Traditional Women's Dance

Reservations

I have not written in several days. It doesn't bother me too much, except for letting my audience down! I have been enjoying the weekend at the Warm Springs Indian Reservation, at the Annual Pi-Ume-Sha Treaty Pow Wow Celebration (that's a mouthful). I only intended to stay a day and a half, but a three day Pow Wow is scheduled for you to stay all three days if you want to see the dances. There were fourteen drums around the arena, and each would take a turn playing the song for the next round of dancers. Each drum had six to twelve men hitting it simultaneously, singing in chorus. It was mesmerizing. The whole community seemed to be represented in the dancing too. There were categories even for children under four, and you would be shocked at how well they could keep the beat. There were "traditional" dances and "fancy" dances, and the songs would change sutitly between dances so that the dancers were suddenly doing a whole new set of moves, hooting out in time with the music.

There were other things that shocked me. The number of parents who seemed to still be in their mid-teens, the gang tattoos sprawling over their necks and arms. Young parents missing all their front teeth, likely from a meth-addiction. Groups of young men looking tough in the parking lot, bandanas and tattoos, occassionally being arrested and chatting with Pow Wow geusts as they were escorted out in cuffs. "See you at the Bar-B-Que tomorrow!"

Despite all this, the crowd seemed warm and friendly, and I felt safe in my trailer, sleeping among all the tents with all the families camping around the Pow Wow grounds.

Early on the second day, I befriended a man named Eldon. He had two young foster children (parents lost to meth), who seemed to follow him silently from place to place. He seemed excited to meet me, to tell me everything about himself (and he did). Then, he said, you need a tour of the reservation, and we piled into his truck and went for a drive.

Eldon pointed at every single building and house, told me when it was built and how the reservation used it, where the people who lived there worked, and how much they paid for rent. He told me the kind of details I would not tell someone touring in my town. "Here is the Parks Department where they keep all the lawnmowers to maintain the public areas." He also told me where things used to be. "This field used to be the cafeteria for the school, where I had my meals when I was boarding in this building here. (He points to a grassy area.) Now, the children use it to play tag, baseball, run around, picnic, whatever."

The place he was most proud to show me was an old church way up in the hills. His great great grandfather was a preacher there, and it was somehow still standing. The sun had baked the planks into a warm honey-color.

The girls ran around the houses, and I started showing them how my camera worked. Each time I took a picture, they ran to see how it came out. I asked them questions, asked them to imagine how things worked when this building was built. They got excited. It wasn't long before they were holding my hands as we walked around. If I had a water bottle in my hand, they would carry it to free me up to hold theirs.

Eldon took me to a bar-b-que, then appeared the next morning and took me to the museum where I saw a picture of his grandfather. The girls held me hands, took sips from my water, and sat next to me everywhere. I took pictures of them, which they loved, demanding more. When it was time to go, they hugged me, said they didn't want to let go, told me they loved me. Eldon presented me with gifts, (insisting it was the Indian way, that it would be rude to refuse or offer anything in return) a beautiful silver necklace, a beaded change bag, two miniature woven baskets, a bag of pencils, and an antique blue bottle.

Last night, I arrived at the Oregon coast. It was strange to be driving again, and very quiet. The Pacific Ocean was hidden to me, until I hiked over the high sand dunes, then wind pushing me back. It was bitterly cold, and I had the place to myself. The sun was setting and the wind was blowing the sand to carve the flesh off my bones. The Pacific, like a lover you haven't seen for a while, and rages at you for your absence.

When I got back to my trailer, settling in to read my book ("On the Road," still), the phone rang. It was Eldon, checking to see where I ended up and that I got their safely. The girls each came on and told me about their day. When I hung up, I started thinking I may have found a few more family members on my trip. No one told me that might happen.

Sweat Lodge 1 - read in order!

Sweat lodge 2

Sweat lodge 3

Sweat lodge 4

Sweat lodge 5 - read in nummerical order or it won't make sense!

Reconnecting

Passing through downtown Hood River, I saw a little shop that I just knew belonged to my long lost friend, Suzy. Even still, I almost left. I almost left the state after standing right on her doorstep and not taking a knock. But I didn't. I knocked. And she was as warm and welcoming as I remembered her, and insisted I follow her home and stay the evening with her and her husband. They bought a house in a remote corner of the valley, with a large meadow full of garden and chickens, and two teenage goat ladies, who rubbed their heads against my hands like my cats do.
I wish I could explain how warm and beautiful it was, how content I was, and entranced by these little food animals running around. The chickens laid brown, blue, green and white eggs, and they made a beautiful omelet the next morning.
Kvan insisted I take a basket of two dozen eggs, and he clipped greens out of his garden to send with me. I hated to go, and could see I was welcome to stay, but I was determined to get to Portland and the museums.The museums were a disappointment, mostly because I found navigating the city with the trailer so difficult. I dropped it off at a trailer park, and felt odd and bulky driving the car around, suddenly going too fast and breaking too hard, struggling to navigate and park. Finally, I decided Portland would be like New York City was for me--a place I would not be able to enjoy until my second trip. Accepting this, I returned to my trailer, stopping at Trader Joe's and now at Barnes and Noble (my 'hits' of big-box civilization). I have an early journey tomorrow to get up into the mountains, park my trailer, then 4WD to a remote hot springs for a Inipi Ceremony I am looking forward to. I will be out of Internet or phone range tomorrow. I will post as soon as I can.

Hood River, OR

Hood River is a hippie town, a combination of downtown Santa Cruz (where I went to school) with the mountains, the Colorado river, and wine country, sitting under a snow-covered volcano.

That tattoo says "I got Naked." It's from the "Naked Winery" where I had a wine tasting.
Sorry for the crappy photo. I'll do better next time.

This town is the town that reflects everything inside me, at least, everything I want to be. It is ecologically conscious, politically active (or at least vocal), organic and veggie-oriented, filled with good wines and beers, between the woods and the water. I had friends years ago who moved to this very town and convinced their family to move with them. I long lost contact with them, so have not met up with them while here. Too bad. I can picture moving here, spontaneously, and making them neighbors again.

Last night, I had the most amazing pizza. I didn't describe it in my last post, because I was so drop-dead tired from driving 370 miles, the longest stretch I have made on this trip. I was ready to be in a Blue State, to be in a liberal area with local foods, fresh salads and all. You don't know how much you will miss these things until they are gone (or scarce). My pizza was a wheat crust with toppings of butternut squash, bacon, blue cheese, and parmesan. It was so amazing and rich, I could only have two pieces before taking the rest home.

Today, I went into town and had local wine, and a beautiful salad with iced, free-trade coffee. It is warm and sunny (first day to use the 70 spf sunscreen). Tonight, I will sleep in Portland, and tomorrow, I will see the Art Museum, the History Museum, and the Craft Museum there. It is a lot of museums for one day, but I can handle it. :)