You'll only understand the title if you remember watching Disney's 101 Dalmations (the classic animated version). The twilight bark is the term used for the way the dogs communicate...Pongo barks, another hears and passes it to the next, and so on all the way down the line to the General. While this may have worked in the days before the telephone and internet, is it really used now? Well....I can say it still works today.
Something that took me by surprise when I first moved here was how close the houses were to each other. Where is the space? Where is the privacy? I felt as if I might suffocate. I'm not sure Willie understood why the lack of space bothered me so much until he came to Nova Scotia. As you drive down Highway 289 on the way to my home, songs like "Born Free", or "Wide Open Spaces" or "Lonely" may enter your mind. There are cows, fields, a few houses, more fields, etc etc. You get the picture. Lots and lots of space, quiet and privacy. I think the space made Willie a bit uncomfortable at first.
Back to the twilight bark....well, the human version comes in handy here. Why bother phoning someone when you can go out onto the deck and yell next door? I giggle every time I hear "Willie" or "Noora girl" floating over from behind the hedge. It's equally easy for Willie to yell "Hey Brenda, get up" to his mom (as a joke, of course). And it's quite difficult to sneak around in the mornings. The second or third day back on Haida Gwaii we were sneaking around in the morning, enjoying the quiet after the ambush of family, and we BLEW it by calling the cats in for their breakfast. We froze as we heard "Oh, hey, you're up. Nooooooooora. How's my girl?" Damn, damn, damn. Ah well....we got some breakfast and a coffee out of it!
So being really close to your neighbours is good and bad, depending on the situation. Even though we're so close, it still feels private where we are now..not like our house before! I'm pretty sure the neighbours got a few good shows up in the heights. What can I say? I'm used to privacy...and walking around in undies!
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Who...... lives in a pineapple under the sea?
No, in the OTHER pineapple. You don't know? Well, I'll tell you who used to live there...the octopus we had for lunch yesterday! Yes, folks, I had octopus for lunch. Willingly. Go me!
We went next door, to Nuni's house, yesterday to wish her a Happy Birthday. Noora was all dressed up in her flowery, cream-coloured party dress. We had a tray of cupcakes adorned with purple buttercream icing and silver balls. We had the birthday card marked with Noora's little green footprints. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY NUNI". "Hahaha, it's not today, it's tomorrow". I looked at Willie....the kid is 30...you'd think he'd know which day his mother's birthday fell on. But oh well! Now I know (and I will remember..hopefully!). The early surprise wasn't for nothing, though. Nuni ooh'ed and awww'ed over Noora's dress and the card. The cupcakes were put into the fridge to keep until today (minus one...Willie's nephew was there). And we had a great visit while Nuni was on her lunchbreak. Lunch....
Innocent-looking stir fry. Rice and some kind of meat. We hadn't planned to eat there but Willie's mom insisted I try some. Hmmmm....What kind of stir fry was it? Well, on Haida Gwaii...the answer can be terrifying. On today's menu....octopus. EWWWW. Those things are all wiggly and scary-looking and just....ew...not something I really want to eat. But, of course, my brain piped up, It'd be good for your blog, uh huh....alright, I'll try it...
I grabbed a fork, fished out a big chunk of what I would pretend was chicken, and held it up to my mouth. Willie's mother came over to witness. I took a deep breath and put it in my mouth. I took it out just as it hit my tongue.....ok, breathe....I can do this...in it went, again.
Hmm....chewy, but not rubbery...the flavour wasn't fishy or too salty...it actually tasted..good! The only thing I didn't enjoy was the feeling of my teeth sticking to the meat, but I stopped thinking about it and carried on. Mmmmm...this is really good! I'm shocked! As usual...Oh what will I eat next? Stay tuned!
We went next door, to Nuni's house, yesterday to wish her a Happy Birthday. Noora was all dressed up in her flowery, cream-coloured party dress. We had a tray of cupcakes adorned with purple buttercream icing and silver balls. We had the birthday card marked with Noora's little green footprints. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY NUNI". "Hahaha, it's not today, it's tomorrow". I looked at Willie....the kid is 30...you'd think he'd know which day his mother's birthday fell on. But oh well! Now I know (and I will remember..hopefully!). The early surprise wasn't for nothing, though. Nuni ooh'ed and awww'ed over Noora's dress and the card. The cupcakes were put into the fridge to keep until today (minus one...Willie's nephew was there). And we had a great visit while Nuni was on her lunchbreak. Lunch....
Innocent-looking stir fry. Rice and some kind of meat. We hadn't planned to eat there but Willie's mom insisted I try some. Hmmmm....What kind of stir fry was it? Well, on Haida Gwaii...the answer can be terrifying. On today's menu....octopus. EWWWW. Those things are all wiggly and scary-looking and just....ew...not something I really want to eat. But, of course, my brain piped up, It'd be good for your blog, uh huh....alright, I'll try it...
I grabbed a fork, fished out a big chunk of what I would pretend was chicken, and held it up to my mouth. Willie's mother came over to witness. I took a deep breath and put it in my mouth. I took it out just as it hit my tongue.....ok, breathe....I can do this...in it went, again.
Hmm....chewy, but not rubbery...the flavour wasn't fishy or too salty...it actually tasted..good! The only thing I didn't enjoy was the feeling of my teeth sticking to the meat, but I stopped thinking about it and carried on. Mmmmm...this is really good! I'm shocked! As usual...Oh what will I eat next? Stay tuned!
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Haaw'a!!
I've had over 20 posts so far! YAY! Well...I should have had more...but moving and such took over for a bit. However, the blog seems to be a success! I have fun writing it and I know of several people who have fun reading it. It's always weird to think there are people I do not know reading my blog. But hey! The more, the merrier! In fact, this post is dedicated to them!
Today I met one of these "unknowns", Josina. She's not a total stranger, however, because Willie has known her for some time, and she teaches his nephew from time to time. I finally met her today when she stopped by to drop off a present! Woohoo for presents! She must have found my blog via Willie's Facebook posts, and I'm glad she did! She brought me several cards and photos of the white raven who lived in Port Clements a few years ago. The cards are beautiful!!! We had a great chat, too. She's a fascinating person who shared my interest in the fin whale found in Miller Creek.
This week I was given several other white raven postcards. WOOO! We visited one of Willie's friends, Barb, so she could meet Noora. In the store she works, I noticed a white raven postcard by the cash register. I wanted to buy it but I figured I'd wait until we were ready to leave. A few minutes later, as I was about to skip over to the grocery store in Charlotte to pick up some ingredients for homemade ketchup (that's right, folks..I'm attempting to make my own as it seems to be Willie's main food group haha), Willie handed several of them to me. Well, he stuffed them down my shirt! I looked at Barb and laughed. I asked how much..she said no charge. I was surprised and so happy! Presents!! Haha. I'm not sure if she's read my blog but she knows of it. So I'm the proud owner of a small collection of White Raven cards.
I'd be interested to see how many other people are reading this blog. I know I have some followers, and some have commented via Facebook, but I'm still curious. I'm curious to see what you think. If you have any questions, or ideas for future posts. Ah, hell, I'm just curious about everything, haha. But that's nothing new!! So please, keep reading and I shall keep writing. Haaw'a, everyone. Thank you.
Today I met one of these "unknowns", Josina. She's not a total stranger, however, because Willie has known her for some time, and she teaches his nephew from time to time. I finally met her today when she stopped by to drop off a present! Woohoo for presents! She must have found my blog via Willie's Facebook posts, and I'm glad she did! She brought me several cards and photos of the white raven who lived in Port Clements a few years ago. The cards are beautiful!!! We had a great chat, too. She's a fascinating person who shared my interest in the fin whale found in Miller Creek.
This week I was given several other white raven postcards. WOOO! We visited one of Willie's friends, Barb, so she could meet Noora. In the store she works, I noticed a white raven postcard by the cash register. I wanted to buy it but I figured I'd wait until we were ready to leave. A few minutes later, as I was about to skip over to the grocery store in Charlotte to pick up some ingredients for homemade ketchup (that's right, folks..I'm attempting to make my own as it seems to be Willie's main food group haha), Willie handed several of them to me. Well, he stuffed them down my shirt! I looked at Barb and laughed. I asked how much..she said no charge. I was surprised and so happy! Presents!! Haha. I'm not sure if she's read my blog but she knows of it. So I'm the proud owner of a small collection of White Raven cards.
I'd be interested to see how many other people are reading this blog. I know I have some followers, and some have commented via Facebook, but I'm still curious. I'm curious to see what you think. If you have any questions, or ideas for future posts. Ah, hell, I'm just curious about everything, haha. But that's nothing new!! So please, keep reading and I shall keep writing. Haaw'a, everyone. Thank you.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Can Gardening be Theraputic?
Normally I would laugh at such a question...I mean, really...gardening....HA! But on Haida Gwaii, it IS! Seriously! Now, before you laugh so hard that your beverage (hopefully not a warm one) comes out your nose, let me explain how I came to such an outrageous conclusion:
Wednesday morning (well...technically almost lunchtime): I walk to Nuni Pat's house, which is attached to Dave's In The Village (resturant), to work on a surprise while she's away in Vancouver. I was going to take all of the weeds, and whatever else I found that didn't belong, out of her garden! The previous day we had been in Charlotte and she mentioned, upon seeing a nice shrub covering the concrete wall by the Post Office, that hers might look like that if it was maintained properly. Now, Nuni Pat isn't a homebody, and she definitely doesn't lack any energy, but maybe gardening isn't her thing. Hell, most people I know don't include gardening on their "favourite things to do" list, no matter how old they are. So...lightbulb moment...I'm young..I CAN garden even though I prefer not to (kinda like, I CAN do math but would rather not)...I could do her garden for her as a surprise while she's away! DONE! I let Carla, Willie's sister, in on the surprise and she said she'd come help...good thing, too, because she had all the tools!
