Ancient Times

I recently attended a day-long educational aboriginal symposium in Saskatoon.  After a variety of speakers and a delicious lunch, the group of attendees was taken mid afternoon to the north end of the city.  We travelled by bus, past the outskirts another five kilometers to Wanuskewin Heritage Park. 

Please feel free to visit their website at www.wanuskewin.com.  The park is over 360 acres in breadth and the natural flora, fauna, herbs and rock formations remain all along the many scenic trails and sites of archaeological digs.  The area is very near the Saskatchewan River and has the Cathedral Bluffs neighbourhood as their closest neighbour.

This display case of beautifully beaded men and women's clothing met us at the front door.  The dress was typical of the Northern Plains Indians.

We were taken to a large room in the architecturally-unique interpretive centre and shown some very interesting footage about the origins of that sacred place.  We were told that amazingly, aboriginal people had followed the buffalo to that same meeting place every year for over 6,000 years.  Archaeologists have found artifacts as they dug down, layer by layer to prove it.  They asked us to put that timeline into perspective.  When you think of what a short time ago European colonialization really began....it was less than 200 years.  That simple fact made me stop and think and I realized how short a lifetime really is.  We were told  of the seven First Nations that reside in Saskatchewan and were told their greetings: Tansi (Cree), Aninskwa (Saulteaux), Edlanete (Dene), doken ya un (Dakota), Toki I ya un (Nakota), toked ya un (Lakota), Oki (Blackfoot), and Hello (English).  Incidentally, one of the conference speakers had welcomed us to the area of Treaty 6 earlier that day.  Saskatoon is Treaty 6 for instance, while Yorkton, to the south is Treaty 4.   Once introduced to the concept, you don't soon forget these things, but the second part of the tour made an even deeper impression on me. 

A young woman demonstrated hands-on how to construct a tipi.  It was an amazing experience and I felt almost confident enough, when it was over, that I could build one myself if the opportunity ever arose.  She was an amazing teacher and spoke so slowly, patiently and confidently.  The poles are from plain old poplar trees, young, straight saplings with the bark peeled off.  Each pole has a separate word and meaning attached to it.  For instance, one of the poles is for respect, one for child rearing and like that.  The tipi below is one that sits on display in the centre.  Please note the rocks around the bottom are placed there specifically to keep out rodents and rain.  I tried to take pictures of the inside of the tipi, but they really didn't turn out...too dark.  The interior is small, but very cozy with a floor of lush, thick furs and room for an open fire in the middle.  Where the poles criss-cross at the top is said to signify a place for an eagle to nest.  The eagle has a place of importance in the world in part because it flies so high and sees so much. One of the most interesting aspects of the tipi is that it was totally the responsibility of the women. They put it up, took it down and carried it from place to place.



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The open flaps of the canvas at the top of the tipi are meant to signify the open arms of a woman and mother.  The flaps can be opened or closed depending upon the time of day and weather.  The front entrance is closed from the outside with a dozen or so sticks that are threaded each through two holes.  They for all the world look like those coats that used to have buttons that looked like elephant tusks.  The tipi poles for these particular tipis were approximately eight feet in length.  There are bigger sizes in different areas of the country, but the reason the tipis were small here was because they had to be transported from place to place quickly and easily.  They were made to accommodate the nomadic lifestyle involved with following the buffalo herds. 

Having lived in Saskatchewan my whole life and knowing that the temperature in the winter can reach minus sixty degrees celsius, I am amazed that the people survived. If I get cold, all I have to do is turn up the thermostat in either the house, the car or the office.  If it's bitterly cold, I don't spend much time outside.  Life today has no resemblance to those harsher times.  Sure, I've had frostbite if outside too long, but I can't imagine the wind whipping for days and weeks on end and having to huddle around a camp fire.  I know the importance of physically moving your body, so I can't feature a life of months and months confined to an area where you couldn't really stand up and walk around. 

