I had read about an Indian Cultural event being held in Cherokee North Carolina, on the actual Cherokee reservation for the Eastern band, so we decided that would be the perfect weekend 'getaway! So, with the Eagle feather on the rear view mirror to guide us, and Chuy getting into the 'Warrior Spirit', we headed out.
As we drove, not much changed as far as the scenery goes until the elevation started climbing, and we started heading into the famous 'Smokey Mountains. (They don't call them Smokey for nothing!) These mountains emit whiffs of trailing fog, lingering mist's, and smoke like wafes throughout their mountain tops and throughout the valleys. It's as if there are thousands of campfires burning here and there. It is very mystical and mysterious looking.
While driving, I began to imagine all sorts of ideas what this place must look like, tucked up deep in these mysterious mountains. Were we heading into a long lost valley of mystical Indian figures? Perhaps tipi's here and there? Certainly a leather clad, braided and feathered Indian or two will be looming about?
I imagined all the old West movies. The old 'John Wayne type, with the Indians riding old paint ponies and galloping with their feathered headbands flowing in the wind. Painted faces, and a bow and arrow in hand. Surely, after this long drive, and winding deeper and deeper into these mysterious looking hills, I figured we must be in for a very unique cultural experience.
Well, I was right on one point, we were in for a very unique cultural experience, just not the one that I had imagined.
When we finally passed the little sign, almost hidden in the brush, that announced you had arrived on Cherokee land, and we rounded the next corner.... we were met with what one might term: The commercialization of an aging reservation.
Still, I had hopes of experiencing true Native American culture at the event we were to attend that evening.
Driving down main street, you see business's that have capitalized on the Indian theme. However, the merchandise is right out of China. Plastic bows and arrows, fake dreamcatchers with magenta and purple colored feathers, cheap imported blankets from Mexico that are suppose to pass for Indian woven rugs..... all kinds of cheap crap..... and its sad.
I had hoped to see authentic hand made Native craft. Some one had even managed to put up a tipi in the parking lot?
We entered 'Cherokee just in time to catch the evening session of their 4th annual cultural event gathering. We paid our $10.00 and entered the tribal campgrounds. What first struck odd to me, was the tribal grounds were smack dab in the middle of the city (reservation). They were modern! Cemented, covered, and new buildings. The second thought I had, was that there were no visible Indians vendors. Usually at an event such as this, there would be little booths with Indians selling all sorts of handmade crafts. You would find bundled sage wands, jewlery, drums, leather purses, moccasions, rattles, beaded things. The only booth that was open, was a frybread booth.
Ummmm, ummmmm. I tell you what! It just about beats my Grammas Scandinavian Krum KaKa recipie! Frybread is some sort of dough, deepfried, and topped with melted butter, cinnamon sugar, with a touch of powdered sugar! Delicious!
Of course, my sweet warrior husband knew my hankering for a Frybread, and made sure I had one. (Thanks sweetie!)
We 'pulled ourselves away from the frybread stand, and headed over to the 'modern bleachers facing their stage.What grabs you first, and this is usually at any Indian event, is the drum. There is usually a steady beat in the background somewhere. Its relaxing and exhilarating at the same time.
Then, the dancers begin to gather. In all their brightly colored regalia and long black hair, they position themselves, and wait upon the MC to announce them. At this time, the MC gives a little talk about the dance. He speaks of its origins, what tribe it came from, how it got its meaning, and what the dance is called. He speaks of the importance of the dance to the community, and will speak of who the dancers are, what tribe they are from, and he always thanks them for being there.
The drum hits a stronger beat, and the people start to move...... in step with the beat and each other.
As I watched this centuries old band of Indians dance, I saw a familiar sight,they acted as one. As a community of people. Their dancing showed the secret to their survival as a people group. They include everyone. Everyone has a role, everyone comes together seperatly, to dance as ONE.
First, the announcer introduced the dance. In this case, the first dance of the night was the 'Ant Dance. The speaker spoke how ancient this dance is to the Cherokee's, and that over the centuries the people have observed and learned from the lowly little ant... how it scurries about this way and that, getting things done. The speaker made sure we were all aware of the moral to each dance. The dance teaches the people how to live, to respect and learn from nature and the animals God the Creator gave us.
The dance had men and women, teenagers and small children. They grouped up, and with the beginings of the drum, they started moving around, with hands held up close to the forehead with their fingers sticking up moving around mimicking ants feelers.
I noticed it took all of the community to make the dance. No one was left out, grammas and grandpas alike were included. Around and around they moved, no one missing a beat as the drum, (the heartbeat of the people) beat a steady rhythm. I saw smiles, and humor, and everyone moved as one. We enjoyed the dancing and the drum, and the funny Indian humor as the speaker talked and told of interesting little things that the ant does.
There is not much complication to the movement of the dance. No one notices if you miss a step, or take a break. The people keep moving. Around and around and around. They patiently and with stamina keep moving.
Sometimes, its just a blurr of color and people as they become one.....
They stare straight ahead, arm bent with a shawl or feather fan held precisly in front. They tilt the chin slightly up, and their long black hair flows behind, giving slight ripples as they bend and dip to the beat ... the never ending beat of the drum.
You see children trying their serious best to keep up the endurance of the dance. With the most serious of faces, they follow alongside a Mom or Dad, and have to trot sometimes to keep pace.... amazingly you see the grand mother dancing with regal stature and poise, as must her ancestors thousands of years before her danced. They dance to remember, to learn, to become one of the community. When they are in dance, there is no individual, only a community of people moving as one blended unit.
It was a very moving and touching thing to see.
And I am grateful they allow others to observe.
In watching the Indians dance, you have a peek into living history. A millineum old people group, still enacting dances thousands upon thousands of years old. Living history.....
As the evening wore on, we watched the Buffalo dance and learned that a long long time ago, the Cherokee people remembered a type of Buffalo that used to inhabit the Carolina region. (That had to be a LONGGGG time ago). There dance re-enacts what their ancestors lived with. And we saw a funny little dance where they took a beaver tail, tied with strings on both ends. Two Indians sat a ways apart from each other, and pulled the tail back and forth between each other, as members of the dance broke free to try to hit it with a stick they were carring in their hands.
I guess the moral being or showing, how it takes a whole community 'giving it a try' to get even one beaver? Anyway, again the tribe acted as one unit. No individual's...only the group. And the entire group acting as one in the dance.
It was getting late, time to find a motel and get some sleep. We would explore the town the next day.
Stay tuned...to be continued!
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