So, she beat me to it and had most of the tall, dead grass ripped out when I got there. I planted myself in one corner and started chipping away rather slowly at the moss, grass, dandelions, etc that covered the soil. It was taking a while, but no biggie because I had company...
Carla announces that she has to leave to help out someone else (damn her busy schedule) but she'll leave the tools and come back to check on me in a bit...she also said if I just cleaned up the dead grass behind the fencing, it'd look a hundred times better (just in case I got tired). CRAP! Now how will I garden....no entertainment...I started contemplating the easy route...I mean, really, will Nuni Pat even notice? It's the thought that counts, right?
Ugh....stupid conscience...I had committed to this project and I have to see it through...like Mike Holmes says, Make It Right (I'm pretty sure he copyrighted that statement...oh well)..so, I'll do the damn garden the right way. *grumble grumble*
Well, with Carla gone, I slowly started to garden again. A few minutes passed and I had fallen into a silent, steady pace..almost trance-like, but with elbow grease and a few beads of sweat...then I noticed something...the sound of seagulls...the waves lapping against the shore...the muted crash of the water hitting the rocks...I relaxed a bit.
I started to hum to myself and steadied my pace with that of the water. I looked up periodically to take in the beautiful view of the little island that lies about a mile out in the water, the seagulls stalking the herring who have gathered in the shallows, the lone Eagle that's singing in the cedars behind the resturant...suddenly, gardening didn't seem so bad.
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Nuni Pat got home today (Thursday) but I haven't finished the garden yet. It rained today and will keep raining for the next week according to the Weather Network...so, I may have to suck it up this weekend and get soggy! Let's hope she likes the results!
Wednesday morning (well...technically almost lunchtime): I walk to Nuni Pat's house, which is attached to Dave's In The Village (resturant), to work on a surprise while she's away in Vancouver. I was going to take all of the weeds, and whatever else I found that didn't belong, out of her garden! The previous day we had been in Charlotte and she mentioned, upon seeing a nice shrub covering the concrete wall by the Post Office, that hers might look like that if it was maintained properly. Now, Nuni Pat isn't a homebody, and she definitely doesn't lack any energy, but maybe gardening isn't her thing. Hell, most people I know don't include gardening on their "favourite things to do" list, no matter how old they are. So...lightbulb moment...I'm young..I CAN garden even though I prefer not to (kinda like, I CAN do math but would rather not)...I could do her garden for her as a surprise while she's away! DONE! I let Carla, Willie's sister, in on the surprise and she said she'd come help...good thing, too, because she had all the tools!
So, she beat me to it and had most of the tall, dead grass ripped out when I got there. I planted myself in one corner and started chipping away rather slowly at the moss, grass, dandelions, etc that covered the soil. It was taking a while, but no biggie because I had company...
Carla announces that she has to leave to help out someone else (damn her busy schedule) but she'll leave the tools and come back to check on me in a bit...she also said if I just cleaned up the dead grass behind the fencing, it'd look a hundred times better (just in case I got tired). CRAP! Now how will I garden....no entertainment...I started contemplating the easy route...I mean, really, will Nuni Pat even notice? It's the thought that counts, right?
Ugh....stupid conscience...I had committed to this project and I have to see it through...like Mike Holmes says, Make It Right (I'm pretty sure he copyrighted that statement...oh well)..so, I'll do the damn garden the right way. *grumble grumble*
Well, with Carla gone, I slowly started to garden again. A few minutes passed and I had fallen into a silent, steady pace..almost trance-like, but with elbow grease and a few beads of sweat...then I noticed something...the sound of seagulls...the waves lapping against the shore...the muted crash of the water hitting the rocks...I relaxed a bit.
I started to hum to myself and steadied my pace with that of the water. I looked up periodically to take in the beautiful view of the little island that lies about a mile out in the water, the seagulls stalking the herring who have gathered in the shallows, the lone Eagle that's singing in the cedars behind the resturant...suddenly, gardening didn't seem so bad.
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Nuni Pat got home today (Thursday) but I haven't finished the garden yet. It rained today and will keep raining for the next week according to the Weather Network...so, I may have to suck it up this weekend and get soggy! Let's hope she likes the results!
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
ZzZzzZzzz....WAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!
It's funny how well one can function with so little sleep. Maybe it's a special super power given only to parents...and students. Simply functioning can leave alot to be desired. I feel like I fear I've been turned into a cranky shadow of my normal self. I suppose it doesn't help that when Miss Noora lets us sleep, my precious sleep is scared away by Willie's snoring. Ahh......I think I need my own room, haha. The living room carpet is doing the trick when I need it but I become even crankier when I have to sub out the comfy warm bed for the cold hard floor (but the warm leopard-print blanket helps!). I was quite grateful this morning when Willie got up to grab the munchkin. It's true...misery loves company. I would like to trade in my "being able to function quite well on very little sleep" for his "being able to fall asleep in ten seconds no matter where I am". Maybe it'll come...hopefully!
The reason for the no sleeping has been, you guessed it! Noora! For some reason she has been waking up every three hours or so, no matter how early/late she goes to her crib. She's eating like crazy and my boobs hurt. Hmmmmmm.....sounds like when I wanted to return her at three weeks of age. But she's just so darn cute...and I'll admit, I've become attached, haha. So, the kid stays. I just HOPE she sleeps through the night tonight. I spent my whole day trying to catch up on sleep. Thankfully, so did she (that's what she gets for eating my pancakes this morning).
Even in my cranky, sleep-deprived stupour I have been able to appreciate the beautiful full (or almost full) moon that is shining brilliantly over the ocean tonight. The lights from Sandspit somewhat ruin the view...but it's beautiful, just the same. Yes...this too, shall pass...
Wishing everyone a good night!
~Sidenote:Noora has now started pulling herself forward..quite quickly. The child can go everywhere now! Ahhhhhh....just now she was after the computer cord. Oh my...I need sleep!!!
The reason for the no sleeping has been, you guessed it! Noora! For some reason she has been waking up every three hours or so, no matter how early/late she goes to her crib. She's eating like crazy and my boobs hurt. Hmmmmmm.....sounds like when I wanted to return her at three weeks of age. But she's just so darn cute...and I'll admit, I've become attached, haha. So, the kid stays. I just HOPE she sleeps through the night tonight. I spent my whole day trying to catch up on sleep. Thankfully, so did she (that's what she gets for eating my pancakes this morning).
Even in my cranky, sleep-deprived stupour I have been able to appreciate the beautiful full (or almost full) moon that is shining brilliantly over the ocean tonight. The lights from Sandspit somewhat ruin the view...but it's beautiful, just the same. Yes...this too, shall pass...
Wishing everyone a good night!
~Sidenote:Noora has now started pulling herself forward..quite quickly. The child can go everywhere now! Ahhhhhh....just now she was after the computer cord. Oh my...I need sleep!!!
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Did You Fart?!
It was a valid question (I had milk today after staying away for so long..'nuff said!). Only a few minutes prior I had been giggling away to a secret fart..which Willie noticed soon enough! But no, it wasn't me! Trust me, I would have taken full credit for that stench! HOLY!!! I'm not sure a fart would smell like that...and if it did, I'm pretty sure the person would require medical attention A.S.A.P! Seriously...
We had gone for a short cruise after church this morning. The sun was out. The waves were rolling. The ocean was a shimmering dark blue. And I'm pretty sure I heard the car say "Please, take me for a ride". So we did! We drove down Front St. and continued past Balance Rock (I have yet to visit it since we've been back), and went on our way to Jungle Beach. Well...let's just say when we were almost to Jungle Beach, Willie and I were gagging slightly. We thought maybe something was decomposing in the bushes..it was awful. But then Willie said, "I bet it's the whale". Aha! Yes, that MUST be what it was! I asked if it was far from where we were...we had passed it. YAY!! I made him go back and as soon as we found a place to park, I was out and speed-walking through the tiny trail. Probably not the best thing to do in those flip flops. Trails around here are never flat, never dry and very rarely straight through. But I trekked on.
As I came to the clearing, I still couldn't smell anything. But...there it was. Wow! I had never looked at a whale this closely. It was still magical even though the poor little thing had obviously been dead a long time. So, I got closer. And closer. A little closer. Yup...even closer. When I was about 5 or 6 feet away, I stopped. I was so tempted to go closer and investigate but I was in my good clothes and borrowed flip flops. I've heard the smell stays with you..so yah..I didn't. But wow....It was so sad to see a young Fin whale like that, but still magical. She (I'm assuming it's a she) was on her back...skin dull and browning...tail moving with the waves..I stood in silence, looking into her eye. Such a magnificient creature. I said a prayer in Haida and filled in the parts I didn't know with English...I'm sure she wouldn't mind. I finally managed to pull my gaze from hers. I walked slowly, and silently, in the opposite direction along the beach. Climbed over the driftwood logs. Trudged back through the damp, dark trail lined with berries. And reached the car.
