My laptop grew dusty during the time I roamed through Albuquerque and Santa Fe, New Mexico.
I stayed with friends on the outskirts of Santa Fe. No wifi, no cable, nothing but a dual wide mobile home sitting on an acre of land, surrounded by horses, sheep, and chickens.
It was awesome. And very cold. It snowed one day and a couple of days bore 30 mile winds.
I’m sorry I missed my last Poetry on Wednesday, but I do have one poem that is apropos to this post. It is by MariJo Moore.
Why We Dance
To dance is to pray,
to pray is to heal,
to heal is to give,
to give is to live,
to live is to dance.
The GON Pow Wow took place at the University of New Mexico, in the Pit, a stadium holding thousands of dancers, audience, vendors, and drummers for a full two days and nights.
Opening ceremonies began with the eagle carrier on the stadium floor, joined by hundreds of dancers streaming in from the four directions of the stadium, dancing in a spiral towards the center until every inch of floor space held a dancer.
The strong, steady drumbeats mimicked the heartbeat. The cultural chants and swirling dancers in colorful regalia evoked a mystical atmosphere where I was transported to prayer and gratitude. Unknowingly, the drums took me to my own personal quest for self-identity that increased as the day grew to night.
Over 700 tribes from the USA, Canada, and Latin America gathered. The one thousand dancers ranged from tots to tribal elders, men and women.
Of particular awe were the Code talkers and veterans of WWII, Korea, and each subsequent war, including the Warrior Women. One of whom had an incredible reunion with her husband, as she walked with the color guard onto the stadium floor.
U.S. Air Force Captain Jukari Davis (Navajo), stationed in Afghanistan, surprised his wife, U.S. Air Force Captain Amileah Davis (Métis) in front of thousands at the 31st Gathering of Nations Powwow in Albuquerque, New Mexico last Friday.
Some general rules, when attending a Pow Wow:
- Respect the dancers. No snapshots unless you ask first. Thank the person (s) for their time.
- The dancers wear ‘regalia,’ not costumes. Each piece is symbolic and has meaning. Don’t handle their regalia.
- Stay away from the dance area, even for your photo shots.
- Don’t go around saying “How” to native people. (Originally, the greeting was “Hao.”)
- Respect the ceremonies by standing when asked, or keeping silence.
I asked a young man if he could share the symbolism of his beaded face dress. He smiled and said that the face dress was called beaded eye drops.
“Long ago, the story says that a boy watched grass dancers and spoke of becoming one some day. He waited until he was old enough to begin dancing, but he had an accident before he could begin, which left him in a wheelchair. Everyday, he came to watch the grass dancers, tears falling from his face. Out of respect, the grass dancers strung beads around their eyes, symbolizing the tears of that young boy.”
Drum beats reverberated through my body, evoking feeling from some long ago ancestor, moving my knees and feet in the dipping motion of dancers.
From noon until midnight, for two days, the music, exquisite regalia, dances, and aromas of fry bread, roasted corn and sweet potatoes inundated every part of me.
Several times I was asked, by natives, if I was native, and what tribe. Vendors sometimes give other natives a discount on items. The long answer would be that my DNA test says I’m 51% Native North American, but since my mom was orphaned at a very young age and I don’t know anything of my father’s history, and both are Mexican ethnicity, I could be native. My children are one eighth Blackfoot. But I answered truthfully, “I don’t know.”
I could tell by the reaction on the askers face that this was not an acceptable answer. My cousin said, say you’re Yaqui-all Mexican heritage has native indian. She is Diné (Navajo) on her father’s side. That feeling of ‘unknown otherness’ swept through me, briefly, until the drummers began another song. My quest is now to find out more about my heritage (although Ancestry dot com isn’t very helpful to me).
I’ve been to several pow wows, but the sheer immensity of this one was an incredible experience.
I hope to attend the Gallup, New Mexico pow wow in August. Maybe by then I can have a more definitive answer to the question, “Are you native, what tribe?”
6 thoughts on “Pow Wow Experience”
What a great post about this outstanding Pow Wow, but also about your personal quest.
New Mexico is a very special state. I have been lucky to visit many times and truth is each time I want to return. It is an enchanted state as its motto says.
I love the short poem you posted, too.
Here, near Yosemite, we do have some Pow Wows as well, but none is as big as the one you tell us about.
It’s so strange, that I didn’t know I even had a ‘quest’ in me, until I attended the pow wow. I agree with you, New Mexico is enchanted. Thanks, Evelyn, for stopping by.
I love your experiences. It is so much fun to read about them. Thank you for sharing!
And thank you Carol for stopping by. I so appreciate your comments.
I’ve been to a few pow wows up here, at Wikwemikong, and Wanipitae. Up here the bands and reserves are primarily Ojibway and Cree. We also have a large Metis population. Pow wows are beautiful, spiritual events. I love the jingle dress dancers. Though the dance is not dynamic, they dance to heal. The hoop dancers are unbelievable. The one dancer who made the biggest impression on me was a male dancer, who wore a bear skin and hood, made from a black bear he had hunted himself. I’ve even written a poem or two as a result.
My husband’s grandmother was Ojibway, but he has never bothered to assert his claim. It’s just not his style. He even lived for a while on the Magnetawan reserve, and has lots of fun stories, but he was never really part of a tribe, not in his heart.
I too loved the Jingle dancers, but my favorite would be the Prairie Chicken dancers-awesome movements and style. You are so right, the pow wows are spiritual events, one feels the energy in the air.