I also cannot feature having a few rambunctious children spending a long, freezing cold winter in an area that was essentially 8 feet round.  The interpreter at the centre told us of the many and very strict rules involved with living that way of life in a tipi.  I can understand why there would be so many rules.  At all costs, limits would have to be set and measures taken to strongly enforce survival of the fittest. Not knowing about the R factor warmth in buffalo hides and skins, perhaps I would have a different view if I did know. Buffalo, moose, deer, elk, wolf, coyote, birds etc.  live outside in all types of weather, so there is obviously something to it.

Think of Buffalo, these massive creatures who roamed free all over the prairies for thousands of years and then suddenly came dangeroulsy close to extinction.   We worry about hitting a moose with our vehicles, can you imagine hitting one of these beasts?  First off, they look kind of cranky to me and their horns would be nothing to fool with. If their hides and furs could sustain the peoples' existence for so many millenia in Canadian extremes of weather, it's a tragedy that they no longer grace our wilds.  We only see them today a few at a time roaming and grazing in game preserves and zoos.  On the other hand, I can't imagine the panic I would feel if I was out picking berries and heard the distinctive hoof beats of a herd of these rampaging beasts coming my way!

 

 

A buffalo skull and horns is preserved under glass at the centre.  Incidentally, Regina is the capital city of Saskatchewan and was originally called "pile of bones".  I guess we can understand which animal bones they were thinking of.

 



There are two galleries at the centre filled with fabulous art and cultural artifacts.  Below is a drum.  The structure holding it appeared to be metal.

 



 The item that follows appears to be perhaps where our modern day quilting got its start.  Maybe not, but who knows....could be, couldn't it?  The difference is that the cloth and thread is animal hide. The decorations are made from beads.  Quite beautiful, precious and an indicator of ancient times that live on today. I have a pair of slippers made of these same materials.  They are cool in the summer and warm in the winter...the best pair of slippers I have ever owned.

 

 



 

 

There is something so romantic about what went on in our land before we were ever born. We try to imagine it, but it's only in the last few decades that we are even beginning to understand how things evolved from then until now.  I am proud of the first nations people and of our shared heritage.  Aboriginal people are strong and resilient and we have so much more to learn from them if only we will take the time to listen.

 

Forgive and Forget ... how far can you go?

Learning to forgive and forget  they say makes you the bigger person, whoever "they" are.  We all makes mistakes and everyone deserves a second chance.  I would not argue that.  So, when someone wrongs us, we tend to call on all the inner reserves we can muster, along with using whatever maturity and common sense it takes to unleash our own "decent~ness".  We dig deep, way down, underneath the hurt, and the shame, to find the flicker of love that was once there.  Even when nearly extinguished,  we do what we can to take a stab at forgiveness and fan the dying flame of decency once more.  After all, negative strokes they say, are better than no strokes at all. 

What I mean is that it can only  be a half-hearted attempt because it's in direct proportion to the magnitude of the travesty, which can only ever be a simple formula...a ratio really.   Many of us simply cannot comprehend that someone we love could hurt us deliberately, or God forbid, have a black heart.  Initially, we rationalize on their behalf and invent excuses for them, grasping at whatever straws are available.  We try to ignore what is staring us right in the face....they are hurting us....no doubt about it.  We don't want to see because you and I both know we aren't like those other people of the world who make a career out of seeing the dark side of others.   That type can't seem to see the forest for the trees. Yet some, like you and I don't have to look far to find the pureness, the inner child, and the light that resides within those around us.  Besides, we understand that for some, their once bright inner torch has only temporarily deserted their lighthouse,  and we confirm it with a glance at the windows to their soul...yes, what's left we see is only a faint ember burning.

When we are offended, aggrieved, and hurt, we go numb.  We stop everything.  We lack the ability to make even the smallest of plans because all functions are literally malfunctioning at the junction.  We are like a house fly when the weather turns cold.  We're forced into slow motion through no fault of our own.  We are an easy target.  We lack the ability to connect one thought process to another.  We are caught in a closed loop.  We ask why, over and over and over.  We want to know why and how it happened? Even when there is no answer.  We wonder what we did wrong.  We speculate, guess and hedge our bets about what contributed to the outcome.

We are left shaken and wondering if our worlds will ever be the same.  We must grieve for our losses, but especially for the loss the person we once knew and the way of life we once had.  We must grieve the wrongdoing, try to make sense of what happened, and try to move on.  After all, holding on to the past, especially the negative,  is neither productive nor wise.