Willie did not want to go see...he's not as interested in slightly morbid things as I am. He asked how it was...I said "Beautiful but sad". He understood. He's seen a beached whale before. The whale must have strayed from her family and starved. Or maybe she was sick. Who knows. But for now she'll rest in the shallow waters of Miller Creek. Til the tide takes her home.
We had gone for a short cruise after church this morning. The sun was out. The waves were rolling. The ocean was a shimmering dark blue. And I'm pretty sure I heard the car say "Please, take me for a ride". So we did! We drove down Front St. and continued past Balance Rock (I have yet to visit it since we've been back), and went on our way to Jungle Beach. Well...let's just say when we were almost to Jungle Beach, Willie and I were gagging slightly. We thought maybe something was decomposing in the bushes..it was awful. But then Willie said, "I bet it's the whale". Aha! Yes, that MUST be what it was! I asked if it was far from where we were...we had passed it. YAY!! I made him go back and as soon as we found a place to park, I was out and speed-walking through the tiny trail. Probably not the best thing to do in those flip flops. Trails around here are never flat, never dry and very rarely straight through. But I trekked on.
As I came to the clearing, I still couldn't smell anything. But...there it was. Wow! I had never looked at a whale this closely. It was still magical even though the poor little thing had obviously been dead a long time. So, I got closer. And closer. A little closer. Yup...even closer. When I was about 5 or 6 feet away, I stopped. I was so tempted to go closer and investigate but I was in my good clothes and borrowed flip flops. I've heard the smell stays with you..so yah..I didn't. But wow....It was so sad to see a young Fin whale like that, but still magical. She (I'm assuming it's a she) was on her back...skin dull and browning...tail moving with the waves..I stood in silence, looking into her eye. Such a magnificient creature. I said a prayer in Haida and filled in the parts I didn't know with English...I'm sure she wouldn't mind. I finally managed to pull my gaze from hers. I walked slowly, and silently, in the opposite direction along the beach. Climbed over the driftwood logs. Trudged back through the damp, dark trail lined with berries. And reached the car.
Willie did not want to go see...he's not as interested in slightly morbid things as I am. He asked how it was...I said "Beautiful but sad". He understood. He's seen a beached whale before. The whale must have strayed from her family and starved. Or maybe she was sick. Who knows. But for now she'll rest in the shallow waters of Miller Creek. Til the tide takes her home.
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| www.gator-woman.com/FinWhale-Lori.jpg |
Friday, September 17, 2010
Xaaydas Gyaagiigay...and other stuff!
Let me begin by mentioning, yet again, that I HATE technology. I had a beautiful post written last night and had saved it here, but, this being the only computer, I had to give it up and take care of the baby. Well...let's just say...my beautiful post is gone. SO...I'm going to try and re-create the moment from what I can remember (don't get your hopes up...I have a major case of baby brain lately) and we'll go from there. Lesson learned? Maybe I should save these elsewhere on the computer from now on. *sigh*
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Wednesday evening I was lucky enough to be able to attend a presentation on contemporary Haida regalia, followed by a discussion on cultural appropriation (the taking of someone's cultural property and passing it off as your own). Well, I cannot tell you anything about the first 30 minutes or so as Miss Noora (whom I had dragged with me...Willie escaped due to work) decided she was hungry and did NOT want to go with her cousin. So...I propped myself up against the back wall of the Performance House at the Haida Heritage Center and tried to listen as best I could while I fed her.
I was more focused on the photos, really. Haida regalia, or Xaaydas Gyaagiigaay, is BEAUTIFUL! It's not just a woven cedar canoe cape, or a pair of painted leather leggings, a shimmering appliqued button blanket, or an intricately carved gold bracelet. It is art! Funny enough, there is no word in the Haida language for art, or artist. It is woven so tightly into the complicated web of history, culture, myth and society, that it just simply...is. The shapes and designs that are used are called formline and this style is what you typically see in Northwest Coast "Art". Thankfully, Noora had finished eating and was sleeping soundly. Her auntie took her while I went back to the front and found my notepad.
I made it just in time. The presenter, Nika Collinson-Robertson, had started to get into all the "rules" of regalia. Perhaps the most important rules surrounded who could wear which crest. A crest is an animal, bird, fish or sometimes person and you mainly see them making up giant totempoles or adorning vests, blankets or jewellery. The main thing is each clan has certain crests that are associated with it. For example, in the Cha'atl clan (Willie's Eagle clan) their crests are Eagle, Bear, Beaver, Five-fin Killer Whale and a Raven's head. The Raven's head was not originally theirs, however. At one time their chief was visiting an friendly territory and died (not anyone's fault, I think Willie told me it was food poisoning..but I'll check that) and the Tsimshian people felt so badly that they gave that clan the right to one of their crests, the Raven head. This is how seriously these rules are regarded...a crest for a life. So basically, if I was to unknowingly give Willie a shirt with Frog on it, he would be unable to wear it. Another thing to note is, Haida society runs on a matrilineal basis...everything is passed on through the mother. The same goes for crests. A father may give his children special permission to use his crests but this permission dies with him. Therefore...I would suggest you do not get a tattoo of one of these crests! This special permission can be given to anyone, I suppose, however it is usually for a specific event or perhaps to be used when in the area, and to use the crest in another context would be disrespectful.
I was surprised to learn that face-paint was another thing that had certain meanings. I had noticed some painted faces during the Clan parade last year but I didn't think too much of it. It turns out that it does mean something! A face painted red on one side and black on the other is a right only the Cha'atl clan has. Having gills painted on one cheek is symbolic of the Dogfish but it's hard to know which clan the person is representing as it's a crest of the Ravens and Eagles. I guess it's like hearing someone's accent and knowing it sounds British, but you can't really pinpoint the area unless you have more information.
I was interested to learn that one can tell so much from a person's regalia. It takes practice to read regalia, however. Some things, especially in contemporary design, may be simply decorative. It's usually pretty easy to pick out a chief if he's wearing regalia...not everyone gets to wear a Chilkat blanket paired with a beautifully crafted headdress. I would say reading regalia is about as simple as reading a tartan. Enough said. I didn't know you could read a tartan until very recently...and it's not easy! Of course, it doesn't help that there are probably as many tartans of Scottish clans than there are people on Haida Gwaii.
This brings me to another point of the evening's discussion (there was so much information on regalia and I promise to share it...eventually!) The second half of the discussion was focused on cultural appropriation. Now, I won't go into great detail here because there was alot of information. I'll save it for another post. However, talking about "adopting" elements from another culture got me thinking. Why try and pass off an exotic culture for your own? It's one thing to love and appreciate things like food, music and art (I mean, who doesn't LOVE a good Italian meal) but it's another to steal a secret family recipe and make millions with it at a commercially run resturant. Make sense? You can take the basics and build upon them to create something new (cultural fusion) without disrespecting the culture, history and tradition. There are numerous charters and rights surrounding this issue and yet people always find ways around them. Apparently the term "Northwest Coast style art" is floating around...and it basically means that someone who non-native has used images, techniques, etc from the Northwest Coast people (could be Haida, Tsimshian, Tlingit, Nishga, Kwakwala or Salish) and replicated it as their own creation. But it's not technically stealing because it's not technically Northwest coast art...
Once you take the piece out of context and mass-produce it, it loses the magic. When you get a piece of regalia or anything really, the proper thing to do is validate it through ceremony. The most common ceremony is a potlach. These are ancient and new. They have been around as a way to pay debts, introduce children, honour chiefs, etc since the beginning of time...but in 1884 they were outlawed. Thank you, missionaries! Anyone caught having a potlach, or even attending one, was jailed. Of course, there was no validating that had to happen because their poles, regalia, chiefs, etc were outlawed too. Wow, that solves the issue of the potlach! (Please note the sarcasm...) It wasn't until the 1950s that the ban was lifted and the people could get back to paying respect and debts the old way..the proper way. So, next time you have the honour of attending a potlach or performance...think of it with this bit of history behind it. It may be cool to have First Nations art and such now...but would you still want it if it meant jail?
I also came out of the talk with numerous questions to which I am waiting a response. I also came out with a renewed sense of pride of my own "from-come" (fun term a friend once used). I will say I'm geared more towards the Scottish roots I have...I knew about the McCouls but I just recently found the connection to the "family of warriors who emigrated from Scotland" known as the MacKenzies, as well as the MacLeods. So...I intend to launch a little side-journey to this journey into my daughter's heritage and find out some pieces of my own puzzle.
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Wednesday evening I was lucky enough to be able to attend a presentation on contemporary Haida regalia, followed by a discussion on cultural appropriation (the taking of someone's cultural property and passing it off as your own). Well, I cannot tell you anything about the first 30 minutes or so as Miss Noora (whom I had dragged with me...Willie escaped due to work) decided she was hungry and did NOT want to go with her cousin. So...I propped myself up against the back wall of the Performance House at the Haida Heritage Center and tried to listen as best I could while I fed her.
I was more focused on the photos, really. Haida regalia, or Xaaydas Gyaagiigaay, is BEAUTIFUL! It's not just a woven cedar canoe cape, or a pair of painted leather leggings, a shimmering appliqued button blanket, or an intricately carved gold bracelet. It is art! Funny enough, there is no word in the Haida language for art, or artist. It is woven so tightly into the complicated web of history, culture, myth and society, that it just simply...is. The shapes and designs that are used are called formline and this style is what you typically see in Northwest Coast "Art". Thankfully, Noora had finished eating and was sleeping soundly. Her auntie took her while I went back to the front and found my notepad.
