Cuban farmers moved inland to reach the soil they called red land

In the Cuban province of Maniabon, villages sit several kilometres from the coast, next to the fertile ground people there still call tierras rojas, the red lands. El Chorro de Maita is the best known of them. Houses went on hillsides, high enough to stay clear of flooding and close enough to work the fields below. What made the inland ground worth the move was the conuco, the raised mound of worked soil that Caribbean farmers heaped up and planted, which yields far more manioc and maize than scratch cultivation on thin coastal dirt. Distance from the shore did not mean turning away from the sea. Trails ran back to the coast and the fishing and the shell beds stayed in use. The pattern is a considered one. Farmers went where the soil was, kept their houses out of the water, and held onto the coast by walking to it.

At the feast of Mary in August 1449 the Emperor Zara Ya'iqob gathered the leaders of the Ethiopian church at the monastery of Dabra Mitmaq in Shoa. Two Egyptian metropolitans came, along with the abbots of Dabra Hayk, Dabra Libanos, Dabra Bizan, Dabra Damo and many other houses. The question was the Sabbath. One monastic party, the House of Ewostatewos, kept the Jewish Saturday and had been refusing ordination from the metropolitan for decades; the rest of the kingdom ignored it. The emperor, who had spent twenty years shut up in the mountain prison at Amba-Gishan before taking the throne in 1434, had thought the matter through and written books about it. The council agreed that both days would be kept and that the Ewostathians would accept ordination again. Ethiopians have observed two Sabbaths ever since. The province that mattered politically lay in the north, near the Red Sea coast the emperor was determined to control.

On 5 December 1492 Columbus brought his ships to the north coast of the island and named it La Isla Espanola, the Spanish island. Philippe Girard begins his history of Haiti at this point. What the Spanish found was a worked landscape. The island supported a large population living in villages under chiefs, growing cassava, sweet potato and maize in raised mounds, fishing the reefs, playing a ball game on prepared courts, and moving between islands in large canoes. Within fifty years almost all of it was gone. The naming is the part to notice. On the first day of contact the island acquired a Spanish identity in Spanish records, and the words its inhabitants used for it went into the archive as curiosities. Everything the Spanish did afterward followed from the assumption buried in that name. The country that eventually threw them and their French successors out chose to call itself Ayiti, a word taken from the people who were there first.

After weeks out of the Canaries the ships made land on 12 October 1492 at an island in the Bahamian archipelago. The people living there called it Guanahani. Columbus went ashore with a notary and a royal standard, performed the ceremony of possession in the name of Ferdinand and Isabella, and gave the island a new name, San Salvador. Nobody on the Taino side had any way of knowing what the ritual meant, and the document it produced was written in a language none of them read. Which island in the Bahamas this was remains argued over, since several candidates fit the sailing directions in the log. The naming matters more than the location. The first act of the encounter was the replacement of a local name with a Spanish one, backed by a legal formula devised in Europe to turn land already occupied by other people into crown property. That formula was applied to Hispaniola eight weeks later.