Friday, April 16, 2010

Dance Challenge

Will put this short piece on You Tube entitled Dance Challenge. At Rehua Marae, after an evening of cultural sharing the night before where the young Maori dancers taught Winnemem how to use the poi balls, the young Winnemem men asked the young women to dance the haka. The women danced with the poi ball instead and said they would only do the haka if the men shared a dance. Not to be outdone, the young Winnemem dancers danced with the poi ball their pow wow dances, impressing the crowd. The women joke and walk away -- but return as promised to do the haka.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Birthday

A beautiful sunny day! Cherry tree in full bloom. Spring flowers showing their buds, some ready to bloom. Fitting for my mom's birthday. She would have been 90 years old today. I know that I should be feeling only gratitude for the three years I was blessed to take care of her. But a wisp of adolescent sense of unfairness still hangs in my heart like a surprise spider web. I wanted another fall of blazing colors the day she left me. I wanted another spring season full of joyrides. And I wanted today, a birthday cake with 90 years old on it and placing it in front of my mom and watch her make big googly eyes and say, "90 years old?! Me?!"

I will get tulips for the alter for my Four Treasured Ancestors. How lucky I am. Four.

There is a picture of my precious Winnemem Granny who took us under her wing and mothered me through the hardest times of my adult life and helped raise our family onto a path of life my Nikkei upbringing prepared me for. I wasn't alone anymore; we ae in a circle with a Mountain, a River, and prayers said like children say to their grandparents and relatives who take care of them, to our relatives of Mother Earth.

The middle picture, because that is her favorite place to be, is a picture of my mother in her late thirties, a beautiful woman more beautiful than her daughters would ever be, petite, but mighty inside. She was not raised to live the life she was given, an unfortunate arranged marriage, single mother, fearful for her daughters, but still walking each day with faith that it would turn out ok. I noticed this is the same way she woke up each morning, her mind unfamiliar now to her, everything unfamiliar. She must have gathered up courage out of each new day's confusion and would greet the staff and "the elderlies" (her name for them) like they were all her relatives and ate her familiar breakfast. And when I showed up in the morning and got her ready for her day, she brightened, remembering me, "My Baby!!" Then everything must have been ok. Her hand cupped in mine, we'd go out for our ride, a new adventure each day. And when we left the gate, she'd raise her arms and embrace it all. We repeated this through the day, and each time I came after a meal or after her nap or the entertainment social hour, always, the bright smile. "There you are!" I think she thought that she and lived together and I was just walking another hall.

For the ancestral alter, instead of any one of the pictures I snapped during these four important years where I took care of Momma, it is the thirty-something single mother's picture I chose looking like a movie star to her young daughters.

And on the other side of her picture is the one of her parents together, my grandparents,who must have been in their fifties at that time. Grandpa is in his suit, serious, and Grandma the same. It's a formal dignified picture of the farmer and the farmer. No farmer's wife in our family. My immigrant Ojichan and Obachan both worked hard. My own mother never lost her "on" for her parents, that deep feeling of unrepayable debt. On the one hand, there is a story behind this feeling of "on", because my grandparents rescued all three of us despite the norms of the time regarding marriage and we lived together for their whole lives. We were one family, not a broken one. I had no need for anyone -- no father figure, no surrogate, no father. I felt whole with Obachan, Ojichan and my mother.

So for the four treasured elders, I am grateful to you. I am grateful that you took care of my mom whose picture sits between, between her precious parents and the Winnemem Granny of the Sacred Mt. Shasta who takes care of my family and me still. And it will be flowers for you because you all, each one of you, loved flowers. Grandpa has a carnation attributed to him. Grandma never posed for a picture without standing by her flowers in full bloom. We were never without flowers in her house because Grandma was also a lifelong student of "ikebana," the art of flower arranging, natural style. As for my Granny, she and I planted many flowers at the ranch during our twenty some years together. She liked her roses best planted and blooming all season rather than cut into bouquets.