I made it just in time. The presenter, Nika Collinson-Robertson, had started to get into all the "rules" of regalia. Perhaps the most important rules surrounded who could wear which crest. A crest is an animal, bird, fish or sometimes person and you mainly see them making up giant totempoles or adorning vests, blankets or jewellery. The main thing is each clan has certain crests that are associated with it. For example, in the Cha'atl clan (Willie's Eagle clan) their crests are Eagle, Bear, Beaver, Five-fin Killer Whale and a Raven's head. The Raven's head was not originally theirs, however. At one time their chief was visiting an friendly territory and died (not anyone's fault, I think Willie told me it was food poisoning..but I'll check that) and the Tsimshian people felt so badly that they gave that clan the right to one of their crests, the Raven head. This is how seriously these rules are regarded...a crest for a life. So basically, if I was to unknowingly give Willie a shirt with Frog on it, he would be unable to wear it. Another thing to note is, Haida society runs on a matrilineal basis...everything is passed on through the mother. The same goes for crests. A father may give his children special permission to use his crests but this permission dies with him. Therefore...I would suggest you do not get a tattoo of one of these crests! This special permission can be given to anyone, I suppose, however it is usually for a specific event or perhaps to be used when in the area, and to use the crest in another context would be disrespectful.
I was surprised to learn that face-paint was another thing that had certain meanings. I had noticed some painted faces during the Clan parade last year but I didn't think too much of it. It turns out that it does mean something! A face painted red on one side and black on the other is a right only the Cha'atl clan has. Having gills painted on one cheek is symbolic of the Dogfish but it's hard to know which clan the person is representing as it's a crest of the Ravens and Eagles. I guess it's like hearing someone's accent and knowing it sounds British, but you can't really pinpoint the area unless you have more information.
I was interested to learn that one can tell so much from a person's regalia. It takes practice to read regalia, however. Some things, especially in contemporary design, may be simply decorative. It's usually pretty easy to pick out a chief if he's wearing regalia...not everyone gets to wear a Chilkat blanket paired with a beautifully crafted headdress. I would say reading regalia is about as simple as reading a tartan. Enough said. I didn't know you could read a tartan until very recently...and it's not easy! Of course, it doesn't help that there are probably as many tartans of Scottish clans than there are people on Haida Gwaii.
This brings me to another point of the evening's discussion (there was so much information on regalia and I promise to share it...eventually!) The second half of the discussion was focused on cultural appropriation. Now, I won't go into great detail here because there was alot of information. I'll save it for another post. However, talking about "adopting" elements from another culture got me thinking. Why try and pass off an exotic culture for your own? It's one thing to love and appreciate things like food, music and art (I mean, who doesn't LOVE a good Italian meal) but it's another to steal a secret family recipe and make millions with it at a commercially run resturant. Make sense? You can take the basics and build upon them to create something new (cultural fusion) without disrespecting the culture, history and tradition. There are numerous charters and rights surrounding this issue and yet people always find ways around them. Apparently the term "Northwest Coast style art" is floating around...and it basically means that someone who non-native has used images, techniques, etc from the Northwest Coast people (could be Haida, Tsimshian, Tlingit, Nishga, Kwakwala or Salish) and replicated it as their own creation. But it's not technically stealing because it's not technically Northwest coast art...
Once you take the piece out of context and mass-produce it, it loses the magic. When you get a piece of regalia or anything really, the proper thing to do is validate it through ceremony. The most common ceremony is a potlach. These are ancient and new. They have been around as a way to pay debts, introduce children, honour chiefs, etc since the beginning of time...but in 1884 they were outlawed. Thank you, missionaries! Anyone caught having a potlach, or even attending one, was jailed. Of course, there was no validating that had to happen because their poles, regalia, chiefs, etc were outlawed too. Wow, that solves the issue of the potlach! (Please note the sarcasm...) It wasn't until the 1950s that the ban was lifted and the people could get back to paying respect and debts the old way..the proper way. So, next time you have the honour of attending a potlach or performance...think of it with this bit of history behind it. It may be cool to have First Nations art and such now...but would you still want it if it meant jail?
I also came out of the talk with numerous questions to which I am waiting a response. I also came out with a renewed sense of pride of my own "from-come" (fun term a friend once used). I will say I'm geared more towards the Scottish roots I have...I knew about the McCouls but I just recently found the connection to the "family of warriors who emigrated from Scotland" known as the MacKenzies, as well as the MacLeods. So...I intend to launch a little side-journey to this journey into my daughter's heritage and find out some pieces of my own puzzle.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Who Done It?
Sgwansing.Sding.Hlgunuhl...Haaw'a
Aon. Dha. Tri....Tapadh leat.
Did anyone understand the words above? No? Really...no one...hmm, well that's not TOO surprising. Our European ancestors tried very hard to rid the earth of such heathen languages. Thankfully, there are a few people, though very old, who have kept a tight grip on their heritage. Better yet, there are people as curious as I am who want to take on the challenge of learning a "dead" language. The opening sentances simply read: One, two, three...thank you, first in Hlgaagilda Xaayda Kil (Haida) and Gaidhlig (Gaelic).
So, what do the two languages have in common? Well...they're both super hard to spell...and to speak, haha. But there are lots of similarities between the Highlanders of Scotland and the Haida of the Canadian Northwest Coast. They were both considered savages by the Europeans. They were both exiled. They were both forbidden to speak their native language. Their artwork and music became mass produced for the outside world. Unfortunately, many of the similarities are tragic in nature. There are similarities that are lighter. Both musical styles thrive with the beat of the drum. Their traditional dress is beautiful and well-crafted (and keeps the weather out!). Both tribes had a strong social network. Both tribes boasted strong, fierce warriors. They were both highly adapted to their environments. They were both thriving, hearty tribes...until the Europeans, decided to make them into respectable members of society.
That's right...my beloved British tried to wipe out two of the greatest tribes in the world (well, that's my opinion, anyway). I guess they don't have to feel that badly about the whole thing...I mean, they weren't the first to do this kind of thing. It seems to be the nature of humans everywhere to get rid of those who are different. We are scared of that which is different. Why? Who knows...it's a silly thing to fear, really. I mean...different gives you an opportunity to learn. Are we scared to learn? Hmmm...something to think about.
Actually, forget the British...if the Church hadn't been given so much power back in the day maybe the Europeans wouldn't have been so scared of these "savages" and their "heathen" or "pagan" ways. Well, unfortunately, that's in the past. We cannot go back. We cannot fix it. We cannot apologize (I mean, really...it wasn't our generation so our apologies do not count). What we can do is stop being afraid of different. We can seek out different and learn from it. Or, for the really curious like myself, we can try and bring a piece of what's been lost back from the dust and pass it onto our kids. Learning Gaelic isn't going to win me any medals, nor is learning Haida...but I really enjoyed taking Gaelic at Saint Mary's University. It was fun, it was a challenge, and it felt right. I felt like a tiny piece of my heritage was coming through (and it is tiny...the Scottish roots are way back but they ARE there). I love the way Ciamar a tha thu rolls right off my tongue. And yes, a part of me loves being part of the very few who have the gaidhlig.
As for learning Haida..well...it'll be a challenge BUT something I learned in Gaelic class is, it's best to use what you learn as much as possible so you get used to hearing it. Well, I think I'm in the right place for that. There is a language program just down the road, and even the daycare has "Haida Time" for parents and children. And the most important thing about it is, I'm doing it for my girl.
Last evening I read an essay by Bill Reid called Haida Means Human Being from Solitary Raven:Selected Writings of Bill Reid. One paragraph really stood out, and I'd like to share it with you:
Fine, beautiful, potentially brilliant boys and girls who should be leaders,
not only in their own small communities, but in the wider world as well,
are wandering confused and undirected from meaningless episode to
meaningless episode of their meaningless lives. (p.143)
Here he was referring to the kids growing up in the new world, a place void of the old ways, a place without the importance placed upon learning the culture, traditions, language, etc. The old societies, whether Gaelic or Haida or whatever, seemed to have it right...you only have to look in the newspaper to see the results of the new ways. I do not want my girl to grow up feeling as if a piece of her is missing, wandering around confused, trying to find her way back I'll be able to give her a proper headstart, inshallah.
Aon. Dha. Tri....Tapadh leat.
Did anyone understand the words above? No? Really...no one...hmm, well that's not TOO surprising. Our European ancestors tried very hard to rid the earth of such heathen languages. Thankfully, there are a few people, though very old, who have kept a tight grip on their heritage. Better yet, there are people as curious as I am who want to take on the challenge of learning a "dead" language. The opening sentances simply read: One, two, three...thank you, first in Hlgaagilda Xaayda Kil (Haida) and Gaidhlig (Gaelic).
So, what do the two languages have in common? Well...they're both super hard to spell...and to speak, haha. But there are lots of similarities between the Highlanders of Scotland and the Haida of the Canadian Northwest Coast. They were both considered savages by the Europeans. They were both exiled. They were both forbidden to speak their native language. Their artwork and music became mass produced for the outside world. Unfortunately, many of the similarities are tragic in nature. There are similarities that are lighter. Both musical styles thrive with the beat of the drum. Their traditional dress is beautiful and well-crafted (and keeps the weather out!). Both tribes had a strong social network. Both tribes boasted strong, fierce warriors. They were both highly adapted to their environments. They were both thriving, hearty tribes...until the Europeans, decided to make them into respectable members of society.
