pow wow.

A couple weekends ago was another cultural experience for me, as I attended a First Nations Pow Wow on Mount McKay in Thunder Bay. I was spending the weekend with Josh, a friend and young adult from Aroland. He had previously educated me on First Nations culture and traditions, and I was eager to spend a weekend with him in the midst of hundreds of other First Nations people from the greater Thunder Bay area (by that I mean within 10 hours of driving or flying).

We drove into the city in the late afternoon on Friday, and began our weekend with some Chinese Food. It's a real treat to be back in civilization, and I never realized how much I really do miss suburbia. Though Thunder Bay is an old relic town, far removed from the more modern cities such as Toronto or Vancouver, it boasts a population that is 200 times the size of Nakina, where I live. Thunder Bay has the basic necessities of life: a mall, a Future Shop, Starbucks, Tim Horton's, four-lane highways, and stop lights. I've noticed that my driving has digressed as I have become accustomed to small town driving: yield signs, potholes, and no need for signalling turns. With the Chinese sitting weightily on our stomachs, we made our way through the First Nations Reserve at the base of Mount McKay, and winded our way up the road to its plateau.

The Pow Wow didn't officially begin until Saturday afternoon, but already there were people pitching their tents and setting up their snack and souvenir shops around the pow wow grounds. I imagined that, traditionally, there were no vendors selling hot dogs and bannock burgers around the site where the drumming and dancing was to occur. But today's pow wows aren't just for the native culture. They also are a display of how life was before the White People came, and are open to those same people who like to eat hot dogs and bannock burgers. We stayed on the pow wow grounds for a few hours while Josh caught up with some friends from other reserves, and I hung out with some of the kids from Aroland who had arrived on a bus that night. My experience of the pow wow was slightly diminished due to the fact that Josh and I had chosen to not join the tent-dwellers for the evening. We left to find a place to stay.

We arrived late at Keith's place. Keith is a cousin of Josh's, and a former resident of Aroland. He is also an amazing artist. We spent the first half hour in his room, flipping through his drawing book, mesmerized by the life-like characters he created on its pages. Our tiredness quickly overtook our interest, and we were soon sleeping uncomfortably on the two couches in Keith's living room.

The pow wow began in the early afternoon on Saturday with a Grand Entry of all those who had come, dressed in their native regalia. Pow wow's are a step back in time. Each participant made their way around the centre gazebo, where a handful of drummers beat a single drum simultaneously and monotonously. While they drummed, they sang. There never seemed to be any words, only vocal peaks and lows in a well-rehearsed pattern. Meanwhile, the dancers walked, skipped and glided to their beat in a one-two step pattern. This went on for hours. Only once during the day did the drumming and dancing stop.

I had noticed that everything had stopped, and that a few of the older men were all standing in a small circle to one side. Asking the man beside me what was happening, he explained that they were having a ceremony. A feather had fallen. A few of the regalia worn by the men had wreaths of feathers on the back, and one had fallen from its place. A fallen feather represents a fallen relative, and the men were standing over the feather, saying a prayer for the relative. It was a five-minute long ceremony, after which they picked the feather up and gave it to someone else in the group, as it could not be returned to its original owner. Soon the drumming began, and the dancers slowly made their way back out onto the pow wow grounds. The Pow Wow was back into full swing, and it continued that way until late in the evening, as different drumming groups had an opportunity to showcase their talent. The next day was no different. The Pow Wow began with a Grand Entry and ended late in the evening on Canada Day.

While the festivities came to a close, I returned to my car to wait for Josh as he said farewell to his friends and family. As I passed the ridge of Mount McKay, it became clear to me that there was more to see. This night was not yet over, for in the city below, the population was celebrating the birth of a country. I joined and was joined by a number of others who were eager to see the constant display of light and sound from Thunder Bay. We stood there for another half hour, watching as hundreds of fireworks were set off in backyards, followed several seconds later by the sound of each explosion. Canada Day was spent between two worlds. One celebrating a history not-yet forgotten, and another celebrating the beginnings of a country that was then determined to see the end of a beautiful culture.