And for this birthday, this spring day, for all our joyrides and walks among the blossoms of each season, for always being brave when you stepped into the unknown circumstances, sometimes terrible circumstances, and holding on to treating the human beings like your relatives, and for taking good care of your two little girls even at the sacrifice of your own desires, Happy Birthday, Momma.

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Check out April 8!!!

I noticed that the April 8 blog entry of the news report in New Zealand did not play. I happened to find the same news report on You Tube but in Maori!!! Check out April 8! It's twice as good! Subtitled in English.

Friday, April 9, 2010

from Outside the Belly . . . following Earth instead

Whew! Morphing a bit here. On a whim, while the techno guy is in the next room napping, still suffering from jet lag, I started messing with my Blog layout. I was playing with some pictures Ruth Koenig said I could use -- maybe a slide show above my blog logo. I dropped in the nice one of the Rakaia River where we just spent several days doing ceremony for the Nur with our Winnemem Family and our new Waitaha Mamoe Fisher and Ngai Tahu family. In doing that, much to my scary surprise the whole TBAsian and daruma image completely disappeared. "YIKES! Well, that's that, I guess," I muttered to myself. Will had done a lot of work customizing it for me when I began my blog. But there it goes.

Opportunity for another name, and get rid of the old. TBAsian is no more. I drummed my fingers in thought.

I've fancied the concept we picked up in Cuba, from philosopher and freedom fighter of the first revolution back in the 19th century, Jose Marti. He talked about living in the monster but where one can SEE its belly and not be IN it, digested in complacent acceptance of the runaway nightmare reality brought to us by over-consumption and waste of Earth's gifts. I had just blogged how I felt lucky to be a citizen of the Winnemem Tribe with their long hard struggle for justice. Not an easy life, but as Granny said, and my ancestors would have said, the best life we can live -- following the Earth, working for what is needed for Life to sustain itself rather than accept the nightmare. From where I sit, I think we have no other option.

Will has groggily wakened and opened up his laptop. I tested the big change and asked him to check out something I blogged. He did, and it wasn't too big of a shock for him when the Rakaia River replaced the Daruma dolls, so I hope it is not for you either. Same person. More stories.

I've made the best of my big techno-slip. And I personally like the new blog name. I meet a lot of people "outside the belly" -- many kindred spirits here and everywhere. Now I meet whole countries outside the belly, with my passport in hand, it's so grand to be traveling together with great people somewhere where it feels good and to meet new family, make new alliances -- whether 100 miles off the coast of Florida, but completely a different way of life, or clear across the Globe, and meet people "just like us" as the Maori and we said to one another.

Hope you like the new Blog Name, the new image of the Rakaia, dear to my heart, and now that my techno-slip was not such a disaster, I think I'll work on some fancy slide show or something as part of the blog. If it doesn't work, and I make another slip, who knows what I'll call the blog next! BTW, you all look so pretty against the mustard color!

WW/ Chief Caleen Sisk Franco Speaks on the Rakaia, Pt 1

WW/ Chief Caleen Sisk Franco Speaks on the Rakaia, Pt. 2

WW/ Rising Up Time

The first night of Ceremony was bitterly cold on the Rakaia River. Down bag, tent, thermals, thick hoodie, but still very cold. The next morning after Sunrise Ceremony, the Chief put down a prayer at the Fire for us, and as it is during ceremony, the other nights were almost balmy. People could sleep with their tents open.

That was not the only prayer made on sacred ground. There were many. The dance itself, the fasting, the songs were prayers too.

The second day, a salmon leaped out of the water right in front of Caleen's eyes. They knew we were there, that the next generation of Winnemem were dancing hard for them to return home to the Winnemem River. There is no question that everyone in the circle, Maori and Winnemem, felt strong. There is no question that we understand how important this relationship is. And there is no option to quit.

On the fourth day of ceremony, although we did not know it at that time, the federal court dealing with a lawsuit regarding what was happening to the Sacramento Delta declared that there was negative effect on the culture and spiritual beliefs of the Winnemem Tribe and that this was just as serious as the negative effect on the economy. That is quite amazing news, for the judge to mention the tribe, acknowledge the importance of culture and spiritual beliefs.

