Picture this: you sit in a dark, small tent on a pile of boughs and blankets with about 25 people around you. The aroma of cedar and sage surrounds you while men are bringing scarlet red hot rocks from a fire just out the door. “This is history, living history,” the elder says. You peer out the opening of the lodge to see the face of a bull’s skull watching, with food teasing you from all around.
Soon, you are about to sweat more than you’ve ever sweat before, and it feels so good.
“The door!” The chief yells. After piercing the skin on the top of both shoulders, he sits directly in front of the bull, facing it, and gets tied to the ceiling of small lodge. Why would anyone do such a thing, you ask? “For the youth,” he says. He informs us all that the youth of Chisasibi are in turmoil, that suicide is prevalent and he wants us all to help pray for his people.
I’m sure I was one among many nearly reaching tears while he described the realities of their current condition. I thought of the girls that showed me their scars, the ones that would never dare to show anyone, and the children that seem so happy whenever I see them. And somehow, as it seems to be characteristic of the Cree people, the chief ends what he has to say with a laugh. It’s going to be a good sweat, I thought.
First round: turtle. Pray for the toddlers.
As the door closes, they begin explaining the purpose of this sweat once again. Although I felt a little anxious, the chief’s voice somehow calmed our spirits, ending with a laugh, as always. Nathan, a young man on the other side of the grandfathers beats the drum and begins to sing. I’m looking up to the Spirits now. God, please bring good to these people.
In my mind, I could see a child at the daycare pushing their little toy cars, then going home only to block out a fight caused by the result of an alcohol addiction.
Second round: Youth.
While I was physically in the tent, I was mentally back at the youth centre. I took their wrists in my hands and healed their scars with one simple touch. I hugged them one by one and said “don’t do this to yourself sweetheart, you have so much to live for. You’re beautiful.” I knew this wasn’t reality, so I just kept praying: God, oh please, help these girls and boys, they haven’t done a thing to deserve this misery. Dear God, I pray that these people see the light, because it’s really there, I can really see it. Help them see it too and it’ll come.
Third Round: Adults
Mom was the first to come to mind. All I want is for her to be happy, for her knee and all her health problems to heal. And Elizabeth, Jack’s wife, I wish her the best of luck for the third child she is expecting. “Man doesn’t control all, God does,” the elder reminds us. “That’s why he sometimes gives a woman a stillborn- to remind them that he is there.
After the round, they pass around the fish with bear fat, blueberries, blackberries and strawberries. Best berries I’ve ever tasted. We took a longer break to prepare for a much hotter fourth round.
Fourth Round: Elders
As the heat intensifies, I sing louder, I concentrate higher, but I don’t move.
Grandma, I miss you. But I don’t remember you. And grandpa, I need to reach out to my grandpa because there’s so much more to know. The first person that came to mind as I thought of the elders in Chisasibi was Annie, who I met at the Elder’s camp. “Would you like to try?” She asked me when I visited. How sweet of her to make me feel so welcome at the elder’s camp. Please God, bring sweet Annie and all her grandchildren happiness.
Happiness is, after all what matters most.
55 large grandfathers later, I might not expect to feel so cleansed and pure but I did. More than anything, I was honoured. Before I left, I was sure to shake the chief’s hand to thank him. “Thank you,” he said. God, I love these people, I’ve never met so many people in one place that I adored so much. The chief is thanking me after enduring that same ceremony I found hard with blood dripping down his chest and he’s thanking me?
The people of Chisasibi could not be more real either. They don’t care if you’re fat or skinny, ugly or pretty, they see your spirit. They see you for who you really are, and they appreciate every effort you make, whether they acknowledge it or not.
What an honour and an inspiration to be a part of such a community filled with beautiful spirits. They’re even nice to you when they hate you! ***Hnahhhh (insert characteristic Cree laugh here)
I can't do it like they do, but if you met a Cree person you'd know exactly what I'm talking about.
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