That's right...my beloved British tried to wipe out two of the greatest tribes in the world (well, that's my opinion, anyway). I guess they don't have to feel that badly about the whole thing...I mean, they weren't the first to do this kind of thing. It seems to be the nature of humans everywhere to get rid of those who are different. We are scared of that which is different. Why? Who knows...it's a silly thing to fear, really. I mean...different gives you an opportunity to learn. Are we scared to learn? Hmmm...something to think about.
Actually, forget the British...if the Church hadn't been given so much power back in the day maybe the Europeans wouldn't have been so scared of these "savages" and their "heathen" or "pagan" ways. Well, unfortunately, that's in the past. We cannot go back. We cannot fix it. We cannot apologize (I mean, really...it wasn't our generation so our apologies do not count). What we can do is stop being afraid of different. We can seek out different and learn from it. Or, for the really curious like myself, we can try and bring a piece of what's been lost back from the dust and pass it onto our kids. Learning Gaelic isn't going to win me any medals, nor is learning Haida...but I really enjoyed taking Gaelic at Saint Mary's University. It was fun, it was a challenge, and it felt right. I felt like a tiny piece of my heritage was coming through (and it is tiny...the Scottish roots are way back but they ARE there). I love the way Ciamar a tha thu rolls right off my tongue. And yes, a part of me loves being part of the very few who have the gaidhlig.
As for learning Haida..well...it'll be a challenge BUT something I learned in Gaelic class is, it's best to use what you learn as much as possible so you get used to hearing it. Well, I think I'm in the right place for that. There is a language program just down the road, and even the daycare has "Haida Time" for parents and children. And the most important thing about it is, I'm doing it for my girl.
Last evening I read an essay by Bill Reid called Haida Means Human Being from Solitary Raven:Selected Writings of Bill Reid. One paragraph really stood out, and I'd like to share it with you:
Fine, beautiful, potentially brilliant boys and girls who should be leaders,
not only in their own small communities, but in the wider world as well,
are wandering confused and undirected from meaningless episode to
meaningless episode of their meaningless lives. (p.143)
Here he was referring to the kids growing up in the new world, a place void of the old ways, a place without the importance placed upon learning the culture, traditions, language, etc. The old societies, whether Gaelic or Haida or whatever, seemed to have it right...you only have to look in the newspaper to see the results of the new ways. I do not want my girl to grow up feeling as if a piece of her is missing, wandering around confused, trying to find her way back I'll be able to give her a proper headstart, inshallah.
Rain, Rain, Go Away...
Saturday on Haida Gwaii: Rain....
From 6am (possibly earlier...it was storming when Noora first woke up) until 7:30pm or so...steady, heavy rain with big gusts of wind. I'm not talking about a light shower, or even heavy rain (well, according to Nova Scotia weather)...this was completely different. When it rains on Haida Gwaii....boy, oh boy does it rain. In Nova Scotia we know how to do snow...here, they know how to do rain, and they do it well! It still blows my mind. Oh, and when it DOES stop..it stops. Done. Over. Like it never happened. I noticed an odd silence this evening and, sure enough, upon looking out the window...blue skies, clouds, and a slight breeze. Now...you might think that's how all storms go..they start, get worse, taper off, and end. The storms on this island don't waste their time. They show up loud and proud, and when they're done...they leave, unannounced. Haha, sounds like Willie's family (although I much prefer them to storms).
Lucky for us, we have a glorious wood stove in our new place. It sure had it's work cut out for it today. I'm actually quite glad we let it burn out for the night...I was starting to wish I was outside! Wow, it gets hot! Another good thing about the storm...it brought the kitties inside! Ha...they finally gave up their pride and came inside! AND I got to snuggle with all three of them; Pig, Puss and Smeagol (interesting names...I may petition for Puss and Smeagol to switch names...Smeagol isn't the shifty character her name portrays). We also had Willie's mom and nephew come by and hang out in their pyjamas. Later in the afternoon, Willie's sister came over and we had a good visit..again, in pyjamas. All in all, a very lazy day.
Well, lazy for us...the storm apparently still had energy to burn because around 8:30pm it started back up. Now, at 1am it's still going strong. The fire is burning out slowly. The kitties are all asleep. The dishes are done. And everyone is asleep but me....hopefully the rain and wind will lull me to sleep...
...
....
......
Good night!
*********
UPDATE: This blog was originally going to be posted late Saturday evening...but I ran into MORE technical difficulties. Maybe this house is just cursed, who knows. Saturday my poor laptop, the senior citizen she is, decided to slip into a coma and she will not come out...it's now Monday and the computer shop isn't open..yay for small towns, right? Well...Willie felt bad about the laptop (he was the last to touch her...something about downloading an anti-virus program? Whatever it was, was too much for her to handle), so he asked for his sister's desktop (which they do not use because they can't seem to get the internet to work at her place). After lugging the monstrosity to our house, we set it up, and I, the computer genius that I am on occasion, got the internet working. YAY!
Well....it froze around 1am and upon turning it on Sunday...it was prompting for a system disc in order to finish booting up. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I've just about had it with computers right now. Willie's sister didn't have a disc because she got the computer second-hand...and I'm pretty sure it has Windows 98 or 2000...so we couldn't track down a disc. I spent the day reading and doing research instead.
Monday morning, Willie's sister comes by. We told her what had happened and she said there was another tower at her house. We lug the even bigger monstrosity down to our house and hook it up...the mouse doesn't work and neither does the internet. So, my computer genius kicks in again, and BAM! Internet is up and running. I started this update using keyboard commands to open, scroll and click but Willie came to my rescue with the mouse from his mom's place. Temporary fix, as I'm sure someone will be missing it later on today...but at least I'll get a few posts in before that happens.
Sorry for the posting delays...I'll try and make it up today!! Cheers :)
From 6am (possibly earlier...it was storming when Noora first woke up) until 7:30pm or so...steady, heavy rain with big gusts of wind. I'm not talking about a light shower, or even heavy rain (well, according to Nova Scotia weather)...this was completely different. When it rains on Haida Gwaii....boy, oh boy does it rain. In Nova Scotia we know how to do snow...here, they know how to do rain, and they do it well! It still blows my mind. Oh, and when it DOES stop..it stops. Done. Over. Like it never happened. I noticed an odd silence this evening and, sure enough, upon looking out the window...blue skies, clouds, and a slight breeze. Now...you might think that's how all storms go..they start, get worse, taper off, and end. The storms on this island don't waste their time. They show up loud and proud, and when they're done...they leave, unannounced. Haha, sounds like Willie's family (although I much prefer them to storms).
Lucky for us, we have a glorious wood stove in our new place. It sure had it's work cut out for it today. I'm actually quite glad we let it burn out for the night...I was starting to wish I was outside! Wow, it gets hot! Another good thing about the storm...it brought the kitties inside! Ha...they finally gave up their pride and came inside! AND I got to snuggle with all three of them; Pig, Puss and Smeagol (interesting names...I may petition for Puss and Smeagol to switch names...Smeagol isn't the shifty character her name portrays). We also had Willie's mom and nephew come by and hang out in their pyjamas. Later in the afternoon, Willie's sister came over and we had a good visit..again, in pyjamas. All in all, a very lazy day.
Well, lazy for us...the storm apparently still had energy to burn because around 8:30pm it started back up. Now, at 1am it's still going strong. The fire is burning out slowly. The kitties are all asleep. The dishes are done. And everyone is asleep but me....hopefully the rain and wind will lull me to sleep...
...
....
......
Good night!
*********
UPDATE: This blog was originally going to be posted late Saturday evening...but I ran into MORE technical difficulties. Maybe this house is just cursed, who knows. Saturday my poor laptop, the senior citizen she is, decided to slip into a coma and she will not come out...it's now Monday and the computer shop isn't open..yay for small towns, right? Well...Willie felt bad about the laptop (he was the last to touch her...something about downloading an anti-virus program? Whatever it was, was too much for her to handle), so he asked for his sister's desktop (which they do not use because they can't seem to get the internet to work at her place). After lugging the monstrosity to our house, we set it up, and I, the computer genius that I am on occasion, got the internet working. YAY!
Well....it froze around 1am and upon turning it on Sunday...it was prompting for a system disc in order to finish booting up. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I've just about had it with computers right now. Willie's sister didn't have a disc because she got the computer second-hand...and I'm pretty sure it has Windows 98 or 2000...so we couldn't track down a disc. I spent the day reading and doing research instead.
Monday morning, Willie's sister comes by. We told her what had happened and she said there was another tower at her house. We lug the even bigger monstrosity down to our house and hook it up...the mouse doesn't work and neither does the internet. So, my computer genius kicks in again, and BAM! Internet is up and running. I started this update using keyboard commands to open, scroll and click but Willie came to my rescue with the mouse from his mom's place. Temporary fix, as I'm sure someone will be missing it later on today...but at least I'll get a few posts in before that happens.
Sorry for the posting delays...I'll try and make it up today!! Cheers :)
Friday, September 10, 2010
Face in the Fire
Do any of you believe in signs? I do. I believe we are shown signs for many reasons but especially if we're not quite on the path we're meant to be on. As I stated in the previous post, I believe I'm a healer. It's not only something that interests me, it's something I've been doing for many years. I remember my grandmother saying I should be a nurse because I'm so good with old folk like her, and I really care. Come to think of it, my other grandmother said something along the same lines because I was always helping her out when she wasn't well or had broken her wrist. I remember reading somewhere that the things that come natural to some are skills and gifts others only wish they had. I thought taking care of someone, especially an elder or child, was just something you did. But it turns out that many people don't have that 'gift'. I can think of several people who would rather jump out a window than take care of someone dying of cancer (and yes, I have done that as well). I'm not saying you're a better person for not wanting to jump out that window...I'm just saying it didn't occur to me that it was an option.