Wrongdoings come in all shapes and sizes, from criminal activities to relationship betrayals and everything in between and beyond. 

Courts of law tend to be fairly black and white.  The evidence is looked upon in a strict and regimented way.  Strangers are present to make  decisions about your loved one.  That's the bizaare part.  They look at this member of your family and in part make a determination just by the presence or absence of remorse.  They decide whether it is it real, fake, contrived, or simply anger and sadness at being caught.  The judge and jury try to decide if the behavior was a one-time offence or if it is a continual pattern.  They predict, based on all the evidence, if the behavior might return again.  The evidence is assembled not only through submissions by the prosecutor and defense lawyer  but by the testimony of witnesses and by continual watching of the verbal and non-verbal demeanour of the accused all through the proceedings. The manner of dress and cleanliness is assessed as extremely important.  The court observes whether the person is depressed, cold and calculating, or suicidal.  They hear testimony from professionals about mental illness or addictions.    Lastly, using all their senses plus an unexplainable sixth sense which includes intuition, and a wish for telepathy, they look deep into the eyes of the accused.  They ponder and pray to God for guidance before their deliberations are complete.

In the world outside the courts, there is no charge, neither judge nor jury; the family, friends, and community must make these same determinations.  Such situations are not easy.  In aboriginal culture, they may resort to sentencing circles.  When addictions are involved some societies resort to interventions.  Religious communities may resort to shunning.  In cases of abuse though, many families seek professional help, but far too many tend to go it alone.

Let's take the one-time offender, wracked with guilt, and full of remorse.  That person is most likely going to get a fairly light sentence.  Perhaps a fine, or a short time behind bars.  The public is happy when the discipline fits the crime.  They wait and watch while the subject endures whatever hardship is bestowed.  They want to see a full rehabilitation when the discipline is meted out and endured.  After all is said and done, they wonder, why did the person fall off the rails in the first place?  Was it a thrill-seeking adventure because of sheer boredom?  Was the person lead to a dark place by unsavoury friends or acquaintances?  Was there a temporary lapse in judgment while the person was influenced by drugs or alcohol?  Has the person gone mad? 

A common example is the Christmas Party from a few decades back.  When it's time to go home, the man, who has definitely had too much to drink, hands the keys over to his wife.  After all, she makes less money than him and it would be much less inconvenient if she lost her license than if he lost his.   She reluctantly gets behind the wheel even though she's had a few drinks too.  So far so good she thinks as she swerves on the icy streets.  Before she knows it though, there's a flashing red light pulling her over.  She bears the brunt of the offence and has her license marred as a result.  Today, people are much more savvy than that (I hope).  Mothers Against Drunk Drivers (MADD) and Students Against Drunk Drivers (SADD) have worked along with police and community media campaigns to try to get the message out...."don't drink and drive".  People nowadays seem to realize more than ever that it's better to call a cab than for anybody to drive drunk.

It takes a big person to forgive and forget, but remember the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.  If your loved one has had a second or third or fourth chance and continues to make you the brunt of their bad behavior, you are probably now becoming a victim.  Please, for everyone's sake... look hard and see if you are living in the cycle of abuse.  Do you recognize the explosive incident....or the slip from sobriety....or the cheating?  Then... do you recognize the honeymoon phase once the cat is out of the bag?  Do you hear these words?  I love you so much, you're the only one I ever wanted....I can't live without you....See the behavior for what it is.  Ask yourself if there is some reason you can't live without this person.  Is it because you are so co-dependent and beat down that you won't allow yourself to believe there is another and better life waiting out there for you?  If you don't know what co-dependent  means in a relationship, please google it!  If you find yourself in this situation, by all means find a good counsellor and talk your heart out.  It will help on so many levels.

Not all offences are prosecuted formally....some are matters of the heart and are dealt with in living rooms and kitchens.  Navigating through these situations can only make us stronger and wiser.  All the best to those trying desperately to get away from all forms of lethal controllers and unkind people.  You need all the support and encouragement you can get, so if someone asks if there is anything they can do to help....ask if they want to go for coffee...