I was napping in the Rehua Marae the last day we were in New Zealand, pooped from ceremony, and woke up to interesting conversation. I peeked over my sleeping bag, and saw a circle of people including the Chief and Head Man. The upshot that this was an important conversation between the Winnemem and parties interested in working with the tribe, seeking them out with some very interesting ideas.

I won't go into it anymore but just to say, things have changed a lot. The Fish and Game of New Zealand uses language like "we were helped in the past by these people; and it's our turn to return the favor" quite willing and ready to send the salmon eggs back to the McCloud or Winnemem River. The Maori people have said, "you are like us. We will stand with you." They have shown that. They have scolded the press for printing insulting racist articles before the Winnemem arrived. They have promised to talk to customs about the damage to the outfits. And some of them have said, you'll have the eggs even if we have to bring them ourselves.

Admittedly, after waking up at 4 am, and being taken to the airport by our intrepid Maori family at 5 am (yes, they had time to send us off the Maori way, with prayer, song, and greeting), we flew to Sydney and were STUCK in the airport until 10 pm, five hours longer than planned -- but that's the only inconvenience we faced. We spent the time sleeping. I remember Dance Captain Rick telling Will and me of a nicer lounge with soft chairs, quieter, we could sleep in and we started to go to check it out, but I'd been sleeping with 29 people every night, and thought I'd rather sleep where I could hear soothing voices. So I returned to my little seat, shut my eyes and listening to Weegie and Helene put me right to sleep again. It reminded me of my growing up days. I always fell asleep hearing the familiar murmur in the frontroom -- Grandma, Mom, Uncle Bill.

We came home to Pauline's email. Then Barry's. Then Wendy's. Then Tia's. And Coral's. Still connected!!!

I went to the naturopath for my coughing. Just a mild case of non-contagious bronchitis. What a relief and then she said, "your eczema has cleared up. The remedy must have worked." I told her "no, it didn't work at all. It was bad for the whole time I was in New Zealand. I felt badly for the Maori friends who had to greet me with eczema on my eyebrows. It was embarrassing." I told her I finally prayed hard at ceremony for it to go away. She looked at me harder. I said, "anyway, it cleared up just the last day we were there. Maybe the New Zealand sun burned it off." She said with finality, "It was probably the prayers."

I am expecting good things. I am expecting the salmon will return. I know that life will start being more normal for the Chief and Headman. They will be getting good news and good help. I know that the salmon and the eel have Guardians on both sides of the Great Pacific Ocean who are now connected with one another in a way distance doesn't matter and each of us are twice as strong. I know that the Pacific Ocean and the Rivers are now connected in the way the Maori and the Winnemem are. My belief that the Winnemem will be recognized has been strengthened by Rick Tau's response when he heard about the "unrecognized tribe designation", a snort and "Where do they think you came from" as well as with ceremony. I know Mt. Shasta and Mt. Aoraki are communicating.

I know there will be Maori and New Zealanders at ceremony at Coonrod. I know that good things will come from the visits back and forth.

I have enough hope that the little cloud which passed over me just an hour ago has dissipated. I'd delete the gloomy blog, but the feelings were real, although fleeting. I needed to give myself a kick and remember, the Chief took us half way around the world to get something done, and it got done.

The last night we were at Rehue Marae, several of the Maori stood up and said some words to us. They talked about first learning about the Winnemem, hearing that Caleen had contacted her UN connection, Karan, and asked to be able to come, and that the Ngai Tahu response was, "we knew this was something we must do." Originally, it was John and Al's brother who answered the call. It made us sad to know that he died between the year Caleen first contacted them and this year when she said we would be coming (in three months). John and Al and their wives Gloria and Tia picked up the responsibility. "We knew this was something we must do."