But back to the signs. I've had the personal experiences such as taking care of my grandmothers or the lady with cancer or a few sick kids, but I never thought anything of it. Over the past few years, I have become more interested in medicine and healing. Since I made a concious decision to learn some stuff, I find I've been shown different things that may help on my journey.
For example, I attended a meeting about nutrition in First Nations communities last fall and, thanks to a door prize, went home with a book called Plants and Medicines of Sophie Thomas, a Sai'Kuz Elder and Healer. I also met and became friends with my neighbour, Anne, who was very much into natural remedies and home-grown foods, etc. It was through her I acquired a book called Wise Woman, Herbal for the Childbearing Year by Susun S. Weed. More recently, I attended the Chief Membertou Powwow in Halifax, NS and became the proud owner of a beautifully beaded medicine pouch (I had gone to the booth to look at the bear grease because I knew you could use it to make ointments...stinky, but effective). I also came across a program called Medicine Woman on Vision TV, where a young Canadian doctor travels around the globe in search of traditional medicines used by different cultures (http://www.visiontv.ca/Media/Releases/medicine_woman_aug15.html). Through one of these episodes, I found out about a book called Coyote Healing by Lewis Mehl-Madrona which deals with Native American traditional medicines. I have not found a copy of the book but I know it will come when I'm ready to read it.
One of the weirdest things that has happened occured last Friday evening. I was sitting in the living room with Willie's cousin, relaxing while she was on the computer. I glanced over at the wood stove to see if more wood was needed and I saw a face staring out of the glass. I looked away and looked back to see if it was still there. Yup...CREEPY. I asked Kristy if she saw the face....she didn't...great, now I'm going crazy! She kept looking but she didn't see it. I said I would draw what I saw and THEN maybe she'd see it. I took a few moments and did a pretty detailed sketch of the face peering out of the flames, then I handed it to her. "Oh my God, it's a shaman", was her reply. My eyes just got huge and I made her say it again. Ha....now I KNOW I'm going crazy. What on earth was a shaman doing in my fire?? The nerve. She drew what she saw...it wasn't the face...it looked like a bird's head...I looked into the fire again...yup, he's still there. I asked her if it was a good or bad sign to see a shaman in the fire..she didn't know. Hmm, it didn't feel like a bad thing...I didn't feel creeped out (well, after the intial shock), so I decided it was just another sign.
I've asked a few other people their thoughts on the visitor but noone seemed alarmed. I guess he just wanted to let me know I was off-course and needed to get back to my journey. I think moving across country and being a first-time Mom is good reason to get off-track...but I'll do my best to learn and incoporate the old ways into my life. The onions were a good start!
But back to the signs. I've had the personal experiences such as taking care of my grandmothers or the lady with cancer or a few sick kids, but I never thought anything of it. Over the past few years, I have become more interested in medicine and healing. Since I made a concious decision to learn some stuff, I find I've been shown different things that may help on my journey.
For example, I attended a meeting about nutrition in First Nations communities last fall and, thanks to a door prize, went home with a book called Plants and Medicines of Sophie Thomas, a Sai'Kuz Elder and Healer. I also met and became friends with my neighbour, Anne, who was very much into natural remedies and home-grown foods, etc. It was through her I acquired a book called Wise Woman, Herbal for the Childbearing Year by Susun S. Weed. More recently, I attended the Chief Membertou Powwow in Halifax, NS and became the proud owner of a beautifully beaded medicine pouch (I had gone to the booth to look at the bear grease because I knew you could use it to make ointments...stinky, but effective). I also came across a program called Medicine Woman on Vision TV, where a young Canadian doctor travels around the globe in search of traditional medicines used by different cultures (http://www.visiontv.ca/Media/Releases/medicine_woman_aug15.html). Through one of these episodes, I found out about a book called Coyote Healing by Lewis Mehl-Madrona which deals with Native American traditional medicines. I have not found a copy of the book but I know it will come when I'm ready to read it.
One of the weirdest things that has happened occured last Friday evening. I was sitting in the living room with Willie's cousin, relaxing while she was on the computer. I glanced over at the wood stove to see if more wood was needed and I saw a face staring out of the glass. I looked away and looked back to see if it was still there. Yup...CREEPY. I asked Kristy if she saw the face....she didn't...great, now I'm going crazy! She kept looking but she didn't see it. I said I would draw what I saw and THEN maybe she'd see it. I took a few moments and did a pretty detailed sketch of the face peering out of the flames, then I handed it to her. "Oh my God, it's a shaman", was her reply. My eyes just got huge and I made her say it again. Ha....now I KNOW I'm going crazy. What on earth was a shaman doing in my fire?? The nerve. She drew what she saw...it wasn't the face...it looked like a bird's head...I looked into the fire again...yup, he's still there. I asked her if it was a good or bad sign to see a shaman in the fire..she didn't know. Hmm, it didn't feel like a bad thing...I didn't feel creeped out (well, after the intial shock), so I decided it was just another sign.
I've asked a few other people their thoughts on the visitor but noone seemed alarmed. I guess he just wanted to let me know I was off-course and needed to get back to my journey. I think moving across country and being a first-time Mom is good reason to get off-track...but I'll do my best to learn and incoporate the old ways into my life. The onions were a good start!
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| Haida Shaman Mask, http://firstpeoplesofcanada.com/fp_groups/fp_nwc5.html |
The Medicine Men (and Women)
A Short History of Medicine
2000 B.C. - "Here, eat this root."
1000 B.C. - "That root is heathen, say this prayer."
1850 A.D. - "That prayer is superstition, drink this potion."
1940 A.D. - "That potion is snake oil, swallow this pill."
1985 A.D. - "That pill is ineffective, take this antibiotic."
2000 A.D. - "That antibiotic is artificial. Here, eat this root."
~Author Unknown
1000 B.C. - "That root is heathen, say this prayer."
1850 A.D. - "That prayer is superstition, drink this potion."
1940 A.D. - "That potion is snake oil, swallow this pill."
1985 A.D. - "That pill is ineffective, take this antibiotic."
2000 A.D. - "That antibiotic is artificial. Here, eat this root."
~Author Unknown
This quote sums up my previous post quite well. Medicine and healing follows the old adage that everything old is new again...like neon colours and skin-tight jeans. One of the best pieces of advice I have heard, though related to food, can be applied to medicine; if your great-great grandmother wouldn't recognize it, don't buy it! I often ignore this advice when I have a horrible migraine and convince myself that my great-great grandmother MUST have been a smart lady and would jump at the chance to pop a few liquid gel caps instead of finding a willow tree, stripping some bark, and then steeping it into tea. But who knows...
We're going back to the earth....and I bet the earth is chuckling to itself. It's about time, really. In some ways modern medicine is indispensable. We have the tools now to fight things like lukemia, tuberculosis, scarlet fever, small pox, etc, that have killed numerous people in our past. I'm always shocked to read about people dying from things we don't even think about now. I mean, there are vaccines for EVERYTHING. Although, if you are faced with a serious illness like scarlet fever, for example, you may forget that our modern doctors have it covered. I shall share my somewhat embarassing reaction to waking up with scarlet fever; I'M GOING TO GO BLIND and....I burst into tears. I cried, yet again, in the doctor's office....she laughed. She then kindly reminded me that a round of antibiotics (friendly pink ones) would clear it up in no time AND I wouldn't go blind. Well, I knew how Mary Ingalls got on with her results. But I trusted that I wouldn't be needing a seeing-eye dog anytime soon. I reassured myself of this again, when the scarlet fever came back for a second round. Hmph! Really....who on earth gets scarlet fever in the 21st century...TWICE?
I can say I've been pretty lucky in terms of my health. My immune system is pretty hardy and even if I do get sick, I tend to recover quickly. This proved to be helpful last winter when I was the lucky recipient of the H1N1 flu. Even while pregnant, I fought off the nasty thing with 2 Tylenol, lots of ginger ale...and the occasional whining...well, you didn't expect me to smile through it, I hope!
So all of this rambling leads me to the subject of my latest research. The shaman, or medicine man. I feel a strong connection to the men, and women, who took their healing talents to the highest level possible. I have been told many times that I am a healer. A lady who did my tarot cards (and was VERY accurate, I might add) said that I have been a healer for many lifetimes, that at one point I was responsible for tending to the bodies of those who had left this earth. Well, that all makes sense...I'm probably the only person who can say they went to a morgue for FUN...and enjoyed it. No, I'm not morbid...I'm just fascinated with the human body, how it works, and what happens when it stops working. It's this fascination that has gradually led me onto the path of healing. Now, I'm not saying I'm in the same category as the shaman, but I do believe I'm meant to build upon what comes natural to me.
There have been shaman in many cultures as far back as the ancient Greeks. Many times these people are intertwined with pagan rituals, and are looked down upon by many religions. I am most interested in the medicine men and women of North America, mostly because I live here. The plants and herbs that have been used to heal in the past by these folk are the ones I can go hunt down where I live. Makes sense, huh? I've also started to realize the notion that whatever you're looking for is right under your nose, is true. And, seeing as this blog is to meant to get me more acquainted with Haida culture, I'll focus on the Haida shamans.
