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[openscarf]

Today I went to the spiritual encampment at Glen Cove in Vallejo that was started to keep the Native American sacred burial ground from being turned into a city park. The fire has been burning for 47 days. It looks very homespun and humble. It consists of one large teepee, an alter and fire that two men were tending today, a concession area, some signs and one and two-man tents for the people camping there. Little kids ran around playing, women were seated at various spots and about eight men were under a shade shelter next to the teepee sitting around a big drum. I learned the parked RV is used as an office.




It's at the end of a cul-de-sac, wooded and on the water.

A new friend, a Native American woman, she's a writer, artist and owns a shop, told me about it and suggested I go. I was really looking forward to it. I wanted to be very respectful and enter as a guest.

Two older men greeted me, Short Bull and Wounded Knee. They offered to take me on a tour, which led me to believe that certain areas were off limits and to help me not disrespect any part of this action.

I asked the men if I could take pictures and they said yes, except for the alter and the fire. I asked if I could take pictures of the kids and they said yes, but first they wanted a picture of themselves in front of the sign. Then I asked two little girls if I could take their picture and they got very excited and asked me to wait, while they were crushing little flower petals in their hands and scrunching their cheeks and lips and rubbing the fragments on them. They were chattering and I was talking with them, we were laughing, I couldn't wait to get my shots.

A young Native man in about his early 20's, came right up to me and said with aggression, "Why are you filming our children?"

I was mortified, this was exactly what I wanted to avoid. I said, "I'm sorry, I haven't taken any yet, I asked," and motioned to the two men behind me, "and they said it was all right."

The young man, more aggressively said, WHO said yes? The man behind said, "Wounded." The young man said to me, "Did you ask their mothers? Did you ask them?"

I said, "Ok, I won't take any pictures, I had asked permission, I thought it was ok,  I understand." The guy was exuding negative energy. Short Bull led me away and kept saying things to the effect that that guy was an asshole.

He slowly walked me around and spoke about the some of the history of the place. I was a little shaky, the guy had freaked me out. Short Bull said, " don't worry, the guy didn't have his doughnut today."  I asked if any of the kids were his and he said, no, he's nobody, don't worry. So I just shook it off. I was definitely in a new situation.

And through-out the rest of my time there, that young man stayed in the background of everything.

Short Bull and Wounded Knee at the entrance to the camp






This area is one of hundreds in California and many in the Bay Area that was a burial ground. It's a sacred space. Many tribes lived in the area. The city of Vallejo wants to make it a city park, part of a huge bike trail around the bay. However Native American land is dealt with on the federal level. Apparently many attorneys are involved and the group is prepared to stand when bulldozers or police come to throw them out. They've been there 47 days.

The wood that's burning smells good. Younger men split big chunks of it to keep the fire going. Young boys try to split the stumps. There are abalone shells with tobacco in them around the fire.  With Short Bull's encouragement, I knelt, closed my eyes and prayed to the God of all and sprinkled tobacco into the fire. The older men tending the fire smiled and nodded at me.

There was no one there, like me, that looked like me in anyway.

There's a dilapidated old mansion along the path. Short Bull pointed out the old path that led from the house to the water, two big palm trees marked the entrance. He said at one point it was an orphanage and Marilyn Monroe stayed a year there as a child. He said actions like this were hard because there were so many different tribes represented, so many personalities.

I knew one of the woman there from an article I wrote last year about the only Native American school in Oakland losing all its funding. Today I learned she camped for 18 months on Alcatraz during that amazing action.  She told me to come back next Sunday, they're doing a Salmon Dance ritual and told me to wear a long skirt.

When the drumming and singing started I stood to watch and listen. I knew there would be no more pictures. My camera just hung from my wrist. The prayer/songs were beautifully powerful. Another older man came up, a white guy, who comes and stays for 3 or 4 days at a time, then goes home to San Jose to go back to work, in the tech industry he said.  He was very intense and had a lot of information and continued telling me how it took time to fit in and how the Native people have been trivialized and turned into mascots and emblems and generalized by the media and it all  takes a while. While I knew that, I realized I had never hung out with Native Americans.

I didn't want to hear how each person that goes online is in a little box and everything we do is tracked and how each person that types the same word into a browser gets different results based on their previous browsing. I said I still wasn't giving up on the internet and that I still believed in it and the brilliant pirates out there.  He was definitely harshing my mellow, not the time or place.

