I know, I know, I haven't posted in much too long. I keep TRYING, but my dad has been using the computer all the time. It wasn't that bad when he did everything on his OWN laptop, but it died, so now he's using OURS. Already, it's slower and needs to be restarted more often. I really hope he can buy one for himself and transfer everything from his account on it or something so that this one still lives.
Since I have more to say than usual, I will separate this into two posts.
I had to do two history projects, as I think I mentioned before. They were both for Hernán Cortés, but they were pretty different. I particularly like something I wrote for one of them from the perspective of an Aztec. (Yay historical fiction!) I shall post it below, with definitions/explanations/translations after it, since I'm guessing some stuff will be confusing otherwise.
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I am Yaretzi. I am a young daughter from the city of Tenochtitlán. The Mexica Empire was once very large and powerful, but it has been brought down by a white man. I have seen many friends and family die and houses crumble. I am currently hiding from the conflict, watching what goes on from a distance.
It began a few years ago when my mother and father told me and my siblings to come with them to the procession. We stood in the audience as the tlatoani greeted the visitors. I was shocked by their appearance, with their light skin and bright, shiny clothing. Most of them wore metal hats atop their heads. They nearly glowed.
There is a story I had been taught when I was little. It told that someday Quetzalcóatl, who is described to be tall, light-skinned, and bearded, was to return to our land in the year of Ce Acatl. We had been waiting during Ce Acatl for him, and he came.
The leader, the one thought to be Quetzalcóatl, spoke in a strange language, which was interpreted by one man into a different language, and then a woman interpreted that and translated to Náhuatl. I was not close enough to hear what was exchanged, but everyone knew they called themselves Españoles.
For a little while, the Españoles staying in the city were nothing more than a nuisance. A few wandered around town at times, while most stayed near their leader, who was usually with Huey Tlatoani. Moctezuma II, the tlatoani of the time, was seen giving lavish gifts to the white man. I knew this was true when I noticed that all of the Españoles on the streets gradually had added jewelry and fine clothing to their wardrobe.
In the middle of one of our festivals, a fight broke out, in which Moctezuma was killed. I do not know whether it was by Mexicas or Españoles, although the latter seems more likely. Following the event, my father joined many others in pushing the Españoles out of our city. There were many casualties on their side. By then, I believe most of us knew that it was not Quetzalcóatl.
We went on with our lives.
The fake god returned about a year later. He was now determined to take over our Empire. What happened between that day and now is a blur. We are warriors, but the fighting had always occurred in other places, not in Tenochtitlán, until then. There were battles that cost the lives of so many people. My father left to face the Españoles again, but did not come back. Then my brothers left to fight. My mother warned me and my sisters to try to find safety as quickly as possible, which I complied to. Along the way to my hiding place, I saw many of my neighbors in struggles, and my friends in danger.
From the safety of where I currently am, I have seen my fellow Mexicas come into the city with their mighty weapons, then leave tied in ropes as slaves. I feel sad, knowing that there is nothing I can do to help anyone.
I understand little of their language, but I have heard a few of the light-skinned men refer to the land as Nueva España, and our city as Ciudad de México. They have already toppled some of the buildings to put new ones in their place. They are destroying our gods and putting their own instead. They may spread their ideas as they please if it is peacefully, but I believe forcing this upon us is wrong.
I hope that, at the end of all of this, the gods will save us and everything will be alright.
I am Yaretzi. I am a young daughter from the city of Tenochtitlán. The Mexica Empire was once very large and powerful, but it has been brought down by a white man.
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Yaretzi: My mom was the one to help me with the concept for this. We started with looking up names that come from Náhuatl, the language of the Aztecs. This is a girl name.
Tenochtitlán: This is the center of the Aztec Empire. Notice that the accent is at the very end, not on the 'i'.
Mexica: This is what the Aztecs were really called. 'Aztec' came many more years later, not sure from where.
tlatoani: The closest translation for this word would be governor of the empire.
Quetzalcóatl: This is one of the most important Aztec gods, so you can understand why they pretty much worshiped Cortés until they figured out he was just a horrible, greedy guy. (I'm totally not biased.)
Ce Acatl: Go look up the Aztec Calendar.
The interpreters: Cortés picked up two interpreters before he went to Tenochtitlán. The first was a Spanish ex-priest who learned the Chontal Maya language. The second was a woman known as La Malinche who grew up speaking Chontal Maya, then learned Náhuatl. Through these two, the Spanish could speak with the tlatoani.
Españoles: Spaniards
Huey Tlatoani: This is how they called the tlatoani. I guess it's kinda the equivalent of "Mr. President".
Moctezuma II: He treated Cortés like a god, since he believed that he really was one. He didn't just 'give' everything, though; the Spanish stole a lot of the Aztec treasury, too.
Moctezuma: Some accounts say that he was killed by a rock to the head thrown by one of his own people, but we can't be totally sure.
Noche Triste: This is what the night in which many Spanish were killed is called. It is in the same night as when Moctezuma was killed.
Nueva España: Cortés declared the Aztec Empire for Spain, and so Mexico was now under Spanish rule. Naturally, it was named this. Cortés was the one to name Ciudad de Mexico, or Mexico City. He was governor of New Spain for about 4 years.
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