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[When working with the Yuqui] In the end it is strength that is valued and that earns respect. This lesson was driven home one day when I was physically assaulted by one of the young women, Susana. I had taught the children to sing a few old songs that I could play on a battered guitar given to one of the older lads by a colonist upriver. Their favorite was "Oh, Su2anna!" But because it was in English, Susana, the Yuqui woman, was uncertain if it was meant to tease her. One afternoon as we were all seated on a log singing, she suddenly leaped on me, laughing, but also quite serious about establishing her dominance. Although if was done in fun, I quickly reali2ed that much more was at stake. Susana outweighed me by at least 30 pounds, and I soon found myself in the infamous Yuqui choke hold I had read about in the mission's "Culture File." Susana's strong thumb and fingers were wrapped around my windpipe. I could feel the tears well up in my eyes, the fear beginning to creep in that she would hold on until I passed out. If I did, I knew, I would be an object of ridicule. Still, I restrained myself, a lifetime of parental admonitions and the moral teachings of my own culture forbidding me to respond with violence. Then I experienced the sensation that everything was becoming quiet. I could see mouths laughing but the only sound was my own heart pounding. From some deep place within, the need to fight back overcame all of my inhibitions: I could feel the adrenaline begin to clear my head. I reached up with one hand and grabbed Susana just as she had me, but at the same time pulling her free arm behind her back. Now there was a different look in her eyes. The laughing stopped. I could feel her windpipe resisting my grip but tightened down even more. I was both exhilarated and disgusted by my actions. Finally, I rolled her off me, laughing as I did. There was no real victor, but at least I had held my own. For the next several days, the Yuqui admired the bruises on my neck like same badge of courage. We continued singing "Oh, Suzanna!" without further incident I also began to realize that my behavior was as carefully scrutinized by the Yuqui as theirs was by me. This scrutiny was more than just curiosity or even judgment. Once I had been accepted as a person of some worth and value, a status that took great energy on my part to achieve, the Yuqui began to consider my responses to given situations with thought and re8eciion. They are a people insecure in this new world of theirs. There is an innate comprehension that much of their old understanding of the world no longer applies. Because they are a very small group that has experienced long-term reduction in population and has lost much of its original culture, there is very little of their tradition that they are willing to fight for. Like the Ik of Africa, for many generations the Yuqui have had little time to do much other than try to stay alive. This in itself is a brutali2ing experience, as Turnbull found in Uganda, a way of life that can rob people of much of their basic humanity.
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