Késsinnimek - Roots - Racines

Sundance's Corner
   by
   Louise-Andrée Éthier aka Sundance Aquero Sharp

Le Voyage d'une Québecoise
Learning To Walk In Balance

Kwai dearest friends and relatives; Benibagos (October)

Preface

Our native ancestors were very wise in their outlook on life. Respect for life was one of the key elements taught almost in all native societies of North and South America. There is a thread that runs amongst these nations that can be said to be universal. Mainly because we are human beings and human beings have a way of influencing and learning from each other. Whether we lived thousands of years ago or today, our basic needs always remains the same. Physical, mental, emotional, social and spiritual needs have not changed since time immemorial. We have come a long way and yet, one has to wonder why we are still in so much conflict. Why we have not yet learned to get along with one another. Men and women have conflicts, nations have wars, and even generations do not see eye to eye. History, it seems, repeats itself.

When our ancestors told us to walk in balance, this was a way of saying that we need to live under the conditions of the world and universe. We are caught up in positive and negative forces that perpetually dance with each other through time, light and darkness known as cycles. The sun rises and sets, the moon governs our night and the stars are still unknown. We look into the sky and wonder if there is life as we know it out there in the vast and mysterious beauty that fills our night sky. Sometimes we behave like the mouse with its nose to the ground never really seeing the sky or at other times, we are like the eagle with its sharp vision and ability to see from far. The eagle has been known to warn us of danger in some tribes and is accepted generally as one who carries the prayers to the Great Spirit since it flies the highest. What some people will call superstition, others might call wisdom. All wisdom has its value. How we use it and how we are able to grow or profit from it is up to the individual. We can choose to be like the mouse or like the eagle. We can say however, that at some time or other, we will be like both.

My next story tells about an experience I had in my journey through life as I am close to the near to the end of my life; I can look back and say today is a good day. My hope is that you the reader will use my story as a base for comparison in your lives as that is how I have learned the most is from stories others have told me along the way. I hope you will enjoy this series of "A Québecoise's journey".

Coco

It was early in September that I came across another very special teacher in my journey through life. What we call, the earth-walk! And to which I will refer to my travels as such from now on. And an earth walk it is!

It was during the time when my two youngest children were very little. My third son had not been born yet. It would be a while before he arrived. It was my custom to go to flea markets on the weekends, especially on Saturdays. I would get up early in the morning and pack a lunch, get my children, my two sons, four years apart dressed and loaded into my Volkswagen bus and off we went. The children seemed to like the flea markets. They had a chance to run around and look at things, play hide and seek, and run about to their heart's content. Some of the flea markets had grass nearby and we'd find a spot, where we would eat our lunch and drink our juices.

One day, on a beautiful September balmy day, we met Coco. He was a fine looking elder gentleman, about six feet and several inches tall and very striking looking. He wore a big black hat, had long salt and pepper braids, a deep red shirt, black vest and regular trousers held by a beautifully handcrafted beaded buckle. He was selling his arts and crafts. As I looked around, I saw many beautiful items: jewelry, bead work, leather pouches, pipes of all kinds, even corn cob pipes, that I had not seen in a while, and many hand made musical instruments. He had a violin there that I really liked but could not afford. I bought a hand carved walking stick from him for eight dollars and two corn cob pipes. We began to talk and became friends from that time on. His wife Carla was with him; they were grandparents already and had married as childhood sweethearts. They had eleven children. She was very shy and very quiet. She stood about five feet five next to him. Both had beautifully dark, honey-brown skin and Carla had her long black hair in a pony tail wrapped in a chignon at the nape of her neck. She looked very distinguished nor she did not seem to mind that Coco and I were talking so much, in fact, she seemed to enjoy it. She even invited me to their home and gave me their address. I decided that one day I would go and visit them.

One afternoon when the kids were out with their Dad, I called Coco and Carla and asked if I could come over. They said yes, that they'd be happy to have me come and visit. Coco said "good because I have a surprise for you."

When I got to his home, I was delighted to see a big totem pole in front of his house. One could not miss it and there was a large medicine wheel hanging on the door. When I entered his home, it was filled, like a museum, full of art objects, statues, sculptures, masks, instruments paintings, jewelry and books everywhere. All the product of a man's artistic life I suppose. I got engaged with everything I saw. I had brought a pouch of gold jewelry that I intended to trade if Coco would permit it. He did. He liked the gold and so did Carla. She immediately put on the gold balls that I had brought. They looked as if they had been made for her. It suited her face and color very well. I must have traded a pile of silver for the gold. I felt I had the better part of the bargain but knowing Coco, he could melt that gold and make Indian jewelry out of it for a good profit. So he was happy. He then went to another room and came out with a long and very straight walking stick. He said, "This is for you. The other one you bought is too crooked." I thanked him of course and I must say, it was much better than the one I had bought for eight dollars. We traded a bit and eventually, he took me to his back yard. It was full of totem poles, a mile high it seemed, that he had sculpted all by himself. They were just beautiful. He told me that's how he made his living and how he had supported his large family. Totem poles and cigar store Indians. He had those all over the place doing various things, like playing cards etc. We had a small lunch and drank coffee all afternoon and traded some more. He was fun to trade with because he would always come up with something better to trade. He was also a very generous trader. I had come around eleven that morning and five o'clock came by very fast as it was time for me to go. We all embraced and left each other in good cheer. I was very happy to know these people.

