Saturday, March 04, 2006

Pow Wow 1972



Summers were infinite when we were small, stretching endlessly as the prairie skyline. I remember going to the Pow Wows at the Dene Nation reserve to see the displays and watch the dance competitions. The world is a sea of legs when you are so small, so my strongest memories of the Pow Wows consist of a tangle of legs and beautiful costumes, and the hard flat earth pummelled dry by moccassined feet.

The airmen from the base would intermingle companionably with the tribe, having established a friendly commerce of meat and skins and gorgeously beaded crafts for cash. I still love the taste of deer meat and the close smoky scent of tanned hide.

I was always the kind of child who was prone to wander off - an inclination of nature I have to this day, (only those around me no longer refer to it as "getting lost".) I never felt lost, I felt grounded and at home, willing to walk a little farther just to see what was coming up next. My parents would eventually notice my absence and there would be a posse of older brother and sisters sent out to round me up, but it was always Dad who could draw me back. He never really looked for me, he'd just rattle his keys and change in his pockets, and the familiar sound was something I could pick out in any crowded mall, party, or even over the steady beat of pow wow drums.

Dad could also whistle skillfully, complicated little birdsongs all seemingly founded on the Waltzing Matilda/ Oh My Darling Clementine melodies. I would gravitate back to Daddy with a sure homing instinct, and while the others were off distractedly looking for me, I'd slip my hand into his and he would just keep on whistling. If I wandered away at the Pow Wow, the posse would have no chance of rounding me up, with my long tangled dark hair, I blended into the Native band like one of their own, and I did feel I belonged there. Somehow I felt these kind and colourful strangers were my people and I was graced at an early age with knowing I belong to this world. I remember feeling safe when I wandered off, knowing that even if my family was lost somewhere, I was "here". The dancers were kicking up dust all around me, I remember sitting on the edge of a low platform/stage, feeling calm, solid, complete - waiting to be found, knowing I would be found.

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