All Good Things. . .

All these nations beating as one. Their movements were slow. Reserved, at first. A light tap of the foot here and there. It was as if on the lowest setting on a stair stepper. The beat of the rhythm sped. Grew louder. Upped, the dancers’ movement became more demonstrative, more animated.

 


One man, an older white haired man, had a metal rattle. His arm movements were short, slow, measured. However, as the beat grew stronger his body became more involved. It was violent, there was anger in his movements. 

 

Heard a musician say, “After a concert, he would be exhausted.” After watching this older man, this tribal elder, dance I can see why. There was passion in his dance. Must have been in his 70’s, but his energy would match any twenty year old at a rave. You can pick him out of the crowd. He wasn’t wearing the ceremonial garb as the others. His was the more traditional “White Man” dress. He wore black slacks, leather belt, and a sweater. However, from his movements his Indian heritage was strong. White haired, with a face that would rival any Marine drill sergeant. One could not not watch him dance.

Walking in to the Pow Wow, I wasn’t really impressed. They had the obligatory vendors selling their wares like many—too many—festivals. Fox skins, buffalo horns, and hollowed tortoise shells. There were bead bracelets, bone necklaces, and wooden bows and arrows. Music CDs of Native American were on display. DVDs and books also filled up the racks.

Didn’t think much at first of the whole festival. Wasn’t really large.  It was much like one poor Renaissance Fair I attended. No teepees. Nothing of the traditional Native Indian American decoration I had expected. My mind was expecting something from the Autry Museum. Tents that people used were canopies one buys at Costco, Sam’s Club, and Big Five.

Many attendees wore jeans and heavy metal t-shirts. Young teenage kids dressed in Chollo garb. If I didn’t know otherwise, I would have thought many were from Hispanic descent. Even saw one vendor dressed up in South American Indian attire. I was ignorant and had stereotypes in mind. 

Walked a couple of times around the circle. Sat at different open places trying to get a different feel of the place.  Some wore outfits with Eagle feathers and Native American dress. A few ladies wore proudly Turquoise rings and necklaces.

Tents were arranged in a circle. They called it .  . .the  Arena. Didn’t understand at first, but the circle has great significance. It is held in esteem. It is a sacred place. In time, I learned why it was called the Arena.

Continued. . .All Good Things (2 of 2)