FaerieInCombatBoots
Well-Known Member
Recently, I mentioned that I'd be writing about overcoming one of my fears. Well, I didn't do that. I totally chickened out. To make up for going back on my word, I want to tell you guys about the amazing weekend I had.
As it mentions on my profile, I am a Native American drummer. I sing and drum and powwows, Native Gatherings and once at the JFK Library in Boston. I don't make any money from it, the pay-off is entirely spiritual. So I had a powwow this weekend, in Mason NH, right across from Parker's Sugar Barn.
Powwows are important to Native Americans because they are our way of honoring and celebrating who we are, where we came from and where we're going. We do our traditional dances, we sing our songs and we have a damn good time. In the old days, as they are now, it was a way to meet up with old friends, make new ones, and learn from other. A powwow is also highly sacred. Like Catholics going to church, or Jews to synagogues, going to a powwow is a spiritual experience for those of us who follow the old ways. In the center of the circle where we dance, we keep a very special fire, that must stay burning throughout the powwow.
This weekend, I was accorded the special honor of helping light this sacred fire. This was my first time doing such a thing. My duty was to be the 'balance'. Since the person lighting the fire was a man, the person holding the log laden with sacred plants (tobacco, sage and cedar, to name a few) has to be a woman. A non-menstruating woman, because it is an old tradition that women on their periods stay out of special ceremonies, solely because it is believed that women are too powerful during this time of the month.
The ceremony is too intricate to describe. I wish I could tell you, but the words won't do it justice. All I can tell you is that log was damn heavy, and that I had to walk around the sacred circle four times holding the thing. But despite the pain in my arms, I was incredibly honored to be trusted with such an important part of the powwow. The tobacco we used was 600 years old, I was holding history in my hands. That's a powerful feeling.
It was a good powwow. My parents came, and I hadn't seen them look so proud. I drummed, danced and engaged in the Frying Pan Toss. "Oh Faerie," I hear you ask. "What's a frying pan toss?"
A frying pan toss comes from an old Abenaki tradition. In the old days, our women used to cook on flat stones. Whenever the men bothered or troubled us, we threw our cooking stones at the men. Our young women just learning, were taught this art by the older women. When the white traders brought us cast-iron pans, we switched from stones, to those beauties, while still maintaining the custom of throwing heavy cookware at errant menfolk. Today, we honor this old practice by holding contests, where we can which woman can throw her pan the farthest. I'll tell you right now, I did badly. So Vorsprung, don't worry about me damaging your noggin when I get in a mood. I'll miss.
Yes, it was a good powwow. I made new friends, learned old ways, made my parents proud. And yeah, there were bad moments, like when my tent got flooded by a thunderstorm, or when I had to pee in the bushes at 3 in the morning because the latrines were too far from my camp. I even managed to throw in a panic attack for good measure. But it was all worth it, because it was the best damn powwow I've had in awhile.
And the pancakes I had this morning were epic.
As it mentions on my profile, I am a Native American drummer. I sing and drum and powwows, Native Gatherings and once at the JFK Library in Boston. I don't make any money from it, the pay-off is entirely spiritual. So I had a powwow this weekend, in Mason NH, right across from Parker's Sugar Barn.
Powwows are important to Native Americans because they are our way of honoring and celebrating who we are, where we came from and where we're going. We do our traditional dances, we sing our songs and we have a damn good time. In the old days, as they are now, it was a way to meet up with old friends, make new ones, and learn from other. A powwow is also highly sacred. Like Catholics going to church, or Jews to synagogues, going to a powwow is a spiritual experience for those of us who follow the old ways. In the center of the circle where we dance, we keep a very special fire, that must stay burning throughout the powwow.
This weekend, I was accorded the special honor of helping light this sacred fire. This was my first time doing such a thing. My duty was to be the 'balance'. Since the person lighting the fire was a man, the person holding the log laden with sacred plants (tobacco, sage and cedar, to name a few) has to be a woman. A non-menstruating woman, because it is an old tradition that women on their periods stay out of special ceremonies, solely because it is believed that women are too powerful during this time of the month.
The ceremony is too intricate to describe. I wish I could tell you, but the words won't do it justice. All I can tell you is that log was damn heavy, and that I had to walk around the sacred circle four times holding the thing. But despite the pain in my arms, I was incredibly honored to be trusted with such an important part of the powwow. The tobacco we used was 600 years old, I was holding history in my hands. That's a powerful feeling.
It was a good powwow. My parents came, and I hadn't seen them look so proud. I drummed, danced and engaged in the Frying Pan Toss. "Oh Faerie," I hear you ask. "What's a frying pan toss?"
A frying pan toss comes from an old Abenaki tradition. In the old days, our women used to cook on flat stones. Whenever the men bothered or troubled us, we threw our cooking stones at the men. Our young women just learning, were taught this art by the older women. When the white traders brought us cast-iron pans, we switched from stones, to those beauties, while still maintaining the custom of throwing heavy cookware at errant menfolk. Today, we honor this old practice by holding contests, where we can which woman can throw her pan the farthest. I'll tell you right now, I did badly. So Vorsprung, don't worry about me damaging your noggin when I get in a mood. I'll miss.
Yes, it was a good powwow. I made new friends, learned old ways, made my parents proud. And yeah, there were bad moments, like when my tent got flooded by a thunderstorm, or when I had to pee in the bushes at 3 in the morning because the latrines were too far from my camp. I even managed to throw in a panic attack for good measure. But it was all worth it, because it was the best damn powwow I've had in awhile.
And the pancakes I had this morning were epic.