Thanks to Google, and a quick conversation with Albert Hans (employee at the Haida Heritage center), I have come up with a little list of facts about these men, and women.
- They lived alone, often secluded in the woods and away from the villages.
- They did not have sex
- They were often richer than the village chiefs
- Some received Chilkat blankets for healing important people, such as a chief
 |
| Chilkat Blanket, pre-1870, http://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.com/index.cfm?PgNm=TCE&Params=a1ARTA0001582 |
- They could be male or female. The male shaman, while curing the sick, would ensure good hunting and fishing, keep storms at bay and influence the outcome of war. The female shaman would have a bigger role in childbirth and things of that nature, while also curing the sick.
- There were a few types of shaman. Some were mainly healers, some took on roles similar to a high priest, some were seers, etc.
- Some shaman healed a person entering their body as a spirit and drawing out the disease or demon, while some were seen more of medicine men/women who used plants and herbs to cure their patients
- Being a shaman isn't something you can go to school for, necessarily. The knowledge and helping spirits were usually passed down from one's uncle or you were chosen after defeating a great illness (hmm..does scarlet fever count?). I found a great description of this by John R. Swanton, anthropologist.
A shaman was one who had power from some supernatural being (sga'na) who "possessed" him, or who chose him as the medium through which to make his existence felt in the world of men. When the spirit was present, the shaman's own identity was practically abolished. For the time he was the supernatural being himself. So the shaman must dress as the spirit directed him, and, when the spirit was present, spoke in the latter's own language . . . The calling of a shaman was generally hereditary in his family, the order being usually from maternal uncle to nephew. Before he died he revealed his spirits to his successor, who might start with a comparatively feeble spirit and acquire stronger and stronger ones. (http://www.angelfire.com/ca/janechaos/haidapaper.html)
- The term shaman is interchangeable with "witch doctor", "seer", and "medicine man".
- The crests and animals associated with the Haida shaman tend to be ones of the sea, like the killer whale, the octopus, the halibut and the puffin (diving birds that could go to another realm beneath the sea) (http://www.civilization.ca/cmc/exhibitions/aborig/haida/haash05e.shtml)
- The 'tools' of the Shaman were individual and were often buried with the person instead of being passed down.
These are only a few facts, I'm sure, but I have only just begun. I am full of curiousity and am especially interested in these medicine men and women. If you know any more facts, have any recommended reading, or any thoughts, please let me know. The point of the blog is to learn and share with others!Picture of Haida Shaman wearing a Chilkat blanket and two wearing masks, which was rare. For more information on the picture, go to
http://www.vanishingtattoo.com/haida_tattoo_1.htm .
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
A Mother's Touch
The art of medicine consists of amusing the patient while nature cures the disease.
- Voltaire
The art of healing comes from nature, not from the physician.
Therefore the physician must start from nature, with an open mind.
-- Philipus Aureolus Paracelsus This post is, again, late because Noora has been battling her first cold which has now turned into mostly a fever. The poor little thing is so miserable. She's quite cute when she's miserable, so it's not a bad thing to be playing nurse. I think she and I both had a bout of West Coast sniffles on Saturday and Sunday, as well. However, her fever is looking to be a sign of teething. So, babies and fevers...no big deal, right? Some Tylenol, some cuddling and BAM! cured. Right? No....
Yesterday was not only fever day, but Labour Day. Holiday. Store and pharmacy deciding not to be open day. No worries...a responsible parent would have made sure to pack the Tylenol when we moved. And, I'll have you know, I DID pack the Tylenol....however, the yummy liquid 'white grape' stuff is sitting in a drawer in Nova Scotia. *sigh* So...what's a Mom to do?
...I could crush up a tiny bit of regular Tylenol...nope...I'm not chemist and have no way of measuring the dosage...
.....
......I could keep her in the bathtub all day....yes, that might work....hmmm, a fussy, pruney baby isn't really a good idea....
.............
.....think, think, think.......someone must have some, this place is full of kids.....only problem is, I can't think of anyone with a baby right now....even if I do think of someone, where on earth did I put the phone book....
...OH, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD....*light bulb goes on*
...
Hmmm, when we were in Vancouver, for what reason I have no clue, Carol told me how to lower a fever using onions. Ok....you mince up the onions, then put them on the soles of the feet, wrap with plastic and put inside socks/slippers and leave for about an hour. She said it had worked for her husband. Hmm, does it work for babies? Well...let's give 'er a try. No harm in that, and if it doesn't work, well, I suppose we'll have minced onions to put in dinner tonight.
Have any of you tried this? I can tell you, it's ALOT messier than giving a baby Tylenol. Geez. Getting her feet in, wrapped up, and into socks was no problem. I sat on the couch with her and she had a little snack. *sniff sniff* Hmm, I smelled onions....my eyes began to water....oh, come on!!! She had been moving her feet and the plastic wrap came undone and onion juice was oozing out of her socks onto my leg. Just wonderful...but, it'll come out in the wash. I checked her temperature and it had stayed the same. Good.
....checked it again, it went up a tiny bit but that's ok...up before down...I think.
..........an hour had passed and she still wasn't feeling the greatest. I checked it again and it was 39.3C...ugh, these stupid onions aren't working. So I sent Willie off to the convenience store in Charlotte to hunt down some baby Tylenol or something. I took off her VERY aromatic socks and popped the little thing into the sink for bath # 2. She was happily splashing away in the lukewarm bubbles, so I checked her temperature again...39C..hmmm, had the onions done their job? Maybe I hadn't given them enough time...hmm, Noora was seeming to cheer up...maybe the trick was adding the bath. Huh! Take that, fever.
Willie returned after a while with some Advil but I had to improvise with the dropper from her Vitamin D because it wasn't "infant" Advil...I gave her 1ml JUST to let the fever know that I was now fully equipped to kick it's ass. *sigh* Crisis over. Wow...I was kinda impressed with the common onion. I Googled it to make sure it hadn't just been some quack method but nope...it seemed that minced onion or potato worked, garlic paste or even washcloths soaked in egg whites would do the trick. I'm always so surprised when 'natural medicine' works just as well, sometimes better, than 'conventional medicine'.
I will say conventional medicine may be less messy, easier to administer and probably tastier (I've seen some nasty ingredients in natural remedies...ick) but if you don't have access to it and you or your child is in pain or sick...I vote natural. Natural is how it's always been...we used to be such a big part of the earth, and now we view it as something we merely walk upon. A tiny chunk of onion has renewed my faith in the earth's healing powers and I intend to learn more ways to heal, with the earth's blessing.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Eating My Words....Literally!
Do you remember me saying, "I don't like fish"? Well, I can sum up the past few days with the following phrases: 'Finding Nemo' and Fat Bastard's 'Get in my Belly!'. Honestly...I have eaten more fish Thursday and Friday than I have in my entire life. I'm not sure how I escaped it the first time 'round on Haida Gwaii. The land of fish and seafood. And get this...I LIKED it....I really did!
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| 'Haida Gwaii Salmon' by Alvin Child, c.2006, www.pathgallery.com |
Thursday, September 2, 2010: Welcome Home Lunch at my in-laws house. Menu: FISH.
One thing you should all know is that here, on Haida Gwaii and in Skidegate, especially, food is what keeps people together. Lots and lots of food. And this was not just food...oh no, this was food prepared by the ladies of the Cha'atl clan (Willie's clan). I bet they'd even blow Gordon Ramsey's socks off!
Now, I tried a different approach to fish this time. I used the phrase "it'll be good for my blog" as my mantra. There was lots to choose from but I settled on a fish sandwich (instead of my usual tuna and mayo, it was canned salmon and mayo), a big bowl of clam chowder (first time having clams...I was terrified), baking powder biscuit and some jum (Halibut stew with onion and potato). I was shocked...the fish sandwich was really good...even better than my usual tuna sandwich. Huh, who'd have thought! I can see now why Willie doesn't like canned tuna...this salmon was a hard act to follow.
Next up...the clam chowder. It wasn't the usual creamy chowder you see at resturants or in a can..but it was in a clear broth with some vegetables. I think I may have preferred the cream base as it would make it harder for me to pick apart what I was about to eat. My first reaction...it looked like miniature pig snouts were floating in my soup. ICK!!!!!! I closed my eyes and opened my mouth....in it went....I let it linger for a moment before I tenatively chewed it with my back teeth (the closer to swallowing, the safer I was). Hmm....chewy...not overwhelmingly fishy, but distinct. Wow...really chewy...but not gross like the calamari I had at East Side Marios a few years ago. Okay...this is doable. I swallowed, smirked with satisfaction and took another big bite. WHAT THE HELL??? This bite was spongy...and upon spitting it out to examine my spoon's contents before proceeding, I noticed it had spots. I asked Willie's cousin what I was eating..she said to quit looking at it, that it was still clams, and to eat the soup. So, I did. I kept up the careful monitoring of my spoon as I finished the soup but it was pretty good. Wow....I was on a roll!