After that, I would see Coco and Carla at the flea market on Saturdays and we would spend time there just talking and drinking coffee. He was always in good humor and had many good stories to tell. One day, he and Carla came to my house. Well, I am an artist also and I had some of my own art pieces strewn about just like he did, except mine were not as grand. He was also very engaged with my work. He was surprised because I had not told him that I was an artist! He came across a drum hoop that I had covered with yarn and had made a God's eye with feathers hanging down the side. It was hanging over a door way entering from the living room to the dining room. (we had high ceilings) He was especially pleased with that and asked if I would make him one. I said yes, but he had specifics. He wanted a buffalo in the center and he wanted it in four colors. The four colors of his Cherokee tribe. Both Coco and Carla were Cherokee from Oklahoma originally. Real Cherokees, not make-believe. And they had eleven natural biological children. The reason I say this is because as I met them over time, they were all so different. Some were light with blonde hair and some were dark with curly, afro looking hair. He had one son who had a blonde afro. But most had straight hair. Coco had hazel/green eyes and Carla had deep brown eyes, almost black. I do not remember their kids eyes, but I think they were brown. It was the grandkids who had blue eyes. Certainly, Coco and Carla had the United Nations in their family. In those days, I knew I was Métisse, meaning of mixed ancestry. However at that age I still did not know as much about it as I do now of course. It is not something people talked about easily. It intrigued me that his children were so diverse. Since they were my Elders, it was not appropriate for me to ask too many personal questions, so I tried to learn by listening.

One day, I came over to Coco's house for a visit but this time he was sitting way back in a large room that he had in his home that was like a solarium. He was sitting in a rocking chair holding a large feather. I came in the room and sat across from him in one of the sofas. One of his sons was there and Carla was standing in the doorway. Coco had a very serious somber countenance about him. He was holding the feather straight in front of him with both hands and holding it upwards. He sat there for a long time as if trying to decide something. So, I waited. Eventually, he got up and came toward me and asked me if I would accept this feather. I did so without any thought. I took it as a very precious gift since he seemed to attach so much importance to it. He then gave me a pipe with 3 other feathers just like it attached to it and said, "Here, this is for you." I thanked him of course. I was very grateful for the gift. It was a beautifully hand crafted pipe with many trimmings and bead work. We had our usual visit except that this visit was more serious than the other visits we had had when Coco was joking a lot. He then asked me to come out to the studio in the back yard where he did a lot of his sculpting. He took out a white mask and asked me if I recognized who it might be. I looked at it and I finally said, "You, it's you!" Carla said, "oh, she knows you well." He had made an imprint of his face with a mask-making technique. He said it was a death mask. He smiled and put it back in the studio.

After our visit was over, I went home with my pipe and feather and put my pipe in a place of honor. In fact, I had my son take a Polaroid picture of me with it and sent it to my Mother in Florida.

I do not know if it was weeks or months later but I think it was weeks when I got a call from Coco. He said that he and Carla wanted to come over and visit me. I said, "sure, come on." They came and I had made some stew. It was ready when they came so we all ate stew and french bread dipped in the juice. While we were talking after eating and sipping our coffee, Coco told me that he had some bad news to tell me. My heart made a jump in my chest as if I did not want to hear this. He said he had been to the doctor complaining of some pain in his side and he was diagnosed with liver cancer and was getting ready for radiation treatments. My heart sunk. It was in the 70's you know, and in those days, they were not as advanced as they are now and many people died with this kind of news. The big C was usually a death sentence. Well, you can imagine my chagrin. But Coco was brave and he had a good outlook. We had our usual visit, full of discussion on art, Indian philosophy and lore. When he left, he left a card on the table called drowning bear with a sun setting on it. He said in the poem that he felt like a drowning bear. That's when I knew that Coco might not make it. I cried and I prayed but sometimes, we have to let the Lord do his His way and hope that we might get a miracle. I gave Coco a little portrait card of Kateri Tekakwitha although at the time, I did not know she was my cousin. I had been devoted to her since childhood. I got his hoop ready and I took it to him in the hospital. He was sitting up in his bed and he said "Come on in, Sundance, Let me see that hoop! " "Ah," he said, "this will hang above my bed so I can see the buffalo!" Coco said that he had called a priest to get the last rites. He also called a Protestant minister and a Rabbi and a Hindu to come and make a blessing for him. He laughed and said, "I do not want to offend the Lord, so I am getting as many rites as I can, because one never knows you know!" I said, "yes, and when it's all done, we will travel in the dream world." Oh he liked that! "Yes," he said. "We will travel."

