Hoya, Hoya, Hoya
We have all heard the white man’s version of Thanksgiving but as the Native Americans well know, the white man sometimes speaks with forked tongue. Here is their version.
“Looking back now,” said the chief to his Tribe, “it is easy to see we Native Americans should have had much tougher immigration laws.”
The whole tribe stood on their feet and yelled in unison, “Hoya, hoya, hoya.”
“Prior to the first Thanksgiving, we had much to be thankful for in this land of ours. There was no such thing as taxes, bankers or debt. The women did most of the hard labor, and it was the man’s job to go hunting or fishing all day. At night, we danced. We had no pollution and we knew the land was to be cherished and preserved. Our old people lived with the family and the Tribe never took any action unless everyone agreed. Then, the white man came and ‘discovered’ this country we had all been living in for thousands of years. The white man ‘discovered’ this new country by walking over trails which were made by our forefather’s moccasins.”
Again, the Tribe all stood as one and yelled, “Hoya, hoya, hoya.”
“The white man promised great progress,” continued the chief. “He cut down our trees and planted telephone poles in their place. He promised us all an Apple iPhone despite the fact we had no cell towers and our smoke signals worked just fine. We never got a wrong number, never got a phone bill or a robocall. We couldn’t be put on hold either. They replaced our medicine man with Medicare. But our medicine man made house calls and never charged for his services. Now, the white man cannot afford to get sick. He practices very bad medicine.”
“Hoya, hoya, hoya,” screamed the crowd.
“The white man brought with them their own religious ideas which they said were superior to ours. They told us our spirit was not the real one and they brought forth something they called televangelists. And, they broke down our customs. It was always a Native American custom that the husband showed respect for the mother-in-law by never meeting her face to face or speaking to her. Now, we are forced to live in the same hogans with them.”
The crowd grew especially violent and again cried out, “Hoya, hoya, hoya.”
“Even after the colonists had only been in this country of ours for two years, our forefathers could see they were a bad lot. Eighty Native Americans were invited to the very first Thanksgiving celebration, which lasted three days by the way. The white man said he invited the Native Americans in appreciation for helping the colonists to survive, but the Native Americans could see these ignorant ill-bred foreigners just wanted more of our secrets to survival.”
Again a resounding, “Hoya, hoya, hoya.”
“Those Native Americans at the first Thanksgiving were not that stupid. Sure, we were forced to bury the hatchet temporarily because all the warpaths had been paved. But we would someday get even with the palefaces. And it wouldn’t just be by making the last few minutes of General Custer’s life uncomfortable either. It was at the very first Thanksgiving that those Native American dinner guests would get even with the white man on behalf of all our succeeding generations.”
“For it was at the very first Thanksgiving,” continued the chief, “that we taught those illegal aliens how to smoke tobacco and how to eat poultry! Don’t you see my friends, turkey meat is the Native American’s ultimate revenge. White and dark meat, turkey giblets and turkey leftovers will be our vengeance. Someday, my bronzed skinned friends, all this land will belong to the Native Americans once again.”
And the Native Americans cried out one last time, “Hoya, hoya, hoya,”… the Native American word for revenge.