We all joined in the laughter when Gloria said each time she emailed Caleen, Caleen would respond and say a few more people will be coming. At fist they thought, maybe twelve people, but the numbers rose. Gloria said, "I began to think, I believe she intends to bring the whole tribe." and then Gloria added, "And then you got here and we thought everything was quite settled, and then, of course, there was one more."
New Zealander humor is so fun! We all laughed remembering Gloria leaving early in the morning to pick up Chris at Christ Church airport, our drummer, who was not able to leave work until the first weekend. He came just in time for ceremony. Bless Gloria!!

The Maori friends used words like honored, and family, and stand together. I know from our side we felt so grateful -- but they would say, "no we thank YOU." I know we felt honored, and we felt they were like family and we would stand always with them. There is nothing which feels more complete than two peoples who feel this way about one another.

At the very end on top of all that the Maori people did for us, there was still one thing more. We learned during our vist what the Greenstone meant to our Maori friends. We knew that Maori gave Greenstone as gifts and never purchased it for themselves. We knew that Ngai Tahu region was known for Greenstone. And along the Rakaia where we had held ceremony, when the sacred fire was out and the authority transferred back to our hosts, they performed a ceremony where trees indicating the time it was ok to gather Greenstone were planted on two corners of the four directions of the sacred circle. A third tree which symbolized our friendship was planted on the third. And the fourth was left open to the river and the mountain, and buried there was a hawk which had died, commemorating the ceremony for the salmon. We knew that Greenstone was part of the story of our meeting, and the story of the ceremony for the salmon and eel.

The richness of what we were taught about Greenstone meant even more as each of us travelers were given a Greenstone pendant to wear on which was embossed a Maori symbol. Lindsay, our friend who welcomed us straight off the plane in Christ Church when we first arrived, and stayed with us throughout ceremony said that symbol was very special, usually only for Maori.

I wear my Greenstone pendant with my outfit, and will wear it in ceremony, praying for the Longfin Eel and our Maori family, for the Rakaia, the Nur, and Mt. Aoraki. I will wear it with the anticipation of Good things. And when I feel cynical, I will take the Greenstone in my hand again and refocus.

I'm quite lucky, really. Raised as I was, my upbringing would have been wasted if not for the circumstances which led to being offered the opportunity to be tribal. To be tribal with a tribe which stayed real through extermination policies of all kinds and continues to do so no matter what barriers, like dams, are put before them is a great fortune and not to be met with cynicism. To have the good fortune to follow good leaders during critical times, and to be with good people is to be celebrated and appreciated. From inside the Monster, there's no better view of its belly than to be Winnemem. The tribe is not one to be "digested," in the belly of the beast, but to be free and outside of it, no matter how hard life might be. Thank you, Great Olelbis. Thank you, my ancestors. Thank you, my Granny. Life is good.

I hope someday our Maori family, and our New Zealand family will come to ceremony so we can welcome them and so they can meet all the Winnemem Sacred Places and be known by the spirits of those places. That's when the circle will be complete and even more Goodness will happen.

I wish I could capture how Richard would end his prayers, all the other Maori joining in, and by the last week, I distinctly heard some of the Winnemem dancers joining in too. I'll have to ask some of the young men I heard chanting to teach me to say it. I think the words express that we are together. I can hear it in my head but it won't come out of my mouth. I miss it.

If you want to read the other New Zealand blogs it begins April 4, and with the older posts. I will be returning from time to time to New Zealand memories. I will try to learn how to post Ruth Koenig's beautiful photos and let her tell her story. And I will will post Will's videos and he will tell his. Thank you for reading. These were my impressions, and others may find the flaws. And those are all mine.
"from Outside the Belly" was also known as "TBAsian" from 2008-2010. Thank you for reading.

from Outside the Monster's Belly

from Outside the Monster's Belly
. . . following Earth instead (Rakaia River, site of Salmon Ceremony, photo credit Ruth Koenig)

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Eugene, Oregon
I am a citizen of the Winnemem Wintu Tribe. I am a Nikkei descendant sansei (third generation);retired teacher, involved in the Winnemem tribal responsibility to Water, Salmon, and our belief that the Sacred is our Teacher. Working locally for human rights and supporting youth leadership.