend the whole night looking at the moon.

One night, Morotí disappeared. The children, the women, the hunters, everyone looked and looked for him everywhere in the rainforest and they could not find him. However, at the break of daylight, Morotí came back, tired, and with water dribbling from his head.

-Morotí, where were you? -asked everyone.
-I was swimming in the river -he answered. -The Moon was floating in the water, and I wanted to catch her. She was always running away from me no matter how fast I swam and swam. The people from the village just shook their heads and smiled.

Time passed. Morotí became a young hunter who could navigate his canoe even through storms and rapids, and was the best of the hunters with his bow and arrow. When his time came, he built his own hut. When the hut was finished, he stood by the entrance to the hut to wait. Night arrived.

Yasí, the LadyMoon, showed her beautiful face on the sky and slowly, very very slowly, let her light beam down unto the village and found the new hut, Moroti's hut. The light trembled and entered only through the openings of the roof made of twigs. Slowly, slowly, more of the moonlight entered the hut. Morotí could not believe his eyes, he quietly laughed all by himself. He had succeeded. He had finally captured Yasi and would keep her forever in his hut! he ran to close the door of his hut and as he did so....the hut was plunged into darkness.. the moonlight had escaped....

Morotí ran out of the hut and desperately went up the river in search of a path to take him to Yasí, the LadyMoon. Moroti walked an walked. Many days passed, and he continued walking, however, despite his best efforts, no river, nor mountain, nor path was long enough and steep enough to reach the sky. Sometimes, his hopes were high, when he was following a path up a mountain that seemed to get lost into the sky, but as he reached the mountain top, he would see that Yasi, was still very far away. He soon grew exhausted and cold and lonely. He had left the rain forest and was in a foreign land. He wanted to be amongst his friends in the village, and slowly, with a lot of effort, he retraced his steps and returned home.

When he came back to the village people were happy to welcome him back but he was no longer the Moroti of olden times. He had lost his lust for life and just sat inside his hut... everyone in the village, noticed the changed, but said nothing, in respect for his sadness.


Yasi and Arai

One night, Morotí saw the reflection of the moon, hitting some blades of grass. It was the footprint of Yasí. Morotí followed the footprints in the darkness. The footprints glowed in the dark like dewdrops of light. Suddenly, Morotí saw her again, standing at the top of a mountain. There she was, the Moon, transformed into a beautiful girl; holding hands with another girl, Araí, the cloud.

Morotí followed them crouching and hiding behind the widest trees and the tallest of bushes. But Yaguaret, the tiger, soon found him out. In the darkness, Moroti and the tiger, fought. Yaguareté was hungry but the boy still had some strength and cunning left from his days as a warrior, and was able with difficulty to kill the tiger.


The light from the moon brightened the forest, just as Moroti stepped out from the river cleaning himself after the battle. -Take me he said. The Moon, took his hand, and soon Morotí was floating in the sky. He was careful not to step on the tiny stars, and not to kick at the clouds with his feet. Everything was so beautiful that in the height of the night, time stood still, and Morotí forgot his village and his people. However, as a waft of wind brought the smell of the forest and the river, Morotí remembered and he was lonely again and was longer happy.

Yasí, the Moon, told him: -Go back to your people, Morotí I will never forget you and I promise you that I will always be with you. The Moon turned Morotí into a tree, the Ca-á tree, the tree of the mate leaves. The leaves of the Ca-á are almost magical: they give strength and happiness. Moroti's village, and all the other tribes of the regions began to use the leaves as a wonderous drink to strengthen and restore them.

Hidden inside the tree, the spirit of Moroti is still alive, and every night, the white fingers of Yasi, fondle the Moroti's head, as the light of the moon bathes the Ca-a tree-tops.


Credits
The picture of the Guarani Child was taken by CARFE The picture of the man drinking mate was taken by Maplemusketeer.The moonscape photo was taken by Graham Hodgson. The picture of the moonlinght in the forest was taken by Kiri-D.The picture of the moon and the clouds was taken by Iratxo. The picture of the moon over the tree tops was taken by jzakariya