Willie brought my a bowl of jum and I dug in (ha...good thing we came hungry...every family event is like a giant feast). I think this one was my favourite. I'm a fan of potatoes and onions anyway (probably why I'm such a big fan of corn chowder) but the halibut was SO tasty. I chomped on a big chunk of it and smiled. This was the first fish I had when I came to the island last year. I had been so scared to eat it but had enjoyed it immensely. Instead of throwing it down the hatch as I had done then, I savoured each bite of my halibut stew. I could taste the delicate flavour of the fish, the strong kick from the black pepper, and the fresh ocean saltiness from the seaweed. Yum. In fact, it was so good, we had the leftovers for lunch on Friday.
Friday, September 3, 2010: Regular Day. Menu: More Fish...
One thing about living next door to Nuni and Chinni is, they know when you're up and about. We had had an exhausting day of travelling and introducing Noora to family and a nice long sleep to finish it off. We had planned to take it easy and relax Friday morning, maybe even unpack some things. Nope...as we were feeding the cats we heard "Oh, you're up are you?" from the bushes. Willie's mom was outside and wanted to see baby Noora haha. So, we packed her up and headed over for some coffee in our pyjamas. Well, coffee turned into breakfast...what was for breakfast? Jilgi....salmon jerky. Haha...good thing I have this blog or I may have opted for only toast. It was really good, though. I savoured my first bite and enjoyed being able to taste the wood smoke in the fish. Actually, there wasn't much fishy taste to it...it was just tasty. Noora really enjoyed it after I chewed it back into a hydrated mush. She ate so much I had to get another piece. Three pieces in total went down the hatch. We then followed it up with some toast. Wow...I didn't think I'd be having fish for breakfast but it was a very satisfying way to start the day. I kept the fish ball rolling and indulged in leftover jum for lunch with a baking powder biscuit. Ahhh.......so good.
I had planned to make pasta and italian sausage for dinner but instead we went next door and had MORE fish. It was Willie's cousin's going-away party and, you guessed it, was another family feast..catered by the Cha'atl women again. This time I had a BIG chunk of Coho salmon which had been caught earlier that day by Willie's young cousin (very big accomplishment for a little guy). Other than the bones that snuck up on you, it was VERY tasty. It was so vibrant in colour and flaky and moist...my mouth was watering. I couldn't believe it! What is wrong with me...what's happening to the girl who hated fish????? I enjoyed some chow-mein, Ichiban salad (another thing I had never heard of until I came here last year), chicken wings, potato salad and....
.....
Fish Eggs...
Yup. This is where Finding Nemo really comes in. All I could think about was the scene at the beginning when Nemo and his siblings are all in their eggs. I ate Nemo. Ha...okay, they weren't clownfish eggs....but still. It took me a minute to get over the image in my head. So...my thoughts. Well? It was edible bubblewrap, basically. I chomped down and all I felt was 'pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop' and on and on. Each bite brought more popping...I chewed until I thought there couldn't possibly be any more popping...and there was. Ewwww.......it was the feeling of this more than the taste that got to me. They didn't taste bad...just had a strong 'fish' taste. They weren't nearly as salty as I remembered (I had tried dried fish eggs last year...against my will, haha) but these were dried onto seaweed...which could explain the ungodly saltiness. Did I mention I'm not a fan of salt? Hmmm...well...all in all...it wasn't bad. I'm not sure it's something I'll run to the table and fight over, but I didn't hate it either. I'll stick to full grown fish from now on, I think.
So...I've definitely upped my Omega-3 levels and I feel good about that. I also beat my "it's fish and I hate it" attitude. I tried something new AND enjoyed it. Willie's quite proud of me, too. We'll see if he's as happy when I start picking away at his ration of peppered salmon, muahahahaha.
From Coast to Coast
First, I would like to apologize for not posting anything this week. It's been a crazy time with all of the preparations, last-minute packing, stop-overs and celebrations. We're really sad that we had to leave Nova Scotia with all of my family and friends but really excited for Noora to meet the other half of her family and experience Haida Gwaii, British Columbia. This is just a brief account of our adventure to the island.
Well, after a LONG flight from Halifax to Vancouver, our little family was almost home. I had been anxious about Noora's reaction to being on a plane, but as always, she was wonderful. She ate during take-off and then slept for the majority of the flight to Toronto. We only had to wait 40 minutes until we were hustled onto the plane to Vancouver. Again, she ate during take-off and the proceeded to sleep.
She stole the hearts of everyone who met her, as usual. The flight attendants were especially taken with her on our way to Vancouver; one in particular. She took very good care of us and offered us a spot at the back so we could have 3 seats together instead of being cramped into our original 2. It was awesome. Noora slept, played and sat in her very own seat while Mommy and Daddy watched movies. It was heaven compared to what people had prepared me to expect. Screaming babies on a plane? Non-existent on Flight AC063!! She made friends with two little girls in front of us. She flirted with their father. She enjoyed Shrek 3 without the audio. Overall, she quite enjoyed her journey. A very stress-free trip to end a very stressful few weeks of decisions and preparations.
We landed in Vancouver exhausted but excited. It was so weird to see the mountains in the distance. The air smelled different (mostly city fumes...but with a hint of West Coast fresh air). Instead of catching a flight directly from the airport, we were spending the night with Willie's cousin, Carol and then heading to Sandspit the next morning. She and her son picked us up and off we went, through the big city. My first time "in Vancouver".
I'm not a city girl....
All I could think was EWWWWWWWW!!Vancouver is HUGE! Thankfully, we were not in rush-hour traffic, but it still seemed really busy on the highways. And the drivers are not nearly as considerate as in Nova Scotia....I got a wonderful welcome to Vancouver when two drivers blared their horns and shook their fists at us (still not sure why...).I'm only accustomed to using the horn when there's an animal tempting fate or someone is making a stupid move like passing in a no-passing zone into oncoming traffic (true story...but that was in NB, not NS). Oh, city drivers...*shakes head in despair*. Well, apparently not. Oh well, we were leaving early morning to catch the last lodge flight to Sandspit (Haaw'a to the Skidegate Band Council for arranging the flight for the three of us!).We had alot of fun with Carol and her son, and some really great food too. Who knew grilled corn would be SO tasty?! The time difference was so draining but we managed. Up the next morning at 5am and at the airport for 6:30am. Gross....but this was the last part of our journey.
At the airport, we met a few other people Willie knew who were travelling back to the island. We had some good conversations about some serious things affecting people on the island. Unfortunately, we didn't come up with many answers. It's always nice to know you're not the only one though. It was really refreshing to see others FROM the area who had the same concerns I had...I thought my opinions would make me an outsider but I realize from talking with them (and Willie) that this is not the case.
As we boarded the plane to Sandspit, I took a deep breath and let it out. This time things felt different. Better. This time it was all about choices, not limitations. Sure there would be challenges but why let those outshine all the fun we could have.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Well, after a LONG flight from Halifax to Vancouver, our little family was almost home. I had been anxious about Noora's reaction to being on a plane, but as always, she was wonderful. She ate during take-off and then slept for the majority of the flight to Toronto. We only had to wait 40 minutes until we were hustled onto the plane to Vancouver. Again, she ate during take-off and the proceeded to sleep.
She stole the hearts of everyone who met her, as usual. The flight attendants were especially taken with her on our way to Vancouver; one in particular. She took very good care of us and offered us a spot at the back so we could have 3 seats together instead of being cramped into our original 2. It was awesome. Noora slept, played and sat in her very own seat while Mommy and Daddy watched movies. It was heaven compared to what people had prepared me to expect. Screaming babies on a plane? Non-existent on Flight AC063!! She made friends with two little girls in front of us. She flirted with their father. She enjoyed Shrek 3 without the audio. Overall, she quite enjoyed her journey. A very stress-free trip to end a very stressful few weeks of decisions and preparations.
We landed in Vancouver exhausted but excited. It was so weird to see the mountains in the distance. The air smelled different (mostly city fumes...but with a hint of West Coast fresh air). Instead of catching a flight directly from the airport, we were spending the night with Willie's cousin, Carol and then heading to Sandspit the next morning. She and her son picked us up and off we went, through the big city. My first time "in Vancouver".
I'm not a city girl....
All I could think was EWWWWWWWW!!Vancouver is HUGE! Thankfully, we were not in rush-hour traffic, but it still seemed really busy on the highways. And the drivers are not nearly as considerate as in Nova Scotia....I got a wonderful welcome to Vancouver when two drivers blared their horns and shook their fists at us (still not sure why...).I'm only accustomed to using the horn when there's an animal tempting fate or someone is making a stupid move like passing in a no-passing zone into oncoming traffic (true story...but that was in NB, not NS). Oh, city drivers...*shakes head in despair*. Well, apparently not. Oh well, we were leaving early morning to catch the last lodge flight to Sandspit (Haaw'a to the Skidegate Band Council for arranging the flight for the three of us!).We had alot of fun with Carol and her son, and some really great food too. Who knew grilled corn would be SO tasty?! The time difference was so draining but we managed. Up the next morning at 5am and at the airport for 6:30am. Gross....but this was the last part of our journey.
At the airport, we met a few other people Willie knew who were travelling back to the island. We had some good conversations about some serious things affecting people on the island. Unfortunately, we didn't come up with many answers. It's always nice to know you're not the only one though. It was really refreshing to see others FROM the area who had the same concerns I had...I thought my opinions would make me an outsider but I realize from talking with them (and Willie) that this is not the case.
As we boarded the plane to Sandspit, I took a deep breath and let it out. This time things felt different. Better. This time it was all about choices, not limitations. Sure there would be challenges but why let those outshine all the fun we could have.
The wheels left the ground and my heart felt light.
We were on our way home.
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