Then the elders spoke. We stood in a big circle. The first man was slight, he may have been a chief, I'm not sure, he had long thin white hair and talked about the history of the actions and how the elders are dying and thanked the young men who had been drumming and singing over and over again for heading out to a  Sun Dance. I couldn't wait to look this up. Apparently it was almost a lost ritual but is now being performed again by young and middle aged men. I believe the singers were from LA and come up for the weekend. He spoke about some of the things happening at the national level.

He then introduced a man whom he said was a powerful healer and medicine men. He was over six feet , powerfully built and radiated energy, he had long gray hair. He spoke then prayed in his native tongue and sang. Then with all of us still in a circle, the drummers and singers sang 4 more songs/prayers using just a type of split bamboo pole for the rhythm, either shaking it but mostly  drumming it into the palm of their other hand.

No pictures of these powerful elders, beautiful children or musicians but here is the camp dog. He was adorable, the children sat on him like a horse and threw little toys at him and he patiently accepted all their playfulness.




All the prayers are to honor the dead who are buried there and to keep this small piece of land sacred. Everything is a symbol. It's all to keep this land. I donated ten bucks, I wish it could have been more, but I know it's appreciated.

The area is surrounded by homes. When they were being built, the workers found human bones but the developers said to ignore them and kept tossing them aside.  There's another town in the Bay Area called Emeryville that's built on a sacred shell mound.








When I had been talking with Short Bull, a young boy, he called Tom Sawyer, was walking near where we were, He was so cute, he had light brown hair and freckles, wore a big straw and was carrying two bundles of feathers. Short Bull asked him for one and then wanted me to have one. So I had been holding that with the literature I was given and camera as I stood with these people.

At the end of the speaking and singing, the singers walked around the circle and hugged each person. I think I was the only new person there this afternoon, it was a small group, about 30 or 40 maybe. I like how they all looked me in the eye, took my hand, I shook their hands and thanked each one; one hugged me, which touched me.

Afterwards a young African American man I'd been curious about spoke to me. He said he came everyday and lived in one of the houses nearby. He said he used to come outside and smoke weed and the cops always came and told him to stop. One day he walked over to this area and listened, attended a pow-wow and it changed his life he said. I think he said he didn't smoke weed anymore, but I'm not sure I heard him correctly.  Something changed in his life though. He said now he helps everyday there. He was wearing two beautiful necklaces and said he had just started beading when I commented on them. He saw the prayer beads I was wearing on my wrist and commented on them.

Another young guy came up and asked about the feather. I told him the story. He said it was a feather from the left wing of a buzzard. He said to be careful, different tribes had different magic. I asked him what it meant and he said he didn't know, B., the black man said to ask the older slight man. I said, oh that's ok, but he said it was all right. So he led me over to where he was sitting. I felt sort of ridiculous like I was wasting his time .  I knelt down and introduced myself and asked him about the feather. He looked at me with very little expression and took the feather, turned it over and around and held it for a moment then gave it back to me and said it was ok to keep. I thanked him.

I left shortly after that.  There were 2 cops parked down the street. If you turn the wrong way off the freeway you come to a traditional cemetery. Imagine building on top of that?

When I got home, I put the feather in one of my plant pots on my fire escape.

Comments

[yummydeb.livejournal.com]

What a touching, thought-provoking and moving experience! Other than the negative jerk and the IT guy, I'm glad everyone was kind and treated you with sincerity, as you were treating them. I hope they save that sacred place.

[openscarf.livejournal.com]

A day later I still feel the sacredness, I feel as if I traveled far away in time and place.

[wlotus.livejournal.com]

Imagine building on top of a traditional cemetery, indeed! The arrogance and double standard of society kills me.

[openscarf.livejournal.com]

Their absolute certainty and determination is a palpable force, it's very special there, they're not leaving.

[misterwint.livejournal.com]

wow I hope they get to keep their land. Progress has no respect for tradition.

[openscarf.livejournal.com]

Yeah, this country never respected the indigenous people. It's easy to forget, I'm glad I have this opportunity to learn.

[dadadadio.livejournal.com]

I suppose I shouldn't be, but I was surprised to hear the builders tossed bones aside. The lack of respect is unfortunate.

I hope the town comes to their senses. There's no reason to desecrate a burial ground, certainly not for a park and bike path.

[openscarf.livejournal.com]

I don't know if you read any of the links, but it's one of the last one out of hundreds that hasn't been covered with concrete.

To clarify, by "builders" it was the constructions company bosses who said to ignore the and toss the bones when the actual workers found them. I'm sure more than one construction worker quit after after that.