He then asked me to go in the drawer of his hospital night stand and told me to take out a white envelope there and look inside. I opened it and it had a picture, a very old picture of a woman that almost looked identical to me. I could hardly believe my eyes because the only way I knew it was not me was by the age of the picture. I even tried to remember taking such a picture it was so identical. Coco said, "That's my mother when she was young." I just sat there and gasped. I do not even remember what happened after that. I think I went into some kind of trance or shock. But I just sat there and stared at this picture. I realized this was why he and Carla had been so friendly to me, and had treated me so much like family. I was very touched by this but I did not know what to make of it. When things like his happen, you know that this is not a coincidence., You know that there is meaning and a reason for this but you are not sure what it is. It certainly cemented our bond. I continued to visit him in the hospital. He complained of being shot in four directions...and he was in a lot of pain. I prayed for him until one day very soon after my last visit in the hospital before he was sent home, I got a visit from one of my plains tribal brothers who had been a friend of mine since childhood. He stopped by my house unannounced.

The doorbell rang and there he was. He had been traveling and had just come from Alaska and he had a gift for me. As we were talking, he saw the feather and pipe that Coco had given me and he said, "Oh my God where did you get these?" I told him the story. He then said, "Do you realize that these are witching feathers?" It means someone wants you dead." I had four of these feathers! He then said, "It means that four will die!" I almost choked. There were four in my immediate family, my husband, myself and two children. I could not believe my ears; I could not believe that Coco would do this to me. My Sioux friend then took it upon himself to take the feathers and pipe out of the house and burned them in my yard while he chanted some prayers. He then turned to me and said, "Wait a minute, I have to go to my van." When he returned, he handed me four of the most beuatiful eagle feathers I have ever seen! He said "Now I know why I found these feathers for you. When I was climbing Mt. Juno, up there in Alaska, I found these and I immediately thought of you, I didn't know why at the time but that's why I brought them to you today."

He then said, "This should take away all the negative forces those owl feathers had." And I will tell you that there is no comparison in the beauty of the feathers. The owl feathers had looked rather dingy and dark compared to the contrast of the black and pure white of the eagle feathers. He then said, "Well, I do not really know what your friend had in mind, but I think that the owl feathers are sacred to the Cherkees and he may not have been trying to witch you. However, he should have told you or warned you that they can symbolize a negative thing to other tribes or used for negative purposes by some other tribes and how they are used sometimes for witching. They can have real negative outcomes in using them. You really have to be strong". I agreed.

I thought back at how serious Coco's countenance had been that day when he sat quietly for so long before giving them to me and when he was so carefully handling that owl feather. I never did find out what his motive was because I never mentioned it to him. I decided to let the chips fall where they may and not think negatively of my friend. I never did get to speak with him again as he passed away while my friend was visiting and before I had a chance to see him again. I did not go to the funeral but I did send Carla a basket of fruit. I choose to believe that coco had a very good reason for giving me those feathers. Perhaps, it's a test one has to go through before they get their eagle feathers. I do not know. I still have my eagle feathers.

When I married my present husband, (who has now passed away) we used them for the talking circle we had with our Sunflower dancers. So, they did provide a good service for the people. They are very strong feathers. Once my home was burglarized and the feathers were stolen. Out of all the stolen articles, the feathers were found and brought back to me. Another time, I was going to the United Nations to do a little talk for the Bahai people and I lost them on my way in the taxi. I asked the driver to take me back to the intersection where I had been picked up by the cab and would you know, the four feathers were lying in the street of a big New York City intersection completely unharmed. My children got out of the cab before I could do anything and picked them up for me and handed them to me. In my opinion, that was a miracle in itself. Mind boggling to say the least. Now...with all those cars. When my sons got out and picked them up, it seemed like all traffic stopped. It was unreal. So, that's how I know now how really powerful eagle feathers can be.

I still love my friend Coco and his wife Carla. I will not judge what he did. I just have to let it be. In fact, whatever the motive, only God and Coco know. However, when I found out about the feathers, I got scared and called my mother and asked her to burn the picture I had sent her. She did, but she also told me on the phone that day that her husband had just been diagnosed with prostrate cancer. If there is any connection there, I do not know, but my stepfather did die very soon after that. I always wondered if it was the feathers...and luckily, we did burn them before any one else was taken. But Coco died too, If he was trying to save his life by passing the death wish to someone else, we will never know unless someone who knows the lore very well and can tell me. Perhaps there is someone out there who knows the lore. We also have people who do not believe in this lore at all, and call it superstition. I choose to just leave it alone and think only the best of my friend though it is troubling. One day, I hope, I will know. If there is a lesson here, I do not know what it is except that we do not always know the truth of something. We learn our lessons in life and sometimes we have to wait a long time before we realize the meaning of those lessons. There is a saying that when the pupil is ready, the teacher will appear and that things are not always what they seem. Even though something very negative might have occured here, there is always another force to counteract the negative. The real lesson in life is balance. Perhaps this is why our ancestors always told us to walk in balance.
Zôbi widôbaid & Métañdossañtz8añgan,
Sundance Aquero Sharp AKA: Louise-Andrée Éthier. Yuma, Arizona.

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