Well, I realized why I heard so many fire trucks last night. The fire station is right behind our house haha. And the main hospital is just up the road. So, I’m bound to hear a lot of sirens. That explains a lot. I took a drive around yesterday just to see what was in the area and counted about 8 rehabilitation facilities (drug/alcohol treatment, VA clinics, etc.) and church organizations within a 5 mile stretch. After that, I started settling into my room and getting everything organized. It felt good to know this would be my room for a little bit; I’m so tired of moving. It feels weird when you basically carry your whole life around in your car for 3 weeks. Yesterday, Karen took the day off. She hasn’t done that in awhile and probably won’t have a chance to do it again for a few weeks. I think she works too hard, so do Gabby and Alicia. It’s crazy. The knocks on the door are starting to become a natural part of my day. Every forty-five minutes (at least) someone will come to the house asking for something, selling something, or looking for something. I wish every person had the opportunity to live at the Center. Its awful hard to ignore poverty when it literally knocks on your door everyday. Even if you can bring yourself to ignore the knocks, there are always people on our front porch.
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| Front Porch of the Center (my home) |
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Tabletop where people sit on the porch:
The circle emblem (symbolizing ongoing life) is a traditional Plains Tribe medicine wheel. The colors represent the knowledge and appreciation of all cultures.
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| Tabletop depicting Buffalo: the Lakota's most sacred animal, associated with the coming of the Pipe. |
Seeing people on the porch makes for good acclimation to the area, but it’s also a strange way to encounter people. Its awful hard not to show compassion to someone when you’re looking them dead in the eye. When I arrive, I feel like I have a strange sense of power or entitlement because I can go inside the house. They can’t. Well, they can sometimes, but the Center is specifically volunteer housing. It’s not safe to constantly let people go in and out. Plus, it houses all of the donations. Most of the people who hang out on our porch are homeless or jobless—either way, they literally have nothing better to do (at least they think so). Alicia told me that people sleep in the gutter next to our house a lot; some of them will come ask for a blanket before night time. I asked if it was safe to sit out there and talk with them and she said, “Sometimes.” Some of the people are really enjoyable to talk to, but some of them have been extremely belligerent with her because they were drunk or high or both. Last week a man was drunk outside our house and told Alicia he was going to “drag her by her hair into his tipi and…” you get the picture. One of these days I’ll grow some ovaries and just sit outside and start talking to them. I can handle the belligerent ones as they come; there’s no reason to exclude myself from everyone that hangs out on our porch. After all, they really are just people. On another note, last night while I was cleaning I noticed that something smelled horrid, and then saw that trash was sitting downstairs in front of the door. I asked Alicia if I should take the trash out and she explained that there is no trash pick up at the Center; it is mostly just residential places where they pick up. Pastor Karen told me that we don’t have a dumpster outside the facility because it would attract critters and even more people. Most of the time Henry (a volunteer from the community) will come by the house and take the trash to the dump for us. This morning, I heard Gabby’s voice while I was sleeping so I got up and had breakfast/ devotion with them again. He’s so funny. I love to listen to his stories; only half of them are true, I’m sure. J I found out today he’s got 15 kids and about 26 grandkids. Crazy. He asked if I was ready to ride yet, and I told him I should probably wait until my burn heals. I think I’m going to try to learn bareback. He said I should be able to, there are tons of kids that learn that way. Today 3 middle aged women came in from Fort Collins, CO. We’re pretty much the coolest crew ever. Just me and 4 older, church-going, “liberal,” white ladies (including Karen). When I was helping them unload the stuff from the car I smelled something really awful and asked “Do y’all smell that?” To which one of them replied, “It’s vomit. You’ll encounter that a lot.” Sure enough, just a big puddle of dried puke right in front of my home. Awesome. Anyway, once they got settled we left for a pow wow at Woyatan which is about 2 hrs away. It was really casual, but incredibly beautiful. Since it was so laid back, I was able to take pictures and video!
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| Handsome Lakota Warrior Boy <3 |
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All the brave boys lined up (I only got videos of the girls)
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"Sneak Up" Dance
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We watched traditional Native American dancing, singing, and drumming and ate food (including Indian Fry Bread…so good). After the pow wow, we went to a Lutheran service that was lead by one of Karen’s friends. It was really incredible the way they incorporated traditional Native American culture. In the beginning of the service, we participated in “smudging,” a spiritual ritual where they burn sage and waft it over your body as a way to cleanse the spirit. Throughout the service we sang in both Lakota and English, and the group of drummers sang a dedication to one of the older members of the congregation (that’s when I fell in love with one of them haha). |
Here are some more tidbits I learned/realized today:
- Everyone here eats WAY too much fast food. KFC and McDonalds seem to be the hotspot. Buh. No wonder there’s so much diabetes here. I wish that there was a better option, but hey… if you’re hungry and poor with no way to cook, that’s about as good as it gets.
- This place is a clothing desert. The closest place to buy clothes is about 40-50 miles away. When people want clothes they either have to come up with gas money or if they don’t have a car, pay someone to take them. What a serious pain in the ass. Now imagine trying to do that on an annual income of $3,700. Yeah, that’s the median income on the res.
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Native American activists have repeatedly tried to shut down the liquor town of White Clay, NE over the past 40 years, but to no avail. People have even tried to burn the damn thing down. It’s a huge moneymaking industry, but unfortunately preys upon the addiction of Pine Ridge residents. (The town is one of Annheiser Beusch’s largest distributors)
http://battleforwhiteclay.org/?p=479#more-479o Pastor Rupp found about 50 empty cans of hair spray in the trash this morning (used for home made alcohol)
- Since tribal/federal law set it up that all people are basically “permanently leasing” land, their homes/ property don’t count as collateral.
- Check this out if you’re interested, guaranteed to shock you: http://www.nativevillage.org/Messages%20from%20the%20People/the%20arrogance%20of%20ignorance.htm
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