Going Native in America p5

So this is the last post in the mini series that was my 3 days with a trio of native americans. The other posts can be found by following this native american link.

At the beginning of these meetings, Jenni, the leader had told me that she would share knowledge about experiences if I would listen to their request at the end. She had said that it wasn’t an obligation unless I accepted it as such i.e. the experiences were freely given.

As you can imagine I had been intrigued by this request for the 3 days that we met and asked on a few occasions what it would be. Alas nothing was forth coming. So it was with great anticipation that I met with Jenni on this final day.

Both Tom and Sam were not in attendance and I had said my farewells to them yesterday. So it was just me and Jenni, walking along the beach.

She began by asking me what I knew about Native American history. I told her what little I knew. Which essentially amounted to the fact that they had been decimated by the Europeans over the last few hundred years.

She agreed with me and said that decimated was the right word to use. “We were not only defeated in that our lands have been stripped from us, but we were also defeated in spirit. Our very spirit, individually and collectively has been shattered.”

Her speech was long and detailed as she listed the tribes that had once wandered across the now artificially created States boundaries. Those tribes were the land and the land was the tribes. She said that America as it is now has been reborn from the ashes of an un-forgiving land and (in her words) this is why much of the world sees the America with fear or hate.

Personally I have to disagree with her, but this is her story so…

But, she went on, this isn’t about America or Americans it is about us, the natives of this land. We have a problem that is like a parasite that has killed our strength and eaten away at our spirit. This parasite is un-forgiveness she proclaimed.

We (as a race) cannot forgive what has been done to us and what has been taken from us. Without that forgiveness we cannot heal and become strong again. Over the years we have striven to try. Some leave the old ways and embrace the new but they are sick in their hearts. Roots cannot be left behind. They travel with us and if there source is poisoned then that too enters the soul.

Having tried and failed to bring this message to the people across the country, some few of us have embarked on a different strategy. What we have decided to do is increase the fold of Native Americans. We will bring others from outside into our collective.

I was surprised at this, could it even be done? Jenni assured me that it could.

Jenni and many others among the Natives believe that by extending the fold, there will come a time when there will be a shift of balance. The fold will contain enough who know the value of forgiveness to break the hold that that curse has upon them and the whole of her (she smiled and corrected herself) our kind will be free of it and be able to continue to progress.

What a concept! And an original idea. I was flabbergasted. “And you want me to become a native american” I asked?

Yes, she said, simply and looked across at me. We had reached the point were we had sat the previous days and she gestured for me to sit down. She didn’t speak for many minutes.

Thoughts of all kinds frittered through my mind. What would it entail, it was a great obligation, what would I have to do, did I have to move to the States? Rituals? My brain was on fire. Then it all stopped. Almost as if it had been commanded.

I didn’t ask any of the questions that arose, not a one. I turned to Jenni and said, “I accept.”

Whilst I watched, Jenni dug a little whole in the ground in-between me and the waters of Brooklyn bay. She opened her satchel and pulled out some wood and dropped it into the hole. She then lit a fire from the wood and came to sit by my left side.

Quietly she said to me, “Here we have fire and water.” She lifted some sand in her hands and let it fall. “Earth” she said, and I swear, on cue a breeze blew, “wind”.

“all we need know is to call the spirit of the land.” She leaned close to my left ear and began singing. Her mouth was so close that the breath from it tingled my ear and made the hair stand on the back of my neck. She sang and sang. some bits sounded sad, some happy, some times she would just hum.

At first I just stared at the waters of the bay and the flames. After a while I just closed my eyes and let that song fill me. It wasn’t a haunting song, which I guess one might expect, rather it was sprightly and lively. Like a fast running brook rushing over cobbles.

Without stopping she moved to the other side of me and sang into my right ear. This was haunting and melodious. filled with long sounds and words. Both songs were in her Native American tongue.

About 40 minutes later she stopped singing. I let the echoes (inside of me) settle before I opened my eyes. “It is done” she said, “You carry with you a token of the heart of this land and my people.” She had moved in front of me and I looked up at her. She had tear streaks running down her face.

“Is there anything I have to do?” I asked. “No, it is done” She paused, “from our talks I know that your nature is forgiving. That is the energy that will help us. You will know what to do in time.”

I asked her what she had sung. She said, “I sang of the forest, the lakes, the hills and mountains, of the empty ravines and the dancing bee…” she said much more but I can only recall those.

We put the fire out and walked back along the beach without speaking. It seemed that there was nothing more to say. We reached the point were we had met on three occasions. I confess I felt so profoundly sad (even as I write this I am feeling that moment).

She looked at me and said, “it’s because our hearts felt so good in each others company”. She laughed, short and sharp. It broke a spell.

“Good bye Kal Malik” turned and walked away.

I hadn’t the mood to walk on the beach anymore, though the day was still young. I think I just wandered aimlessly for the rest of the day.

Kal